Arms around each other’s waists, Scarlet guided her friend through to the living room. They’d spent months here together in this very room, going over plans for their business, discussing individual strengths, hopes, fears. Both women had been so anxious—and thrilled—when the doors to DC Affairs had finally opened.
Since then, they’d learned together and, like anyone, had made their share of mistakes. But they hadn’t quarreled once and, consequently, their friendship had grown even stronger. There were times they laughed and times where one or the other had needed support.
Times like this.
The women took a seat close together on a sofa positioned adjacent to the piano and directly opposite the fireplace. On the mantel, Scarlet’s parents smiled out from the heart of a white-gold frame. The three Anderses were cut from the same cloth—proud, strong and loving…. Although her mother could be a little, well, overzealous sometimes. She was pleased her daughter was dating a Matheson, and didn’t lose an opportunity to remind Scarlet of such.
Still, if there was one thing Scarlet could be certain of, it was her roots. Today, Ariella’s journey of fitting together missing pieces of her own past might truly have begun.
Staring down at the envelope, Ariella siphoned back a big lungful of air, then blew it shakily out.
“I haven’t stopped looking in the mirror, at photos,” she said, “wondering if there’s a resemblance. I find myself smiling, hoping that it’s him. Then I wince thinking how he might react if it’s true. And most of all …” She pushed out a sigh. “Most of all I wonder about my mother. I’m actually grateful the press dug around the president’s earlier life and found out who his high school sweetheart was. We know she left for Ireland years ago, but why can’t Eleanor Albert be found now? Why did she give me up for adoption? I need to know why she and Ted Morrow broke up. Was it because of the baby? Because of me?”
“At least you have a name now,” Scarlet said gently.
Ariella nodded, pushed out another shuddery breath, then shunted the envelope across to her friend.
“Will you do it?” she asked. “I’m shaking so much, I might tear it.”
A withering feeling fell through Scarlet’s center. The country was on tenterhooks waiting for these results. Now was one of those pivotal moments in history, and she’d be one of the first to know the truth.
Scarlet pried open the flap, slid out the record, ran her eye down the page. Lots of stats, but the information Ariella so desperately sought was outlined at the top.
“It says there’s a 99.99999% probability of paternity.” Lowering the page, Scarlet met her friend’s glassy gaze. “That means Ted Morrow is your father. Ariella, you’re the president’s daughter.”
“There’s been a whisper. A congressional committee’s been formed to look into this hacking business.”
Receiver pressed to an ear, Daniel smirked at Max Grayson’s announcement. “I was privileged to have received a personal invitation to the proceedings.”
The laptop sat at one side of his desk. Daniel opened the most recent Waves feed, scrolled down, but no word of a committee had gone viral yet … although every man and his dog was discussing ANS’s paternity accusation against President Morrow.
“The White House must be revved up on high preparing to hunt down anyone connected with tampering with private phone and computer lines to obtain the information.” Max circled back. “Did you just say someone from this committee called you?”
“Affirmative. Can you give me some background? I know that Brit, Colin Middlebury, was lobbying for the U.S. to form a tech treaty with the U.K.”
“Middlebury got the treaty through with Senator Tate’s support. Word is, Middlebury’s family has been stung by hacking jobs in Britain. He’s passionate about hauling guilty parties out into the open and bringing them to justice.” Max’s voice lowered. “If they’ve asked you to appear, be sure to take your lawyer.”
Daniel groaned. “And a joyous time was had by all.”
“Don’t joke about it. They’ll pick your brains till they bleed about the fundamentals and specifics of the nebulous art of hacking. Whether you might have any ideas or leads on any likely suspects.”
“I’m not in the business of consorting with people who get their jollies from illegal activity.”
“But you are a world leader in IT. So, any ideas?”
“You mean aside from the obvious?”
“ANS.” Max hissed down the line. “That network’s ethics are questionable, and that’s being kind. If there’s no political dirt around, they’ll rustle up some grist and churn out their own. I can tell you, given Cara’s condition, she’s pleased to be away from all that.”
Daniel remembered their conversation when Max had shared his engagement news. His pregnant fiancée had walked away from her high-pressure position in the White House Press Office to work with her party-planning friends in a PR capacity. This was his in.
“Actually, I met Cara’s friend today,” he said.
“Ariella?”
“Scarlet Anders. I dropped into DC Affairs.”
“You should have called. Cara doesn’t go in every day, but she’d have been happy to show you around. What were you doing there?”
“Being a good best man.”
“You mean looking into organizing stuff? Guess we’ll have to start thinking about cars and suits and those preceremony drinks.”
Sure. Not that he drank. Ever.
“She’s an interesting woman.”
“Scarlet? Cara adores her,” Max confirmed. “Although, between you and me, she can be a little snooty. You won’t catch Scarlet Anders putting a debutante foot out of place. Her parents are pillars of Washington society and their little girl is a carbon copy of her folks. First Lady material, that one.”
Daniel grimaced. A life of unerring duty and plastic smiles? “Maybe she needs someone to show her how to loosen up.”
“That someone being you?”
“I asked her out to dinner. She said no.”
“We’re paying DC Affairs to do a job. Scarlet wouldn’t dream of mixing business with pleasure.”
“I thought she might be involved with someone.”
“Cara and I went out with her and a high-profile suit named Everett Matheson recently. Starchy personality to go with his impeccable pedigree.”
“Is it serious?”
“They were both so concerned about making sure they used the right fork and acknowledged the right people, I couldn’t tell.”
“But no kissing? Holding hands? Rubbing noses?”
“She straightened his tie at one stage.”
Daniel grinned. “You won’t turn me off. You know how I love a challenge.”
“I know how much you like laid-back and that, my friend, is something Scarlet Anders is not. Poised, admired, even snobbish, yes. She’d rather stab herself in the heart than pick her teeth in public.”
Daniel thought about how he loved to shovel popcorn while watching a game. How he abhorred routine and attending functions because it was expected. He recalled how he got off on revving his motorbike to the max down the Great Ocean Road when the urge struck. Then he imagined Scarlet sitting behind him wearing Catwoman leathers, clinging on, arms lashed around his waist with the wind making flying ribbons of her long red hair. At least he guessed that, when it was free, her hair was long. Past her shoulders. Maybe