The car ride from Manhattan to Washington had been tense, to say the least. By the time Courtney arrived home, Randy had the car loaded for their trip. Neither of them had said much, an unspoken tension hanging between them even as they arrived in DC just before midnight.

As she stood at the kitchen island, Courtney threw her frustrations into preparing food for her father's party. She wouldn't cry. It didn't matter that Nitro was all but gone, out of her life forever. And it didn't matter that Randy wouldn't talk to her. This weekend was about more than celebrating her father's 60 years of life. It was about reintroducing herself to the public as a political player.

"Corabeth?"

At the sound of the nickname her father had coined when she was just a child, Courtney looked up and smiled. "Hey, Daddy," she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears as she went back to her work.

"What are you doing?" Sean Lane asked, sidling up to his daughter at the counter.

"Making the cole slaw for your party," she answered easily as he reached into the bowl and plucked out a piece of cabbage.

"Isn't it kind of late for that?" the senator asked as he chewed.

Courtney turned and washed her hands quickly before grabbing a dish of shredded carrots. "If I don't do it tonight, it won't have time to chill before the party," she answered distractedly, refusing to meet her father's eye. If there was anyone in the world who could read her like a book, it was her father.

With a hand on her wrist, Sean drew his daughter's eye. "Sweetheart," he started. When she shook her head and started to turn again, he tightened his grip. "You wanna tell me why you're really down here? Instead of in bed with your boyfriend? Why there's a suffocating tension in this house that didn't arrive until you did?"

She cringed. She was an adult - one who had already been married once - but hearing her father imply that she should be in bed with her boyfriend still made her uncomfortable. "I don't know what you're talking about, Daddy. Things with Randy and I are fine."

Sean sank to one of the stools by the island and rested his chin on his hand. "If you're going to be a politician, you're going to have to learn to lie better than that, Corabeth," he said sleepily. "Does this have anything to do with the artist you brought to the EPA fund raiser?"

Sighing heavily, Courtney lifted her finished cole slaw from the counter and headed for one of the industrial-sized refrigerators. "Don't worry, Daddy. Nitro is a non-issue."

Though he tried to mask it, Sean couldn't help releasing a slight sigh of relief. "Oh?" he asked, though his tone was anything but interested.

Turning with a hand on her hip, Courtney nodded. "He got a job offer in Chicago. He is going to be the curator of a gallery there." Her father's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Yeah, I guess his Masters degree in Art History was more impressive to other people than it was to you and Mom," she added snidely.

"Now just a minute, young lady," her father's tone went from friendly to fatherly in a flash. "I never said there was anything wrong with your friend. I simply said that you could do better." With a sigh, he shook his head. "You have a great man upstairs, Courtney. And one who could be a very beneficial asset to this family."

Leaning against the counter, she braced herself for the inevitable "pep talk." It was a tradition for Sean and Alissa Lane to remind their daughter continuously of her responsibility to the family. Especially if they thought she was headed toward a bad decision.

"Don't give me that attitude," Sean warned. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Randy has a sterling reputation and an impeccable pedigree. He is exactly the kind of man that you need beside you in your senate pursuit," he argued. "And his father would make a fantastic running mate in the next Presidential race. The kind of "warm-hearted, down home" press that would come from that sort of story would almost make up for the scandal your former husband brought on this family."

Courtney could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It was rare that she have a confrontation with her mother. But her father? She never talked back to her father. Her parents were intimidating, and she feared disappointing them even in her late-twenties. Of course, that was before her father brought Dave into the conversation.

"I know you didn't just say that," she hissed, narrowing her eyes with her hands on her hips.

Rolling his eyes, Sean sat straighter on his stool. "Do not stand there as though you have a right to be offended at the truth. You know as well as I do that your husband's death drug this family's name through the dirt."

Every fear she had ever harbored of her father seemed to vanish as he continued to berate her late husband. "Stop it," she held up a hand, her voice raising slightly. "I know that David had his problems. I know that better than anyone. Surely better than you could ever pretend to know it. He was not perfect. But he did everything in his power to help your platform, to push you into the public eye as often as possible.

"No one benefited professionally from our marriage more than you did, Dad, so don't you dare sit there on your high horse and pretend like you don't owe him a fucking debt of gratitude that you're self-righteous pride will never allow you to repay." She felt as though her face was on fire as she gripped the counter top and fought to catch her breath.

Sean seemed shocked as he sat back and absorbed the words his daughter had just thrown at him. "First of all, I don't care how old you are, you will never raise your voice to me in this house again. Is that clear?" She rolled her eyes. "And second of all, you stand there and defend the man as though you understand the toll his death took on your mother and I. You conveniently ran off to Europe and hid from the prying eyes of the cameras."

Shaking her head, Courtney stomped her foot, knowing that she was acting like a child. "No," she stopped him. "You don't get to stand there and pretend that this is my fucking fault. And you sure as hell can't expect me to fix it by forcing me to marry someone that I don't love just because his father would make a great fucking running mate."

Both Lanes sat stock still, staring at one another for a long moment before Sean took a deep breath and began to speak. "In a perfect world, you would get the right ot make your own decisions. You would be afforded the opportunity to speak your mind and live your own life." Standing, he moved closer to her. "But in this world, you do not do what you want, but what you have to do. You are a part of this family, whether you like it or not, Courtney. And I expect you to act like it." He kissed the top of her head before turning to leave the room.

Sinking to the floor, Courtney held her head in her hands and thought about her father's words. Was he right? Did she really have no choice but to do whatever they said? John had said that she should pursue her dreams whether anyone else liked them or not, and she had believed that it was possible to do so. But her father's tone was so authoritative, his logic so convincing, that she wondered if she ever had a prayer of taking control of her own life.