Breathless Secrets by Elizabeth Lennox
Chapter 8
Oh boy, she was trouble!
Molly watched as the tall, elegant woman stepped into the community center lobby, her nose high in self-righteous disdain. It wasn’t so much that this stranger lifted her nose in the air, as if the oxygen inside the building wasn’t worthy of her breathing it in. It was more that…well, it was as if the woman was taking pains not to touch anything. Perhaps she worried that touching the door handle might give her cooties.
Molly suppressed her amusement and pushed her chair back, coming towards the woman with what she hoped was a polite expression. Whoever she was, the stranger looked important. With James’ help, she’d learned not to disdain the rich people around town. They might not like visiting her center, but they liked to throw money at the various programs that the center sponsored, then advertise about how good they were because of their generous donations.
“May I help you?” Molly asked, feeling too good to let anybody bother her. She should have known better!
The woman’s tight lips curled into a disdainful smile. “I’m looking for Molly Bradshaw. Would you kindly direct me to her office?”
Molly clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m Molly. What can I do for you?” she replied, refusing to smooth her rumpled tee shirt.
A brief expression of surprise fluttered across the woman’s face before she hid her reaction. “Oh! Well!” She seemed startled for a moment. But the woman quickly pulled herself together, extending her manicured hand towards Molly. “I’m Eleanor Morgan,” she explained.
It took her a moment to make the connection, but as soon as she grasped that this was James’ mother, Molly’s surprise was quick and horrendous! “Oh! Um...I’m so sorry! You’re James’ mother!” she gushed. “Please, why don’t we go into my office?” Molly started towards her office, then stopped and turned back. “Unless you’d like a tour? I could show you around, explain what we do here.”
The woman looked over Molly’s shoulder, her nose wrinkling slightly as she glanced at the bustling room filled with kids, ranging in age from four years old in one corner, to teenagers that could be seen out on the basketball courts through the long, back windows. “No,” she replied smoothly, waving a hand grandly. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t have much time.” She glanced pointedly at her watch. “I have only a few minutes, but I wanted to speak with you.” She glanced pointedly over Molly’s shoulder, then back to Molly. “Privately, if possible.”
Molly felt a leaden lump of dread drop into her stomach. Something was wrong. Very wrong!
“Of course,” Molly replied weakly. “This way.”
Molly led the way to her office, feeling a looming sense of doom.
She stepped back to allow Ms. Morgan to enter first, then shimmied her way in, shifting a chair so that the door would close. It was awkward, but Molly eventually got it closed, then turned and walked around her small, metal desk, sitting in her creaky chair before folding her hands on the desk. “Okay, so how can I help you?”
The woman perched on the edge of the chair and, this time, Molly didn’t judge. The chair was probably dusty, unused except by stacks of files or miscellaneous sports equipment. This office was so small, Molly used it only to do paperwork, preferring to be out with the kids or staff. Besides, she usually had to speak with groups of people instead of one on one. Hence why it had been so difficult to close the office door.
Besides, the woman’s summer suit was absolutely beautiful! Good grief, that suit probably cost more than Molly’s monthly rent!
The woman cleared her throat, carefully placing her overlapping hands on her knee. “It’s about my son,” she began.
“One of my favorite subjects,” Molly admitted, thinking that was the answer any mother would want to hear.
Unfortunately, if Eleanor’s pinched features were any indication, that was the complete opposite from what she wanted Molly to say.
“Yes, well, the thing is,” she started off, “I need you to break things off with my son. Immediately.”
Molly blinked, stunned. “Break things off?” she repeated.
“Yes, dear.” The woman’s features didn’t change. She didn’t even blink!
Molly wanted to snap that she wasn’t her “dear”, but restrained herself. “Can you give me a reason?”
Eleanor looked around, and this time her nose actually did wrinkle disdainfully. Finally, her gaze landed back on Molly. “Ms. Bradford, my son is gaining in the polls right now.”
“I’m aware,” Molly replied, feeling a burst of pride in James’ accomplishments. “He’s wonderful with the reporters, knows how to charm an audience, and seems relentless about campaigning and getting votes. What’s more, he comes across as honest and sincere.”
Eleanor smiled tightly. “Yes. James is…very honest.” She shifted again. “Perhaps too honest.”
“I don’t understand,” Molly admitted.
