Chapter Fourteen: Hurt

Georgie

HURT

Performed by Lady A

As August wafted by me, I did a good job of avoiding Mac. After our heated―or cooled―milkshake moment, I doubled my efforts to keep away. It was self-preservation as much as selfless denial because, in truth, I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted a repeat performance of every moment we'd spent tangled together on his boat, because Mac had been right. Our kiss had been perfect.

The problem was, we weren't perfect. And I didn't want either of us to be hurt by that when reality showed up, knocking on our door like Descartes said it would. I could spend days being bitter about it, or just resolve myself to move past it.

I continued to fill my days at the law library. I loved it there, surrounded by facts and justice all rolled into one. Research had always been my forte back when I'd been in school getting my bachelor's degree, and I was relieved at how easily it came back to me.

I'd moved on from my search and seizure pursuits to cases related to the rights of immigrant children and their parents, especially detained illegals. In some ways, it was close to home even though my mom had never been illegal, and I'd never been an immigrant.

I was neck-deep in highlights and typing once more when another person stopped by my table. I was relieved to find it wasn't Professor Collins. I'd avoided him whenever I'd seen him appear in the library but watched from afar as he flirted suavely with the female student behind the help desk, and she blushed and stuttered over his attention. It had turned my stomach.

The person who stopped that day was an older woman in a suit that fit her as beautifully as Collins' and the Whittaker siblings' suits fit them. I was clearly going to need my own suits before long to blend in with the new crowd. My sundresses, leather pants, and ripped jeans screamed New York instead of D.C.

"You're a bit of a puzzle," the woman said. Her voice was full of a southern twang that instantly captivated me as much as her dark-red hair and warm, brown eyes.

"I'm sorry?" I questioned.

"Summer classes are over."

I shook my head. "I wasn't in them. I don't start till the fall term."

"What are you working on, then?"

Collins had seen my overeagerness and taken advantage of it, but this woman seemed genuinely interested. I was determined not to be ashamed. I loved the law. Just like I loved America.

"It's…just things that interest me. "

"Research interests you?"

My lips twitched at that. "If you're going to be a lawyer, research better fascinate you, isn't that true?"

She took me in, and again, it didn't feel predatory like Collins had. "You would be one of the first students to think so in a long time. Everyone wants the fancy opening and closing arguments to be the entirety of their time spent on a case."

I fidgeted slightly.

"Immigration law?" she asked, taking in my notes I had out on the table.

"Yes."

"Are you an immigrant?"

"No. My mother is Russian, though."

"She's an immigrant?"

"No. She still lives in Russia."

She considered me for a moment then snapped my book shut, waved a hand to all my belongings, and said, "Come with me."

"Excuse me?"

She laughed. "Sorry. Let me introduce myself. I'm Theresa Sedgewick. I'm a professor here and an attorney in the middle of a case that needs lots of research. Seeing as you don't have classes for another week, you might as well make yourself useful."

I sat for a moment, assessing her to see if she was being serious, the sting of Professor Collins's amorous ways still sitting in my heart.

"You don't know me at all," I protested.

"You're dedicated and engaged. That makes you perfect. It's practically all I need to know. But on our way back to my office, you can tell me the important bullet points you feel you need to tell me about your life."

She started to walk away, and I didn't let myself dwell on Collins any longer. I scrambled to shove all my work back into my bag and picked up the books I had out. "I just need to return these," I called after her.

She sighed, came back to me, took the books from my hand, and then walked to the front desk with me following her. She stopped and handed the books to the female behind the counter—the one that Collins came in to flirt with. She was younger than me by several years. "Aileen, be a dear and return these for us."

Then, she kept going toward the doors of the library, and I followed, feeling only slightly bad that Aileen was going to have to return my books for me.

Outside, I had to scamper to keep up with her. She wasn't quite as tall as me, but she was still tall for a female—and in a hurry. I had the feeling she was in a hurry all the time.

"Give me the bullet points," she said as we walked.

"Bullet points?"

"Parents. Bachelor's. Why you're here."

