A Political Affair (33 page)

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Authors: Mary Whitney

BOOK: A Political Affair
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“I can see how it would be fun for him.” She nodded. “And having him and his wife there makes it more respectable. They’re sort of like substitute parents and grandparents all rolled into one.”

“Our parents may be a little more forgiving with them there.”

“So . . . when, then? When do we do this? And how?” She gave his arm a playful squeeze.

“I think if you decide to elope, you do it as soon as possible, don’t you?” He kissed her cheek and grinned.

“I think you’re right.” She laughed.

“Well, before we do anything, we should contact Phillip. We’ll need help with logistics so we can keep this quiet.”

“Isn’t he your family lawyer? Won’t he tell the rest of your family?”

“No. I’ll make sure he knows he’s only representing me. He helps all of us out individually from time to time.”

“How can he help with logistics? He’s here, isn’t he?”

“He comes to D.C. occasionally when he has to. The first thing we need is a marriage license. West Virginia has a three-day waiting period.”

She didn’t comment on his preparedness this time, except to shake her head and smile.
 

“I told you back in December that I had done some research,” he said with a smirk. “I should be less conspicuous in West Virginia than in Colorado, though we still need to get in and out of the courthouse separately, unseen, and unnoticed. I’ll get Phillip working on that. Maybe the Judge can help with finding the least nosy county clerk.”

“Do we have time? You’re leaving tomorrow, and I’m not flying back until Monday.”

“That’s okay. We’ll visit West Virginia on Tuesday, get home to D.C., wait our three days, and get married on Saturday.” He smiled. “At least the three days gives me some time to get things planned and you to get your dress.”

“I suppose I need to find a white dress.” She looked down, but there was excitement in her eyes.

“Wear whatever you want. You’ll be beautiful no matter what.”
 

She gave him another quick kiss. “I’ll make sure my dress is appropriate for something outside in the summer.”

“What about wedding rings?”

She touched her new ring and smiled. “I think something simple is fine.”

“Okay. I’ll work with Phillip on getting the bands and anything else we need.”

“This seems far beyond the average family attorney’s role.”

“It is, but he’s used to it. Don’t worry. He’s well compensated and never complains. We trust him implicitly.”

“So after the wedding, we’ll stay the night at the cabin?”
 

He kissed her hair and wrapped his arms around her. “Out in the country
 . . .
under the stars . . . I can’t think of a better honeymoon.”

“I can’t either.” She smiled and kissed his neck.

“Then in the morning . . . we’ll drive back to D.C. to tell our families.”

“Drive back in the same car?”
 

“Absolutely.” He grinned. “We’ll be husband and wife. Who cares?”

On Tuesday morning, Anne walked into the Pocahontas County Clerk’s Office in West Virginia. Looking like just another resident of the county, Stephen stood to the side, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans and reading the local paper. He lifted his eyes to Anne’s and smiled. “My bride has arrived.”

She scanned the room to see if anyone noticed them, but the other two people in the room paid them no attention. She walked the few steps to Stephen. “And here’s my groom.”

“How was the trip out here?”

“Fine.” She kissed his cheek. “Actually,” she whispered, “a little odd. Phillip had me take three different Metro lines just to get to Metro Center. I eventually met him inside the Marriott parking garage. It felt like a scene out of
All the President’s Men
.”

“I drove myself, but Phillip made me take a similar route to get to the rental car—minus the Metro, though.”

“Yeah. You taking the Metro would be a sure sign you were up to no good.”

A familiar West Virginia brogue made them turn their heads. Judge Clements held a door open. “Stevie, Anne, I see you’re ready for Shirley now. She’ll take care of you.”

The following evening Walter checked in with the private investigation firm, Zells and Dottham, to see how the work on Stephen McEvoy was coming along. “Anything new for me?” he asked as he multitasked and scanned the headlines of
The Washington Times
.

Mr. Zells was apologetic. “A little, but nothing concrete. We haven’t been able to conclusively get Anne Norwood and McEvoy in the same place, but we have some circumstantial evidence.”

“Okay,” Walter muttered, unimpressed. “Start at the top.”
 

“For starters, we know Jennifer Hamilton is out of the picture. We couldn’t get anything out of her management, so we tracked her down—she was walking out of a bar in L.A. Our guy asked her if she was dating McEvoy. Apparently, she giggled a lot and said they were quote ‘still good friends’ end quote. Then she ran off with that guy from
Raptorman
.”

“What else?”

“Well, we almost caught Anne Norwood going to his family’s ranch.”

“What do you mean almost?”

“Our guy followed her as far as he could down a county road, but she turned onto an ungraded road with a lot of rocks. He needed a four-wheel-drive truck with high clearance and he wasn’t in one. She was in a jeep. Anyway, we know it’s a back route to the McEvoy ranch.”

Walter shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Plan ahead next time, okay?”

“Well, they’re back in D.C. now. She landed at Dulles yesterday, but today we can’t find either of them. They’re nowhere.”
 

