Chapter 5

The stylist whipped the chair around so Meredith could face the mirrors. “Voilá,” she announced, gesturing toward the mirror. “C’est magnifique!”

Looking at her reflection was something of a shock—a throwback to the days of too much hairspray, leg warmers, and lace gloves with no fingers. Curled and teased, Meredith’s usually natural-looking blonde hair sported bangs that were at least six inches high.

Treat everyone on the production staff with kindness and respect, her mother, the media queen, had reminded her that morning. You never know who might tell a bad story to the press, so don’t give them anything to write about. Surely Mom didn’t mean she’d have to go on television as part of the Hairspray Nation.

She clenched her jaw as she struggled to say something positive. “Oh! You certainly have a talent for creating body and fullness,” Meredith offered.

Continuing her fake French accent, the stylist whipped her back around. “Now, we should start on ze make-up.”

“That’s fine, um…” she looked for a name tag and found it, “Fifi.” Really? Fifi? Help me not be snarky. “I prefer to do my own make-up.”

Fifi protested, but Meredith eventually convinced her to leave the Green Room, claiming anxiety and a need to be alone before the show. Fifi harrumphed and marched out, pushing past a figure leaning up against the door to the room, his fist up to his mouth trying hard not to laugh. “Well, sis, it looks like you have things totally under control as always.” Will’s eyes, the same golden brown as Meredith’s, were hidden behind crinkles of amusement.

“I am so glad to see you, Will,” Meredith said.

“It looks like I might be a decade or two late,” he quipped, coughing to cover a deep laugh. “Do you need any more hairspray, Mer?” He took the can and mischievously aimed it at her.

“It’s all fun and games until there’s a hole in the ozone.” She playfully grabbed his wrist to force the can down. “Or until Dad goes down in the polls,” she said, her voice becoming serious. She replaced the can on the vanity. “How did I end up being the one on Ask It, Izzy?”

“You know you’ve always been the sweetheart of the family, Mer. Now that you’re living in Washington, everyone is just curious about you.” Will browsed the beauty products on the vanity. “Besides, you’re much better looking than your older brother.”

Meredith rolled her eyes and took a brush to her hair trying to tame some of the worst waves. “Mom said it’s part of being American royalty. The U.S. doesn’t have their own Prince William and Kate, so they watch the families of celebrities or politicians. I guess being the daughter of a senator qualifies me as ‘interesting’.” She put down the brush and studied her brother’s similar features in the mirror. “Can’t they watch you for a while?”

“I guess I don’t give them what they want to see.” Will grinned and sat in the folding chair next to Meredith’s salon chair.

“Yeah, right. You’re a successful attorney and consultant to the CIA, FBI, and Homeland Security—what wouldn’t they like?” Meredith pulled out her make-up case and started applying foundation with a round sponge. “Besides, I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ.” A voice behind them interrupted, and Will and Meredith turned. “I’m interested. I’m very interested.” Scott Jackson stood at the door, his gaze quickly finding Meredith and crossing the room. Will rose to shake his hand, but Scott made a straight line to Meredith who was brushing powder on her cheeks and nose. “Hi, babe,” he said into her ear and spun the chair around and kissed her.

“Hey you,” Meredith said, lingering under his attention, but becoming disappointed when Scott released her and began assessing the dressing room.

“Is this their largest dressing room?”

“I don’t know. I forgot my tape measure.” Meredith continued to stroke her cheek with the brush.

Scott snorted and held up the suit she was planning to wear. “Did Celeste help you pick this outfit?”

“Would you still like it if I said no?” Meredith rolled her eyes, knowing Scott trusted her mom with anything to do with the media, but he didn’t trust her very much. Frowning, she suddenly realized Scott’s arrival was more about him and her father than about her.

“Aw, babe. Why are you so tense?” Scott asked while peeking in the shoebox on the top of the clothing rack. “You’re going to do great.” He flashed his straight, white smile at her. “Is something wrong?”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” She pressed her lips together. “Is everything all right at the Senator’s office?”