"Dad is Ian Astrella. Mom is Manya Leskov. They're divorced. My mother remarried a Russian businessman named Petya Leskov. I was raised by my grandmother and worked at her hair salon in New York City to put myself through Columbia's pre-law program. I originally was accepted into Harvard Law but had to return to New York to bury my grandmother and ended up taking over her business until the lease expired this year. I'm using the proceeds to help me pay for law school. I'm not sure that's bullet enough, but it's the basics."

She opened her office door with a key card, led the way inside, and then motioned toward a leather chair. It wasn't a whole lot different from Professor Collins' office, but I immediately felt more at ease here. I didn't feel like I was going to be the next example of faculty abuse. It felt very business-like.

"Let me get this straight. Your father is the same Ian Astrella who is serving time for his Ponzi scheme stealing thousands from people?" It was said without judgment. Just the facts.

I smiled. "Yes. But I really think it was millions."

"You are officially my most interesting student in years."

"You're not on my class schedule at all."

"A fact I'll be rectifying." She picked up her phone and buzzed some assistant who was sitting in some office somewhere that I hadn't seen yet. "Jean. I need you to get a student transferred into my practicum course for the fall term." A pause. She looked over at me. "I'm sorry. Your name is?"

I could hear the woman on the other side of the phone laugh, and I couldn't help but smile myself. That she didn't even know my name but was already taking a chance on me. "Georgie Astrella. Georgia. It'll be under Georgia."

"Did you get that, Jean?" Another pause. "Of course she does." Pause. "Fine. Georgia, do you want to be switched from Professor Collins' class into mine? "

Did I want to be switched out of Collins' class? Oh, yes. No doubt about it, and I was smiling and nodding all at the same time.

"She does." Pause. "Jean, she's sitting in front of me, nodding."

She handed me the phone. "She refuses to do it without speaking with you."

I laughed and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Young lady, my name is Jean, and I can absolutely, one hundred percent, switch your classes for you, but I want to make sure you are aware of what you are doing. Professor Sedgewick doesn't go easy on anyone. Her grades are usually abysmal with a few standouts, whereas Professor Collins is, well, let's just say that his classes usually do well. If you want me to switch you, I can, but it will likely cost you a few gray hairs and a few points on your G.P.A."

"Is she telling you I'm going to fail you?" Professor Sedgewick grimaced.

I couldn't help the smile that continued to grow on my face. "Thank you so much for the warning, Jean. But I think, after having met both the professors, I'd much rather take my chances with Professor Sedgewick than Professor Collins."

Jean, whoever she was, chuckled. "Smart girl. I'll email you a new schedule once I've handled it."

"Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, but also don't come crying to me when she doesn't give you the grade you want."

My heart was happy as Jean hung up, and I put the receiver down.

"You've met Collins, then?" Professor Sedgewick asked as she eyed me up and down. It wasn't uncomfortable but more assessing. "Did he give you the binder for his case work?"

I nodded.

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I had a boyfriend who needed me to pick him up because his car broke down."

She laughed. It was beautiful in her southern twang, and it instantly relaxed me.

"Do you have a boyfriend who needed picking up?"

I shook my head ruefully. "No, but Mac would have played along if I had needed to provide proof of one."

She assessed me again. "Mac?"

"He's my roommate. He and his sister, Dani, work for Senator Matherton."

"The Whittaker clan!" she said.

I looked at her in surprise. "You know them?"

"I know their father, the Vice Admiral, fairly well, and their grandfather, Robert, who is the chief of staff for Matherton."

I stared at her. "I'm not sure what to say. It seems very strange that a town this big would have me finding two people in a matter of days who know each other."

"Georgia, you'll see, this town is smaller than a five-hundred-person town in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains."

I laughed. "It's Georgie."

"Not anymore it isn't. "

"Excuse me?"

"Georgie is a girl who works at a hair salon. Georgia is the lawyer everyone trusts."

"To be fair, everyone trusted Georgie to do their hair perfectly. No one left my salon unhappy."

"That is exactly what you'll want them to say when they leave your law office as well."

? ? ?

By the time I got home, I was still smiling. Both excited and nervous. Theresa—because she'd insisted I call her Theresa—had given me a file with multiple cases to look up, all related to immigrant children. I'd happened to be in the right place, at the right time, with the right case law opened up today. It felt like my first truly lucky break in a while, and I thought maybe the universe wasn't playing with me as much as I'd thought.

