A Political Affair (11 page)

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Authors: Mary Whitney

BOOK: A Political Affair
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After her final hack, she waited a moment before turning around. She hardly looked at him as he handed her the water. “Thank you.” She took a few swigs, washed out her mouth, and spat onto the ground. “Very ladylike, I know,” she joked.

“Very human.” He nodded to a short brick wall a few feet down. “Let’s sit here for a minute. I don’t think a car is the best thing for you right now.”

Sitting beside him on the wall, she felt the need to explain herself. “I’m sort of a slippery slope when it comes to nausea. Once my stomach starts churning, it just keeps going.”
 

“You’re doing pretty well, all things considered. I’m a baby when I’m sick. I start whining as soon as I get a stuffed-up nose.”

“That’s exactly the way my brother is.” She chuckled and took a sip of water. “I hope you know it’s incredibly annoying to the women around you.”

“And that’s why men don’t bear children. We couldn’t handle it.”
 

“That’s true.” She smiled at him, but quickly turned away when she saw how kindly he looked at her. After a moment of awkward silence, she declared, “I think I can go now.”

When they returned to the car, she observed as Stephen spoke to Jim out of earshot. Greg asked her how she was doing. “Okay, but a little wiped out,” she replied.

“Let’s get you home, then. My house isn’t far. You’ll be home in no time,” Greg said.

She agreed and climbed back in the car. Needing something to support her, she rested her head on the window.

Even before Greg got out of the car, her eyes drooped. At first, she fought to keep them open, but she soon reasoned it made sense to keep them closed. It felt better, and if they were closed, she wouldn’t have to make conversation with Stephen when she looked like crap and had vomit breath. She never expected to fall asleep.

“Well, hello, sleepyhead,” was the next thing she heard.
 

She blinked a few times trying to place herself. Across the seat, Stephen sat respectably on his side of the car with a happy grin. She was hesitant. “How . . . long did I sleep?”

“Your eyes were closed before we left Greg’s. We only got here a few minutes ago.”

She looked at the empty front seat. “No Jim?”

“He went to get coffee.” Stephen shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine.” She nervously touched her tousled hair.
 

“Here . . . have some more water.” He held the bottle out.

“Thanks.” She glanced outside. Despite the car’s dark windows, she saw they were parked a few houses down from her own.
 

“You look a lot better,” he said.

“Yeah, if I looked how I felt, I must’ve been pretty scary.”
 

“I didn’t mean it that way.” His brow furrowed. “You just looked ill.”

“Well, at least I didn’t make a mess in your car. I was worried about that.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t?”

“No. We weren’t driving far. Plus, I witnessed you deposit every last bit of your lunch on those nice people’s rose bushes.” He smirked. “It sounded like you got it all out.”

“Hey! You said you didn’t mind. What was I supposed to do?”
 

“I’m not saying you had a choice. You
were
really bad off. I’m simply saying those people were unlucky.”

“Okay. That’s true.”
 

“I hope there’s a good rain soon, or they won’t be able to enjoy their garden.”

Without thinking, she laughed and pushed at his arm. “Now you’re being mean.”

“No, I’m not. It’s a fact that it smells a little around there right now.”

“What?” She gave him a good punch.

“Hey!” He laughed and batted her off. “I believe physical violence against a government official is a federal offense.”

“I’m only defending myself from your teasing.”

The two playfully scuffled, until she realized what they were doing. They were touching. His suit coat was wool, but soft, and his hands were warm. When she realized she wanted to touch them more, she froze. His smile faded into a serious stare. The intensity of the moment was unbearable; she couldn’t live in the unknown anymore.

“Am I crazy?” she asked in a voice that gasped with exasperation. “Or is something happening here? Is there something happening between us?”

“I don’t know,” he replied slowly. “Something is for me.”

“And what is it?”

“Right now, I just wish I wasn’t a senator and you weren’t an intern in my office.”
 

His face remained placid and full of honesty. What little resolve she’d had left began slipping away. She kicked herself for giving in but decided to test the waters to see exactly what it was he wanted. “Why is that?”

“Because I’d really like to ask you out.” A hesitant smile formed again as he said it. “What I don’t know is—if we weren’t who we are—if you’d say yes.”

She smiled at his answer. No matter how much she wanted to kiss him at that moment, the fact he didn’t try something physical meant a lot. “If things were different, I’d definitely say yes.”

They shared a quiet smile, though he soon sighed. “Now what?”

She felt the weight of their circumstance take over the car. The impossibilities of a relationship with him flooded her mind, and she swallowed hard. “Nothing can happen. There’s too much at stake for you. If . . .
when
it came out . . . you’d have to lie or make up a stupid nondenial denial. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“There’s too much at stake for you, as well.” He shook his head. “It can’t happen to you either.”

Hearing aloud what she’d already told herself for weeks was painful, especially when they’d just admitted how they felt. She grasped for a solution.

“We could be friends.”

“We could.” His smile appeared again. “But there are limits on how friendly we can be.”


Friendly
?” She snorted. “I’d say the limits are pretty obvious, but how long do you think there would be these . . . restrictions?”
 

“Well, if Patty had her way, nothing could happen between us until after I win reelection next November and get sworn into office in January. Until then, we can only be friends—in the most platonic sense of the word.”

“Um, you’ve talked with Patty . . . about me?” She was shocked she’d been a topic of discussion with Patty, who Anne was sure breathed fire.

“It’s one of the worst downsides of my job. I’ve got to be managed for a lot of things—my work, my schedule. And with my . . . er . . . personal life, I’ve got to be open with Patty and Megan so they’re not blindsided if something comes out. Patty always says, ‘I can’t protect you if I don’t know what to protect you from.’ So yes, they both know something—Megan more than Patty.”