Walter’s ears perked up. “You lost them? At the same time? That’s curious.”

“I suppose.”

“Does she have roommates?”

“She lives alone in a basement apartment.”

“Well, someone knows where she is,” Walter said, flipping through the paper. “She’s a twenty-two-year-old girl. She has to have friends who gossip.”

“One would think. We’ll work on the other interns in his office.”

“Fine. Get cracking. In the meantime, I’m going to see what I can find.”

“Really? Who are you going to talk to?”

Thinking about a recent, steamy night in Palm Beach with Helen Sanders, Walter’s reply was nonchalant. “Oh, a lady friend of mine. Let’s just say she’s got a read on the men in the Senate.”

On Saturday morning, Phillip dropped Anne off at the McEvoy cabin before he went over to Judge Clements’s place to report her arrival. Anne poked her head inside the front door. “Hello?”

Laura York’s voice came from inside the house. “Hello, Anne! Come inside. Don’t worry. It’s just us girls.”

As Anne walked in, she noticed the difference in the rooms. Flowers were everywhere. The dining room was properly set for a romantic dinner for two. She looked out the French doors onto the patio, and another table with six places was set for what looked to be a post-wedding brunch. Inside the kitchen, she found Laura with an apron around her waist and her attention on the stove.

“Good morning,” Laura greeted with her soft, southern lilt. “It’s so nice to see you again and on such a happy occasion.”

“Yes, it’s good to see you, too, but Laura, this is too much. Thank you. Really, you’re incredibly kind, but—”

“No buts. This is fun, and Lillian wouldn’t forgive me if I left this day up to Stephen.”

“But Laura . . .”

“Please. It’s my pleasure. Stephen asked me to get some flowers for the place. I just happened to think of a few other things.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Now all of your things are laid out in the first bedroom on the right. I steamed your dress. It’s gorgeous, by the way—and perfect for a hot day like today. It will look lovely in your wedding announcement in the
New York Times
.”

“Thank you. I love it, too.” Checking her watch, Anne calculated her time to primp. “I’ve got an hour, right?”

“I’m guessing you want to wear your hair up. I can get you a few flowers if you want . . . maybe something blue?”

Anne tried not to smirk as she thought of the racy blue panties she bought to wear beneath her dress. “Thank you. Flowers would be nice. Actually, I think I’ve got everything else—old earrings, new dress . . . um . . . something blue. I’m just missing the borrowed part.”

“I thought that might be the case.” Reaching her hand into the pocket of her pink linen dress, Laura pulled out an embroidered handkerchief. “I’ve got a hankie for you.”

“You’re amazing. You’ve thought of everything.”

“If I haven’t, I will by the ceremony. Grayson wouldn’t be a senator without me thinking ahead his entire career.”

“That’s usually the case, isn’t it?” Anne chuckled.

“Yes, ma’am.” Laura smiled. “Now go get changed. You don’t want to be late to your own wedding.”

When it came time for the nuptials, Anne waited for Laura to situate everyone on the lawn. Only a few steps across the patio separated the house from the lawn and its blooming wildflowers. Her nervousness vanished into a grin when she saw Stephen catch his breath and smile at the sight of her. She thought him dashing in his casual suit, sans tie, but with a matching red rose to her bouquet.

Judge Clements stood in the center with Buster at his heel; off to the side stood Grayson and Laura. They all beamed as Anne walked toward them. Performing his role as the behind-the-scenes man, Phillip stood in the background with a camera, though also with a smile on his face.

The actual ceremony was short, legal, and very sweet. The standard civil ceremony had few words, but Anne watched as the enormity of the event swept over Stephen, and she felt the same. Savoring every second, their eyes never left one another. The marriage didn’t feel rushed or forced, rather the natural next step in their relationship. He couldn’t have said his vows with more enthusiasm and determination, and Anne recited hers intently with misty eyes. When the time came to seal the marriage, Stephen pulled her close and she placed both hands on his face; they shared a loving kiss.

After a round of applause, Phillip took a series of photos depicting a respectable, romantic, and, above all, official wedding. The six then sat down to Laura’s elaborate brunch.

“You know, Phillip,” commented Judge Clements as he snuck a piece of ham for Buster. “I’ve never known an attorney to provide so many services to his client. You’re a combination attorney, photographer, chauffeur, personal shopper, and spy. I’m sure I’m missing something.”

“I have a varied practice.” Phillip was known for his economy of speech. He cleared his throat. “I hate to break up the festivities, but we need to talk about an unlikely, but possible, situation. I want to make sure everyone here is on the same page if the press is tipped off before we choose to contact them.”

“Well, I’d prefer it if no one commented until we tell our families,” said Stephen as he looked around the table.

“That’s very understandable. As a mother, I’d like the courtesy,” said Laura with a nod, but her tone changed to one of warning. “But I also think if the press calls before you’re ready, either Judge Clements or Grayson should make a statement.”

“Hell, yeah,” Judge Clements muttered. “I’m talking if asked—only if asked, mind you—but I’m talking. I always give my opinion.”

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