Someone To Believe In Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Kathryn Shay
next year. If the Democratic primary goes as I’m
hoping.”
“Did you side with Lawson simply to defeat me
in the next election, Ms. O’Neil?”
“No.”
“His emphasis isn’t on women. Isn’t on
homeless teens and soup kitchens.”
“Neither is yours these days. You’re more
concerned with giving the police and FBI money, not with financing
community agencies. You used to be someone the people could
believe in.”
“I supported Clinton’s bill, Feinstein’s,
bill, and Stewart’s new one to stop youth gangs. Hell, I helped
Chuck draft that last one.”
Her eyes glittered with resolve, turning a
darker blue. Her complexion heightened in color. “The major support
in those bills is for legal institutions. You used to fight more
for social services and community programs.”
“I still do, but contrary to you, I see the
necessity for cops to have power.”
She ran a restless hand through her hair.
“Look, Stewart’s bill does that by giving four hundred million
dollars to legal institutions whereas social agencies get only one
hundred mil. Isn’t that enough for you for the cops?”
“I’m worried what the social agencies will do
with their portion, which, by the way, I believe is too much.”
“Which is
exactly why I don’t think you
belong in office.” She gave him a withering look. “I think you’ve
copped out on the very reasons people elected you
senator.”
He slapped the table with his hand, making
the dishes dance. “I haven’t copped out! I went to Washington to
make a difference at the national level.”
“You haven’t, though.”
“Of course I have.”
“Like hell,” she said, her face flushing even
more. “You tied up ESCAPE’s funding, voted down clinic insurance to
service these kids, and have so far blocked the special shelter for
them I’ve been working like a dog to get in place. You don’t care
about us.”
“I’ve gotten homeless shelters
for all teens funded.
Initiated a bill for more money to be spent on single mothers and
children for health care. Not to mention my work on behalf of soup
kitchens for the hungry. I just happen to think your way of helping
kids is counterproductive to what the police are doing. And
dangerous to you. Hell, you can’t even let anybody know where
ESCAPE is located, let alone the Street Angel’s real name, for fear
of being hurt.”
“We’ve functioned safely this way for five
years.”
“Yeah, well it’s only a matter of time before
some disgruntled gang member who loses his woman seeks you
out.”
Suddenly she threw back her chair, stood, and
fisted her hands on her hips. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to
meet with you.” She leaned over and braced her arms on the table.
“Stay away from me and my family. We’ll argue this out in the
newspaper.” With theatrical flourish, she stormed away.
After he dropped some money on the table, he
followed her to the front of the restaurant and out the door. She
got halfway down the street, then she turned and stomped her way
back. He stood leaning against the outside brick wall, hands in his
pockets, waiting for her. She marched up to him, her eyes blazing
with blue fire, her cheeks rosy with pique. She reached to take off
the jacket just as he put his hands on her shoulders.
They said simultaneously...
“Here’s your jacket.”
“Let me help.”
A rapid pop-pop sounded loudly and a flash exploded in
Clay’s eyes. He grabbed Bailey to him, pivoted, and pushed her
against the wall, blocking whatever it was from hurting
her.
It took him a minute, as he held her close in
a lover-like embrace, to realize he was shielding her from a
camera.
Whose flash continued to go off.
“Hey, Senator, who’s the new squeeze?”
Clay swore under his breath. He angled his
shoulders so Bailey was completely blocked from view.
She gripped his shirt as if she was scared.
“What’s happening?”
Moving in even closer, his breath fanned her
ear. “Nothing dangerous. I
hoping.”
“Did you side with Lawson simply to defeat me
in the next election, Ms. O’Neil?”
“No.”
“His emphasis isn’t on women. Isn’t on
homeless teens and soup kitchens.”
“Neither is yours these days. You’re more
concerned with giving the police and FBI money, not with financing
community agencies. You used to be someone the people could
believe in.”
“I supported Clinton’s bill, Feinstein’s,
bill, and Stewart’s new one to stop youth gangs. Hell, I helped
Chuck draft that last one.”
Her eyes glittered with resolve, turning a
darker blue. Her complexion heightened in color. “The major support
in those bills is for legal institutions. You used to fight more
for social services and community programs.”
“I still do, but contrary to you, I see the
necessity for cops to have power.”
She ran a restless hand through her hair.
“Look, Stewart’s bill does that by giving four hundred million
dollars to legal institutions whereas social agencies get only one
hundred mil. Isn’t that enough for you for the cops?”
“I’m worried what the social agencies will do
with their portion, which, by the way, I believe is too much.”
“Which is
exactly why I don’t think you
belong in office.” She gave him a withering look. “I think you’ve
copped out on the very reasons people elected you
senator.”
He slapped the table with his hand, making
the dishes dance. “I haven’t copped out! I went to Washington to
make a difference at the national level.”
“You haven’t, though.”
“Of course I have.”
“Like hell,” she said, her face flushing even
more. “You tied up ESCAPE’s funding, voted down clinic insurance to
service these kids, and have so far blocked the special shelter for
them I’ve been working like a dog to get in place. You don’t care
about us.”
“I’ve gotten homeless shelters
for all teens funded.
Initiated a bill for more money to be spent on single mothers and
children for health care. Not to mention my work on behalf of soup
kitchens for the hungry. I just happen to think your way of helping
kids is counterproductive to what the police are doing. And
dangerous to you. Hell, you can’t even let anybody know where
ESCAPE is located, let alone the Street Angel’s real name, for fear
of being hurt.”
“We’ve functioned safely this way for five
years.”
“Yeah, well it’s only a matter of time before
some disgruntled gang member who loses his woman seeks you
out.”
Suddenly she threw back her chair, stood, and
fisted her hands on her hips. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to
meet with you.” She leaned over and braced her arms on the table.
“Stay away from me and my family. We’ll argue this out in the
newspaper.” With theatrical flourish, she stormed away.
After he dropped some money on the table, he
followed her to the front of the restaurant and out the door. She
got halfway down the street, then she turned and stomped her way
back. He stood leaning against the outside brick wall, hands in his
pockets, waiting for her. She marched up to him, her eyes blazing
with blue fire, her cheeks rosy with pique. She reached to take off
the jacket just as he put his hands on her shoulders.
They said simultaneously...
“Here’s your jacket.”
“Let me help.”
A rapid pop-pop sounded loudly and a flash exploded in
Clay’s eyes. He grabbed Bailey to him, pivoted, and pushed her
against the wall, blocking whatever it was from hurting
her.
It took him a minute, as he held her close in
a lover-like embrace, to realize he was shielding her from a
camera.
Whose flash continued to go off.
“Hey, Senator, who’s the new squeeze?”
Clay swore under his breath. He angled his
shoulders so Bailey was completely blocked from view.
She gripped his shirt as if she was scared.
“What’s happening?”
Moving in even closer, his breath fanned her
ear. “Nothing dangerous. I