In Love and Diplomacy

Chapter Three: Room Where It Happens

I nodded, agreeing with her statement. I hated being taller than other people. I wasn't even that tall, just a little taller than average, but it often made me feel awkward and large. I definitely wasn't used to wearing heels, let alone staying in them all night. I could already feel the ache in my arch and heel.

"Is this an open bar?"

My answer was slow, wary. "Yes."

"Perfect."

Crap.

"Just remember you're representing me."

I loved her, and I wasn't judging her, but Kennedy could get snippy when she was tipsy. I didn't need her insulting anyone — not tonight. I could confidently say I was just as wild when drinking, and couldn't throw stones, but tonight was not the night.

We could party until our cheeks were as red as our lips some other day. But not tonight.

"Don't look so worried, I'm not planning on anything crazy. I'm just hoping you'll let loose a little tonight. I know, I know, you're making 'connections' and all that. But you should relax. You deserve it. You got the job, your boss loves you, and it's one of your last nights in California."

Her grey eyes looked at me beseechingly, pinning me with a hard stare. I shrugged noncommittally. She knew me far too well for me to dodge her pinpoint accuracy or bluff my way through.

"I'm not getting crazy tonight. Not that I even could. It's a political party, it's not going to be that exciting."

"I've seen the movies, you know."

"Wrong movies. Trust me, the only exciting thing you'll find in the bathroom is mini French soaps."

But as we turned into the driveway, I realized I'd lied. I'd greatly underestimated the guest list for the night. Valets rushed around the front of the building, pulling expensive cars around as immaculately dressed couples headed into the foyer. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the scene before us.

A part of me wondered why I was so surprised. This was the upper levels of the political elite, along with everyone else who tangled among the highest branches. Of course it was lavish. Maybe not quite as wild as Kennedy had assumed, but expensive, nonetheless.

"I can't believe this party is so fancy. Are all retirement parties like this?" Kennedy whispered, peering up at Cruz's modern columned home.

No, they're definitely not.

While attorney general's didn't make an exorbitant amount of money, Cruz came from a powerful family, and so did his wife. His family was political through and through; the Cruz family had held offices across generations. Old money had created paved paths as well built as ancient Roman roads.

"Amanda Cruz doesn't do small." I gave a half smile as the car slowed to a stop. A young valet hurried to open my car door as another older valet opened Kennedy's.

"Ma'am."

The valet dipped his head as I slid out and handed him the key. I slipped the ticket into my clutch and joined Kennedy on the steps; her eyes were still taking in the spacious home. Perfectly manicured lawns surrounded the beautiful mansion, and in the distance, a slight glimmer of dark blue was barely visible in the draining light. The ocean wasn't far.

It wasn't my first time at the Cruz home, but it was certainly my first time with waiters sweeping through the open foyer. They carried trays supporting flutes of champagne and canapes as powerful politicians lounged and chatted quietly.

The decisions that could be made in this room.

Retirement parties were definitely not usually like this, but Amanda was using this as an opportunity to gracefully bow out of the California social scene beside her husband. With Cruz looking to split his time between New York and Los Angeles due to business, Amanda had excitedly informed me she was planning on living full time in her home city of New York. Hence, this was not only Cruz's goodbye party but Amanda's, too.