When I entered the apartment, Mac was at the bar in the kitchen with a sandwich from the same deli down the street that I'd been frequenting since moving in. Congress was adjourned for the month of August, but Mac and Dani had been spending hours at the office anyway. I wasn't sure if that was because Mac was avoiding me like I'd been avoiding him, or if they really just had that much work to do while Matherton was on vacation with his family. Dani had mentioned something about several bills they were trying to get their arms around so Matherton could push them forward once Congress was back after Labor Day.

I couldn't avoid Mac now without being rude .

"Hey," I said, putting the volume of books and folders down on the side table in the entry.

"Wow. You really are taking this pre-studying studying serious."

I smiled. "Actually, I had a new professor take me under their wing today."

He grimaced. "More of them hitting on you?"

I shook my head. "No. This one was a woman, and before you say it, I know she could have hit on me too, but she wasn't interested in me for my looks, just my research skills."

I grabbed a mineral water and my leftover noodles from the fridge, nuking the noodles and then joining him at the bar, my happiness spilling over into my smile.

"Research makes you happy?"

I nodded. He sighed. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for it myself."

"But it's an important part of the legislative process."

"Yeah. I know. I guess I'm used to filtering through intel reports that are just…different."

He dropped his bag of chips, bent down to get them, and when he came back up, our legs got tangled together. He wasn't in a suit that had been his norm since coming back to D.C. Suits that fit him as if he'd been born wearing them and made him look even larger—if that was possible. Instead, he was in shorts and a T-shirt that stretched across the expanse of his chest. When my legs—that were also bare in a summer dress—touched his, it was skin to skin, jolting me back to our milkshake moment that had caused me to scurry and stay away.

Our touch was like every time we'd touched, thunderclouds rolling in and booming off my back and lightning going off in my eyes. I pulled my legs away and turned back to the noodles in my bowl, trying to remember what they tasted like, because the only taste I had now was of Mac and the salty sunshine of our kiss on a boat in Rockport.

He cleared his throat and opened the bag. "What's this professor's name?"

"Theresa Sedgewick."

Dani came down the hall to stand between us, an arm on each of our shoulders. "What about Theresa?"

"She said you knew her."

"Sure, she's one of Dad's friends. From college, I think. She helps us out at the senator's office once in a while when we need a third-party legal opinion."

I laughed. "This town really is small."

"Smaller than a submarine," Dani said. "What about her, though?"

"She saw me studying in the law library and asked me to help her with some research before classes start next week."

"Lucky for you! She's smart and talented." She stole one of Mac's chips, and he flicked at her wrist in a way that spoke to all their interactions that I'd seen—sibling harassment and love all rolled into one.

"Which of you is coming to the gym with me?" she asked.

"Not me," Mac said. "I'm going to watch the Redskins' pre-season game. "

"Not me, either," I said. "I want to make some headway through the case so I know what I'm doing tomorrow."

"You two are no fun."

"Working out with you in the gym is no fun either." Mac guffawed.

"The Navy man can't keep up?"

"Who would want to keep up with you and the squats from hell?"

"You're not going to be able to fit in those new suits if you keep it up."

He groaned. "Fine," he said. "I'll go, but I'm not doing squats."

"Really?" Dani looked surprised, but I wasn't. He really was avoiding me like I had been avoiding him.

If Dani had noticed the increased disquiet between us over the last few weeks, she hadn't said anything. She still watched Fighting for the Stars with me and razzed Mac about being the newbie on the Hill. She acted like we were all exactly what we'd set out to be: roommates.

In the quiet that was left behind in their departure, I tried not to let the whole exchange dim the smile I'd felt when I'd walked into the apartment, but it had. Everything in my life was going better than I'd expected when I'd applied for law school and been accepted way back in January. Everything except this one thing. And I wished again that Mac and I would find a way past this. That the awkwardness would ease into the friendly banter that I had with any of my friends, male or not. Like the banter he had with Dani.

? ? ?

Theresa wasn't kidding when she said she needed someone to do research. I wasn't sure if she was testing me, or just desperate, but she dragged me around with her for the next week like some combination of a personal assistant and a paralegal. I was neither, and she actually had both. She didn't have a law office. She told me she'd given it up when she'd taken on the full-time position at Georgetown, but she had a staff that worked part time out of her house on the outskirts of town.