“Several weeks ago, James came here to introduce himself to you, Ms. Bradford. He needed to be seen looking around at a community center. The reporters love getting pictures of politicians doing nice things for the community.” She stared, as if her words meant something more than she was saying. But Molly was oblivious. Eleanor rolled her eyes in disgust. “You see, James only needs the pictures, dear. You were probably a nice little bit of fun, but you weren’t the real reason for his visit.”
Molly still stared at the woman, uncomprehendingly.
Eleanor huffed with Molly’s inability to understand the underlying message. “You’re his last fling, dear! He’ll have to settle down and marry someone appropriate, someone that will help him with his career, but you’re clearly not that woman.” When Molly still stared blankly, Eleanor sighed. “He is a political shark, Molly!” the woman snapped impatiently. “You’ve never seen him in court, have you?”
Molly jumped at the woman’s outburst, startled and…still not sure what the woman meant. “No. I haven’t.” Molly leaned back in her chair, the sensation of dread filling her stomach and creeping up her throat.
“My son charms the jurors, Molly. He gets them on his side. Then he slaughters the defense’s case. When those pharmaceutical companies tried to explain away the deaths due to their lack of testing, my son demonstrated that their lies were nonsense.”
“That’s a good thing though,” Molly replied, through numb lips. In fact, she felt a bit numb all over. This woman, James’ mother, wasn’t really saying these horrible things, was she?
“Yes. It is. James is a shockingly wealthy man because of those cases. He also made a name for himself. Which is why he was able to step so easily into a political role.”
Molly disagreed, but she was starting to understand where this conversation was going. “Are you trying to tell me that James…is using me?”
“Yes, dear,” Eleanor replied. “He only needed good pictures for the campaign.”
“And he doesn’t need me,” Molly said softly, feeling hollow inside.
She sniffed, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “Well, he definitely needs a wife. And children would certainly help his image. But you…” Eleanor looked meaningfully around at Molly’s office, then at Molly’s ragged, well-worn clothing. “Well, I don’t think that you fit the image of a politician’s wife. Do you?”
It was Molly’s turn to squirm in her chair. But when Molly did it, the chair squeaked, the sounds echoing against the cinderblock walls. “I would think that James needs a woman who believes in him. The way I believe in him.”
Eleanor laughed, shaking her head. “My dear, James is a wonderful lawyer and will be a brilliant Senator. But he doesn’t understand how critically important one’s image is for that kind of career.” She leaned forward. “If you love him and…” her shrewd gaze caught Molly’s stunned expression, “…and I see that you do, then let him go. Don’t embarrass yourself or him. James needs a wife that understands the political world. He needs someone who can be by his side during endless campaign events and, after he wins the election, he’ll need a wife who will support his career.” She looked at Molly with a pointed look. “Do you intend to give up your career to support James?”
Molly didn’t answer. In fact, Molly couldn’t imagine working anywhere but here. She had huge plans for this center. She wanted to create so much more, to do so much more, for everyone who lived in this neighborhood. Give it up?
“I can see you haven’t thought this relationship through. So, let me explain how this works. A man’s political career is dependent on his wife moving in the right circles, knowing the right people, bringing the right people together at the parties and guiding his efforts from the sidelines.”
“Giving up one’s career when the husband gains political office…sounds a bit antiquated, don’t you think?” Molly offered. But in the back of her mind, Molly wondered how true that actually was.
Eleanor’s lips pursed with impatience. “Don’t be naïve, dear. This is the way the world works. Especially in Washington, D.C. Don’t you want James to succeed?”
“Of course,” Molly replied.
Eleanor’s eyes hardened and she leaned forward. “Then stop distracting my son, dear. Let him do what he does best. He’s so good at seeing what needs to get done, and getting it accomplished in ways that work best for the largest number of people.” Eleanor stood up and surreptitiously dusted off her elegant bottom. “I’ll see myself out.”
With that, she left the office, somehow getting the office door opened without the clumsy efforts that had hindered Molly.
For her part, Molly sat there, staring at the blank wall in front of her. Give up James? Not see him again?
Molly couldn’t process it.
But she knew who she could talk to! Molly grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder as she pulled her cell phone out of her purse, dialing a number as she headed for her car.
“Hey there!” Lilly answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you about something. Do you have time right now?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Drako is out of town, so I’m bored,” she said, referring to her handsome husband.
“Thanks.” Molly glanced at her watch. “I’ll be at your office in ten minutes.”