“Yeah, I just got caught in a meeting.” Meredith watched him in the mirror as he pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through his messages. The mirrors around the room loved his classic features, blond wavy hair and broad shoulders. She sighed while watching him read, totally unaware of his reflection around the room. He was successful and good-looking—sometimes she couldn’t believe he was with her.

“A meeting with Daddy? Does he know about the interview?”

“Yes, he knows.” Scott didn’t even look up from his phone. “He’s going to have his television on at nine-thirty.”

It might be on, but he wouldn’t be the one watching it. Meredith sighed then headed to the clothing rack on the side of the room. “Gentlemen, I need to finish dressing. If you could please…” She gestured to the door.

“Anything for you, your highness.” Will bowed and ducked out the door. She wadded up a tissue and playfully threw it at him.

Scott came in close behind her. Placing his hands around her waist, he kissed a line from her neck to her shoulder. “Your highness, huh? Well, milady, I can help release some of that stress if you want.” His hands wandered north of her belly.

Does he ever think of anything else? “Maybe later. I’m kinda nervous about the interview.” She rolled out of his arms, stepping toward the garment bag holding the GOP-approved outfit of the day.

Meredith tried to ignore Scott frowning. “Who are you saving it for, Mer?” he said under his breath, obviously frustrated.

Choosing not to start a confrontation, Meredith concentrated on hanging the garment bag and unzipping it. “I’ll be done getting ready in just a few minutes,” she hinted, looking at the door.

Scott sulked as he left, but Meredith was finally alone. She sighed as she sat in front of the mirror to put on her make-up. Although not a fashion plate, Meredith found the process of getting ready oddly relaxing. Maybe it was the transformation that she created, but more than that, it was something she did for herself that she had control over. She carefully applied make-up, a little heavier than normal to account for the stage lights, and she expertly pulled her too-teased hair into a thick silver barrette, keeping her hair long and full in back. Finally, she slipped into the conservative navy suit and pink blouse that had been chosen by her mother’s buyers and looped the matching scarf loosely around her neck. There—just what the press expects. She scowled at the thought of it.

Meredith didn’t mind doing interviews or appearances for her father, but ever since she moved to Washington D.C. to do her medical residency at George Washington University, the interest the public had in her life—both professionally and personally—spiked. This interview was a good example. Society reporter Izzy Garcia, host of Ask It, Izzy, had been stalking her for an interview for months. Phone calls, emails, texts, and random chance meetings, all to pressure Meredith to appear on the show. Meredith would have said no, hell no, to ever appearing, but Scott had talked her into it.

“Your dad needs more ties to the younger voters. An appearance with Izzy would show the nation that Senator St. Claire isn’t out of touch with the younger generation.” Scott made his case over a quick lunch at Union Station in downtown D.C.

“But I think she’s a pest,” Meredith complained while claiming a table in the crowded bottom floor food court. “She shouldn’t be rewarded with an interview after stalking me.”

“She’s a reporter. Reporters do crazy things to get a good story.” He ran his thumb along her knuckles and circled the back of her hand. “You’re a good story.”

“Scott, I’m not my mother. My life is not just doing appearances in support of Senator St. Claire. I’ll have to get the day off, find something to wear, rehearse talking points…”

He quieted her with a short kiss. “Do this for me. For your dad.”

There was never an argument if it was for the Senator. It was just weird to have her boyfriend pulling the strings.

A knock at the door and a call giving her a five-minute warning brought her out of her thoughts. Nothing I can do about it now. Izzy Garcia is going to get her interview. She took a deep breath while examining herself one more time in front of the full-length mirror then stepped out into the hallway and into the backstage area.

Scott and Will were already there waiting. Will pulled her over with a hand on her shoulder and said, “Izzy just finished interviewing the founder of CellSource. She wasn’t too mean.”