Because she didn't have her own office, she rarely took on cases, but the ones she took were because she was passionate about them. Kacey, her paralegal, and Ryan, her personal assistant, were both enrolled in classes at Georgetown's main campus, not the law school. They came and went from her house with their own key, often ignoring the daggers Theresa threw out at them about not being there when she needed them. It wasn't true; they were highly efficient, and they also weren't afraid to tell her when she'd overstepped. It left me admiring all of them for their strength and outspokenness. It was the way I handled all my relationships.

Except one …my soul whispered to me. And I realized, with a shock, that it was true. I'd been avoiding a certain man with eyes the color of the sea and sky. I'd known that. I'd used my time with Theresa as an excuse to continue to ignore him and the issue, instead of just facing it head on—with facts, and truths, and proofs. But it was the complete opposite of how I'd handled everything else in my life, and I was so rt of tired of it.

Theresa saying my name brought me back from my heart-to-heart with myself.

"Georgia is the only one who deserves to be paid, and she isn't even making any money," she threw at Kacey when she saw her heading toward the door on Friday.

"Georgia is going to learn soon enough that if she doesn't tell you no, you'll take until there's nothing left but a burnt stub," Kacey hollered back. "I'll see you next week."

"Next week?" Theresa groused.

"It's Friday. I have a boyfriend and a life waiting for me. If you had a relationship, other than one with the law, you'd understand."

Then, Kacey was gone.

I was smiling as I shut my computer.

"Are you leaving me, too?" she asked. "I suppose you have plans, also."

"No," I said, thinking about the apartment and the tension that was there now all the time because of Mac and me. I had a renewed desire to fix the situation, but I wasn't sure how.

"Oh Lord, there's that wistful look all you young people get."

I laughed. "I'm not wistful or young."

"What do you call that face?"

"Thoughtful."

She laughed.

"If that's thoughtful, I'm twenty-one again." She eyed me over the top of her steepled fingers. "Are you worried about classes starting?"

"No, not really."

"I won't hold back on you just because you're helping me, you know. Don't expect any freebies."

It was my turn to stare her down. "I don't expect handouts."

"Good."

My phone buzzed.

RAISA: They are at each other's throats again.

ME: You still don't know why?

RAISA: I have my…what is the word? Suspicions? But no facts.

ME: No proof, you mean.

RAISA: Yes. This. No proof.

ME: Just ask him about it.

I realized, after texting Raisa those words, that the solution was really that simple. I just needed to talk to Mac. Get things out in the open. Put everything on the table and move on so we didn't continue to dance around the apartment, avoiding each other.

RAISA: That is never easy with Malik.

ME: All you can do is try.

I put my phone back in my bag and picked up all my belongings.

"One text conversation and everything is better?" Theresa smiled at me.

"What? No. That was my sister."

"But you've resolved whatever was making you squishy-faced?"

I laughed. "I'm not sure I'd say I was squishy-faced any more than I'd say I'd been wistful."

"Trust me. I've been reading people for years. You were squishy-faced and wistful. Now that you have that problem resolved," Theresa continued, "will you have time this weekend to spend on the case?"

"Sure," I told her, making my way to the door. "I'll be back in the morning."

"Bring more of that black-and-white coffee stuff."

I nodded and left. My brain was on Mac and the long overdue discussion we needed to have. But when I got back to the apartment, it was to find out that Mac had had very different ideas. Dani told me he had taken the train home to Delaware with his dad, which made me wonder if the only real solution to our situation was for me to just move out so he wouldn't have to run from his own home.

? ? ?

My first day of classes came and went, leaving me exhausted and wired at the same time. The other students had been friendly, and, true to her word, Theresa hadn't given me an inch. If anything, she'd judged me harsher than the other students whenever I'd made a comment.

When I made my way back to the apartment, it was late, and I was surprised to be the first one home. I felt like celebrating, and for the first time in a long time, I felt alone.

I pulled my phone out of my bag to text Raisa and realized I'd missed a text from Dani.

DANI: You've survived your first day! Congrats! We're bringing home Bentley's.

It filled my heart. I was just about to text back when the door opened and the siblings entered, in the midst of a heated discussion.

