Page 42 of Power Games

Members of the press had been invited, of course. The picturesque scene would make front page in a dozen magazines, and remind everyone that the McNamaras were the wholesome, traditional, noble choice.

A few steps away from the very proper gathering, Vanessa was chasing a merry band of children who screamed and laughed.

"Gotcha!" she yelled victoriously, grabbing a little girl with a flower crown in her hair.

The other kids wouldn't have it. They jumped on her, pulling at her clothes and yelling, "Let go of Annabeth, bad wolf!"

Vanessa fell on her backside, groaning and laughing when the four kids jumped her.

"I give up! I give in! Mercy! You've won. I promise I won't eat any more children for breakfast."

Something kept him in place. A yearning, a longing he didn't quite understand. Something he'd buried, rushing to the surface unexpectedly.

Before he had time to identify it, she turned her head and saw him standing like an idiot.

“Charles!”

She looked up at him,her eyes twinkling, and her smile making him forget everything that was wrong in his world, he didn’t even care that she was—as Aiden had already pointed out—her brother's best weapon. The press didn't pay much attention to the other McNamaras; their lenses were focused on her.

"Guys, I think it's time for cake! Go tell my mom I said you could have some."

The kids didn't need to be told twice. They finally let her go, and she got to her feet, attempting to straighten her skirt.

Charles approached her, and reached out to remove a leaf from her hair. Her hands fell to her sides and she looked up at him. He pulled the leaf out to show it to her.

She chuckled. "Oh well. Entertaining these little monsters is never without consequences."

"And yet, you do it regardless."

Vanessa simply shrugged. "They're fun." Now she lowered her voice. "Certainly more fun than the rest of that crowd."

Charles smiled. "No Cici this morning?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, she'll show her face eventually, but she texted me to let me know she was having a pedicure done when I arrived here. If she'd told me before, I certainly wouldn't have shown up on time either."

They'd started aimlessly walking along the path.

"It's rather strange, isn't it? How much you resemble her, in and out, instead of being like them?" He vaguely gestured in the direction of the rest of her family.

Vanessa laughed. "Hardly. I mean, I can't speak as to the physical side of things, but as for the rest, my brother was already out of the house when I was born. My parents were very busy socially. Cici spent a lot of time here. Her husband died when I was three, and she doesn't like to stay in his place too much. My uncle manages it now. She stayed with us until Dad won the election. Then, she returned to her family home in North Carolina, and I visited a lot. She only left for Rome after I went off to college."

"She raised you," he summarized.

She shook her head. "Oh, no. I'm a hundred percent Theodore's daughter, trust me. My father raised me. My grandmother just showed me that I could be a McNamara and my own person at the same time."

He didn't believe her then. Not really. He'd never seen anything of Theodore in her actions.

“Speaking of Dad, he will be happy you stopped by. I mentioned you might, and fair warning: he’s determined to have a picture of you and Tristan playing nice. Shall we go tell him you're here?"

Turning on her heel, she headed towards the tent erected near the lake. He watched her leave; how could he not? Vanessa was splendid from most angles, but from the back, she was downright spectacular. That ass. Too large for her frame, indecent, regardless of what she wore.

Charles went to follow, when two cars stopped right in front of them, on Independence Avenue. A large middle-aged man came out of the car.

“Mr. Grant?”

Pulled from his thoughts, Charles lifted his eyes, and waggled a brow, surprised to see a MPD detective standing before him.

“Detective. How may I help?”

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