CellSource was a D.C. company that went from being basically bankrupt to having billions in assets overnight. There really wasn’t anything controversial or political about their story, it was just one of those business success stories that everyone likes to hear. “Maybe she is saving her worst for me,” Meredith muttered.

Scott faced her and held her at her upper arms looking her squarely in the eye. “Remember the talking points—the fundraiser tomorrow, the campaign stop in Baton Rouge next week, the funding for defense and humanitarian projects—you know what to say.”

His pep talk felt vaguely like he should end it with a slap on the ass and a “Go get ’em!” but she was too distracted to say anything about it. They were coming back from commercial.

“Welcome back, Izzy-ites!” Izzy smiled and bowed while the obviously excited audience cheered and chanted, “Ask it! Ask it!”—the signature phrase for her show. She gestured for the audience to settle down and began. “Thank you, thank you so much! We have a fantastic second half today. Backstage, we have Meredith St. Claire, the very successful and beautiful daughter of Senator William St. Claire from Louisiana.” There was a smattering of applause.

“Yes. Now, we know the Senator’s name has been mentioned for a possible presidential run, and we will ask about that, but, there’s more to Miss Meredith than her father’s career, isn’t there?” Izzy was nodding while the audience clapped again and began another chorus of “Ask it! Ask it!”

Meredith, panicked, looked at Scott. “What is she talking about? What is she going to ask me?”

The stage manager took her arm and pulled her to the edge of the curtain, away from Scott and Will. Meredith’s heart was racing, and she had to calm down. She closed her eyes and pulled the long chain out from her blouse. At the end of the chain was a small key that she held, focusing on deep breaths, imagining a field of lavender, a blanket, and endless blue eyes focused on her. She almost heard the deep voice, “It will be fine, dushen’ka.” Smiling she assessed the show differently. What mattered wasn’t here, and Izzy Garcia wasn’t going to embarrass her.

“Let’s welcome Meredith St. Claire.” Amid the applause, Meredith confidently walked on stage, acknowledged the audience with a stunning smile and wave, greeted Izzy warmly, and sat in the interviewee’s chair gracefully. So far, so good.

“Meredith.” Izzy’s interviews often started friendly, and then moved to the tough questions. “Tell us what it’s like to be a senator’s daughter, I mean, some people might say that you are the royalty of the United States.”

Meredith kept her face from cringing at that phrase being used again. She tried to be genuine and forthright as she answered. “If I’m royalty, I’m certainly not close in the line of succession.” She smiled warmly. “Maybe I’d be a lady-in-waiting or someone who works to make the world around them better.”

“What do you mean, make the world better?” Izzy asked, giving her a tremendous opening.

“I want to use my influence, no matter how small it is, to make the world better. That’s why I have volunteered with Doctors Without Borders for the last four summers. Now that I have my medical degree, I can volunteer as a doctor to treat people in areas of the world where medical services aren’t easy to come by.”

Izzy asked a couple more questions about medical school and about her volunteer work, and Meredith was feeling pretty good about the interview when things suddenly changed.

“Okay, audience, it’s time for Meredith to face the tough questions.”

The audience cheered loudly and chanted: “Ask it! Ask it!”

Izzy leaned back and retrieved her box of “Ask it!” questions, another signature of the show. She pulled out a bright blue card, read it silently, and made a production about gasping and fanning herself with the card. “Are you ready for this, Meredith?” The audience cheered.

Meredith laughed lightly, much more uncomfortable than she hoped she was portraying on camera. “Bring it on, Izzy,” she said appearing confident, she hoped.

“Okay, okay.” Izzy quieted the audience. “We understand that wedding bells are ringing for you and a certain senior member of your father’s staff. Is it true that you and the very hunky Scott Jackson are getting married?” Behind them, a screen lit up with a large photo of Scott for the audience to see.

Meredith could feel her face color. She tried to glance backstage, to get some sort of reaction from Scott, but the lights prevented her from seeing him. Oh hell!