"He didn't mean that," Dani said.

"Of course, you'd think that," Mac was saying.

They both stopped when they saw me, but Mac seemed to take me in for longer, as if he was trying to assess if I'd changed from the last time I'd seen him.

"We didn't think you were home," Dani said.

I waved my phone. "I was just about to text you."

"Congrats on your first day! How was it?" Dani asked as Mac started to unload the bags, the smell of garlic and basil filling the apartment and making my stomach growl loudly.

"It was really good, but I didn't get a chance to eat," I answered over another loud grumble from my intestines.

"We can tell." Mac grinned, and my stomach flipped again but for a different reason. Because Mac's smile was gorgeous, and every time I thought I'd gotten used to it, I was proven wrong .

I pulled out plates from the cupboard, and we all dished up, sitting at the counter while I talked about my day, and they talked about theirs. It felt like, maybe, Mac and I were moving closer to the friendship that I was hoping we'd find.

We were almost done when Dani's phone buzzed. She looked down at the text before jumping off the barstool and heading down the hall.

"Who is he, Dani?" Mac tossed at her.

She just waved the phone at him and kept going.

He turned back to me.

"I'm glad you had a good first day," he said.

I nodded, picking up the plates, and he joined me. We cleaned the kitchen in silence. We both reached for the kitchen towel at the same moment, our hands tangling and then stilling. I pulled my hands away, crossed my arms over my chest, and swallowed. I wanted to have this talk. I wanted to move on, or move out, or just do something instead of hiding.

"You've been avoiding me," I said.

"Not so much avoiding as giving us some space," he said, but he moved closer to me as he said it, leaning on the counter next to me so our arms were almost touching.

"This is space," I teased, but he didn't smile in return. Instead, his eyes seemed to bore into mine, and I found my courage and resolve melting beneath the heat of his stare.

"Will you be honest if I ask you something?" he asked quietly.

That made me raise my chin in irritation. "I'm always honest. "

"Is it just me, or is this," he waved a finger between us, "different for you, too?"

His words made me wish I hadn't said I was always honest. Because I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him how he made me feel. "Different how?" I asked, stalling.

His hand went to my hair, twirling fingers into my ponytail, tugging at the white stripe that had been there since that night my dad was arrested. He was too close for mere friends. For the mere roommates that I'd resolved we had to be.

"Different, as in, never had moments like these before. As in, I'm not sure I can stop touching you now that I've started. Different, as in, I feel like the pieces of us might just fit together better than any person has ever fit with me before."

The words made my heart soar and stop all at the same time, aches of regret filling me. "Except we don't, Mac. Not at all," I told him, being as truthful as he'd asked me to be.

"Forget everything about your family and my political goals. If we hadn't told each other any of that… If we'd just had that one incredible kiss and were here now, would you want me to take you out on a date? Would you be asking me, this very second, to kiss you again?"

He wanted to act like none of it existed. To pretend like we didn't know all the things about each other that would never work. And I wasn't sure if that hurt more or less than him not wanting to be with me at all, because I deserved to be with someone who chose me in spite of my family, not regardless of them.

"But I can't do that," I told him. "We have told each other those things. It's all twined together. Our families, our lives, and what we want for our futures. We barely know each other, but what we know is enough to know that our lives don't fit. Even in the short term."

I pulled my ponytail from his hands, smoothing it with my own.

"You're right that we barely know each other," he said. "You're right that, even in the short term, we seem like jagged edges instead of smooth curves. But all I know is that when I kissed you, I felt forever. Forever in one kiss."

I moved away from him and toward the loft because, suddenly, I wasn't ready for this conversation at all. I hadn't expected it to turn on me in this way. He'd taken everything I thought I was going to say and swallowed it up in talks of forever. And I was surprised and unprepared for the longing and bitterness that filled me at his words. I may have never longed for a happily ever after before, but I knew, if it wasn't for my family, I would have been caving. Giving in to him and the sweetest words that anyone had ever spoken to me… forever in a kiss . But I denied it all, instead. I spoke from the bitterness instead of the longing. "I don't want forever with you, Mac."

"No?" he responded, trailing after me, not at all put off by my words. Instead, he continued to push rather than walk away. "Because I think I sure as hell would like a chance to explore the idea of one with you."