“Well, Megan’s friendly, but Patty always seems to look at me suspiciously.”

“Megan likes you. She’s been walking a fine line trying to help me out.”

“She sounds like a nice sister.” She grimaced, thinking about his other sister. “But Patty’s right. I’d only be trouble for you.”

“Even if you didn’t work in my office, it would be a problem if it were to come out I was friends with a gorgeous college student.” He smiled and raised his eyebrows.

Her face warmed hearing the compliment, and she shook her head. “Hardly.”

“The story would be I’d seduced a pretty young thing. You’d be a joke—not what you really are,” he said with a frown.

“What’s that?”

His voice softened. “The clever, funny, and beautiful woman with whom I share so much in common.”

“Oh, Stephen,” she said under her breath, taking in his sweet words.

“Not to mention, your father would kill me.” He chuckled.

“Ha! You don’t know my dad very well. He’d hate you, but he’d kill me. I’d be the one who let him down.”

“Even worse.” His smile soon disappeared. “And the fact that Dan Langford knows you work in my office is a red flag, too.”

Anne nodded. Everything he said made sense and only confirmed what she already knew. They were in an impossible situation. When she didn’t speak, he broke the silence.

“Despite all of that, I don’t want to stop talking to you . . . getting to know you.”

“Me neither.” She smiled shyly. “It would be nice to continue. Maybe a little frustrating, but—”

“Only a little frustrating?” He laughed.

“Okay. More than a little.” She winked. “A lot.”

Their eyes locked as they shared each other’s thoughts for a moment. She was sure she’d stopped breathing.
Oh my God. He’s going to kiss me.
 

“You know I want to kiss you right now, don’t you?” he said, arching his brow.

“Oh, you do, do you?” She giggled nervously.

“I’m trying to be good.”

“Yes, we’re in public.” She nodded toward the street.

“Well, yes, but we’ve also got a lot to think about and more to discuss.” His voice lowered. “And I want to kiss you . . . very much, but not here, not like this.”
 

“We’ll see if you get a second chance.”

“I’ll be happy if I just get to speak to you in private again.” He frowned as he checked his watch. “I’d like to stay and talk with you as long you’ll have me tonight, but I’ve got to leave for Denver in a couple of hours. I’m late actually, and I won’t be back until Tuesday.”

“Well, have a safe flight.” She smiled, though she was sad their time together was ending. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Good luck on your test on Saturday. You’ll do great.” He reached for her hand, and after admiring it for a moment, he looked into her eyes. “Good night.”

“Good night.” She squeezed his strong hand in return and left the car—stunned.

The next morning the office was shorthanded again, and Anne sat at the reception desk to cover the phones. It was a busy call day, which she hoped would distract her from thoughts of Stephen. But when she had to answer every call with “Good morning, Senator McEvoy’s office,” she was reminded of her predicament.
 

Wanting to clear her mind, she decided to spend time at her newfound quiet space on the Senate side of the Hill. Her Fridays always ended early at two o’clock, and she made her way to a small brick structure surrounding a fountain. With its aged walls and arches, dark green plants, and gurgling water, it felt like a hidden grotto in the middle of a city. When she walked through its gate, she was surprised to find someone else there.

An older woman sat on one of the benches dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Well dressed in the understated suit of a “lady who lunched,” she bore striking white hair and a lined face which still held the loveliness of its youth. She looked familiar, and Anne guessed she was a senator’s wife upset with her husband. Feeling like she was intruding on a personal matter, Anne turned to leave.
 

“No, dear. Don’t worry. Please stay.” The woman’s lips turned up into a smile. “These aren’t tears of sadness—well, maybe a little. I was only remembering how I sat here with my husband. He’s passed away.”

“Oh, I don’t have to stay. You probably want to be by yourself.”

“It would be nice to have some company. Not too many people spend any time in this place. It’s called Summerhouse. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t. What was it used for?”

“Back when people rode horses it was very popular as a watering hole.”

“I hadn’t heard the history.” Anne looked around at the rough-hewn stone. “I think it’s beautiful, but I suppose it’s sad the place is so quiet. More people should enjoy it.”

“I feel the same way.” The woman patted the bench. “Please, come sit here.”

“Thank you,” Anne said, taking a seat.
 

“I’m Lillian McEvoy,” the woman declared with a broad smile. “What’s your name, dear?”

Chapter 9

Anne wasn’t sure if she successfully hid her shock as she sat beside Lillian McEvoy. She wasn’t just Stephen’s mother; Lillian McEvoy was the country’s most famous political matriarch—much better known than her senator son. Anne’s own mother and father would be impressed to meet her.
 

   
Anne sat a bit straighter. “My name is Anne Norwood, and actually, I’m interning in Senator McEvoy’s office.”

“Well, what a coincidence.” Mrs. McEvoy’s face lit up as she turned toward Anne.

“Yes, it is.” Although she was rattled, Anne maintained a calm smile. “It’s been a great experience so far.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear.” Mrs. McEvoy gave her a once over. “So are you a senior in college or in graduate school?”

“I’m a senior at Boulder. I’m studying at Georgetown for my final year while I’m interning.”

“And what do you plan to do next?”

“Law school, eventually.” She wrinkled her nose. “It sounds boring, doesn’t it?”

“No, not at all. There’s nothing wrong with being a lawyer.” Mrs. McEvoy cocked her head. “Where in Colorado are you from?”

“Silverthorne.”
 

“Oh, really?” Mrs. McEvoy raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow.

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