“Have you been swept off your feet, Miss Meredith? Is Scott off the market? Are you getting married?” Izzy repeated amid reactions from the audience.

Meredith coyly glanced to Izzy and backstage. “The truth is that Scott and I have not even talked about marriage. We are really enjoying getting to know each other while I’m living in a new city.”

There was a collective “Awwww!” from the audience.

Izzy broke in. “Tell us what it would take for you to take the ‘M-R-S’ title?”

The image of the blue eyes she visualized backstage immediately came to mind again. She saw little ones running around their daddy, just as the nieces and nephews did around Kostya that day in the field of lavender. She felt her heart float when he lay next to her and whispered softly words of love and home.

“Love and home,” Meredith repeated from her vision, aloud on the stage. She shook off the vision, but smiled at the audience. “I’m just like everyone else. I want to feel love and I want to have a place that is home. That’s what it would take.”

From there it was wrapping up, and before Meredith knew it, she was in the Green Room with Will and Scott again.

“That was brilliant, the whole thing about love and safety and houses, or whatever it was,” Scott was raving. “The Senator is going to see a big bump in conservative families.”

Meredith was gathering her belongings. “I’m glad it will help him,” she said drily.

Scott fumbled in his jacket and pulled out his cell phone. Reading a message, he said, “Oh, crap. Will, can you take Meredith home? I’ve got to get to the Capitol.”

Will mock saluted. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

“Don’t wait up for me, okay Mer?” Scott said.

Meredith nodded, and Scott kissed her lightly and ran out.

Meredith hoisted her bag and started walking out. “Are you ready?”

Will followed her, grabbing her bag to carry it. “It was a good interview, Mer. Dad will be pleased.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Now, am I exempt for the next few years?”

Will laughed. “Not if we have a royal wedding.” Will hit her playfully on the arm. “Did Izzy have some information I don’t know about?”

Meredith scowled. “Absolutely not.” She pursed her lips then explained, “Scott isn’t someone who would go there, you know.” Or at least, I can’t see myself going there with him.

Will loaded her bag into his trunk. “Then why are you wasting your time with him?”

Meredith stared at Will skeptically. “Okay, Mister Can’t-Commit-To-Anything. You’re going to give me relationship advice? That’s rich.”

He opened the door to the car for Meredith. “I’ve only seen you gone enough to consider marriage once, and I never got to meet the guy.”

She didn’t have to ask who he meant. Will was the only one she had told about Kostya and her time in the Ukraine. “That was long ago.” She ducked into the car and he came around to the other side.

“It may have been a long time ago, but you didn’t reach out for Scott’s hand when you were nervous today. You grasped your necklace, the same necklace you’ve worn for five years.” Will started the car and drove out of the downtown parking lot. “Scott has never inspired your trust. I’ve never seen you lean on him for strength.”

Meredith crossed her arms and sank into her seat, uncomfortable with Will’s insights. “I’m pretty independent. I don’t need a man to ‘lean on for strength’.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Will frowned. “I just think you deserve to be appreciated.”

“Appreciation—the foundation for all great love stories. ‘Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and appreciate my intelligence’.”

Will shot her a look, and they were both silent as they approached Georgetown.

“He wasn’t supposed to stay,” Meredith admitted quietly.

“Huh?”

“Scott wasn’t supposed to stay in my townhouse. He said it was just until he found a new place since his lease was up and they were remodeling into condos.” Meredith remembered.

“So, why do you let him stay?” Will pulled up to the side by her house.

“I don’t know.” Meredith sighed. “We’re dating and everything. And Dad loves him so much. Maybe I thought if I committed, I’d finally get over…” She rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse. “Well, you know.”

Will got out and lifted her bag from the trunk. He walked her to the front door and waited while she unlocked it. “I’m here for you, sis. Whenever you decide what you really want.”

“I may take you up on that. Thanks, Will.” She smiled and gave him a hug.