A Political Affair (7 page)

Later in the day, Stephen told Megan only the bare facts about his plan to tutor the interns on the LSAT.
 

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I guess there’s nothing wrong with it. It is for a group. And frankly, after the last few weeks, your whole staff could use some more kindness and conversation from you.”

Stephen had to agree. He knew he’d been a jerk to his staff. They were all dedicated and hard workers who deserved better. “You’re right.” He decided to press her further. “But what if I wanted to spend some time with one person going over things a little more?”

“Pfft. You’re relentless.” Megan snickered. “I’d say the door needs to be wide open at all times, and the rest of your staff needs similar access to you.”

He frowned in silence. It wasn’t very appealing.
 

“It’s hard seeing you so unhappy,” she said with a sigh. “You like her, don’t you?”

Her eyes held such sympathy he looked down and shrugged. After a moment, he mumbled, “It doesn’t matter.”
 

“I want to help, Stephen, but I’ve got to walk a line here,” she said as she crossed her arms. “Maybe you could talk privately if someone else was nearby . . . Patty or Greg or me, for example. It might be okay.”

“I like that idea . . . a lot . . . with the exception of Patty.” He grinned.

“Well, you know I’m going to tell Patty.”

“Okay,” he grumbled.
 

“And I hate reminding you, but no intimate talks with whoever it is you plan on talking to.” She smirked for a second, but her voice became serious. “And no physical contact.”

“Thanks for bringing me down to Earth,” he muttered. After a moment, he looked up with a change of heart and smiled. “But thanks for helping me out, also. I’ll let you know when I need you.”

Chapter 5

When Anne arrived home that evening, she called her father to tell him about her run-in with Langford.
 

   
“Anne,” Elton responded in his booming voice. “Didn’t I tell you that you’d get a lot of questions if you worked for McEvoy?”

“I know, and they’ve been easy to handle up ’til now.” She frowned and nestled into the pillows on her bed. “I just never expected to talk to Langford.”

“Well, politics is a small world.”

“He said he was going to have a word with you.”

“Why? He’s going to call me because my daughter is interning for a Democrat?”

“That and—”

“He needs to be worrying about his poll numbers, not you.”

“That’s true.” She laughed at her father’s keen ability to prioritize life’s problems.
 

“He can go right ahead and call. I’ll defend my daughter’s right to make her own decisions. How else are you going to grow up if your mother and I hover over you?”

“Well, Mark and I appreciate you for it,” she said, referring to her brother, who’d also benefited from their parents’ long leash. “But aren’t you worried you may hear about it from other people in the party?”

“No. I’ve been in office for twenty years. What are they going to do? Give me a primary challenger over my daughter’s internship?”

“I guess not. I’ve got to say I was surprised Langford was so rude to me.”

“Oh, that’s his way,” he said dismissively. “Even for a politician, he’s not good at hearing things he doesn’t like.”

“He was pretty offensive. He said the McEvoys weren’t decent people, and he brought up Patty McEvoy being a lesbian.” She knew that would get a rise out of her father. His beloved sister, Aunt Jean, had a longtime companion.
 

“Typical,” he muttered, disgust clear in his tone. “Why does he care?”

“I don’t know. He also said Megan McEvoy was married to a foreigner.”

“She is?”

“No. He’s just Hispanic.”

“He better not say anything that stupid on the campaign trail.”

“I agree.” Knowing she had to tell him the worst part, she winced. “And he told me I’m—and I quote—‘unsafe’ in Senator McEvoy’s office because of his reputation with women.”

“Unsafe? What does he think is going to happen to you? McEvoy will attack you?”

“I told him I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” he said with pride. “And Langford better not be thinking he’s going to win this election simply because Stephen McEvoy gets around. Hell, I didn’t agree with his dad very often, but Patrick McEvoy was a decent man and a smart politician. His son seems to be the same. He’s not going to chase after women in his office, especially when he’s trying to get reelected.”

“Yeah,” she said with a small sigh. She hated having to admit he was right. “From what I know of him, I don’t think he would either.”
 

The following Thursday night, Senator McEvoy’s secretary ushered the group of interns toward his open door and announced, “He wants to see everyone in his office first.”
 

“I’m stoked. It’s really cool that he’s doing this.” Keith grinned before whispering in Anne’s ear, “Especially considering what an asshole he’s been to everybody lately.”

“Well, at this point, I’ll take any help I can get.” She refrained from agreeing the senator had been a jerk.

As the four interns took their seats, Keith babbled away about the test while Anne’s eyes wandered once again around the beautiful office. The antique furniture didn’t appear to be the standard, government-issued office suite; she guessed it had belonged to Patrick McEvoy at one time. The expansive bookshelves held hundreds of books, and crammed in between The Almanac of American Politics and Black’s Law Dictionary sat a tattered copy of Wallace Stegner’s Angle of Repose. She loved that book. She wondered if the senator had read it or if it was a leftover from his father, like the furniture and Ansel Adams photos.
 

An arrangement of smaller color prints that hung off to the side of the bookshelf caught her eye. She wished she could walk over and see them because she thought she recognized some of the places in the images. She had a hunch he’d taken them himself, and at that moment, she felt like her heart was sighing—he’s such an interesting person.
 

As he walked in, rolling up his sleeves, Stephen greeted the room, “Thanks so much for staying late today and indulging me.”
 

The interns all returned the thanks, saying he was indulging them.
 

When he sat down, he asked each of them about their interest in law school and any worries they had with the test.
 

Anne listened to her peers’ answers, but she was more intent on staring at the senator’s arms. Even from his forearms, she could tell he was muscular, and the black hair on his arms matched the hair on his head. She abruptly looked away when it occurred to her that black was probably his hair color everywhere.

While the other interns answered his questions, Stephen listened to their answers, but occasionally glanced at Anne. He couldn’t catch her eye, though, because she seemed to stare at something behind him. He decided it would be too obvious if he turned around and looked. When it was her turn, he finally saw her hazel eyes again.
 

“So, Anne, what’s your interest in law school? Are you like Keith, looking to avoid job hunting during a global economic crisis?”

“That wasn’t my reason, but since he mentioned it, I think it’s a pretty good one.”
 

“Yes, it is.” He chuckled. “So what was your original reason?”

“I’m interested in environmental law. Growing up in the country, I’ve seen how much it’s changed—how much has been lost. I want to do what I can to preserve what’s left.”

Stephen nodded, but he questioned himself whether or not the study session was a good idea. Her answer made him want to talk to her alone for the rest of the night.
 

He wondered if she had any idea how much they shared in common. She must have seen the Ansel Adams artwork he had taken from the family collection in Denver. Did she notice his own photography of the places he loved? Did she know what she said was important to him, too? He grumbled to himself that she probably knew nothing about him; he hoped he could find a moment to speak with her in private.

His study hall went as he planned. Just as he had promised Megan, he gave every intern an equal amount of attention, though he joked a bit more with Anne. After the session ended, the interns scattered in different directions for the evening. Only Anne and Keith followed him out of the room. Keith began texting his girlfriend as they walked and soon fell behind, which left Anne and Stephen walking alone.
 

Grasping for conversation to avoid an awkward silence, Stephen was about to ask her the date of the LSAT when she spoke first. “I saw the photography in your office. The Ansel Adams photographs are amazing, but what are the color prints? They looked familiar.”

“I took them.” A satisfied smile crossed his face. He couldn’t believe his luck. “They’re places I like to go. When I look at them, it takes my mind off work.”
 

Remembering Megan sat in her office, Stephen took a leap of faith. “I can show them to you, if you like.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said with a hesitant smile. “That would be great.”

As they approached the cubicles, Keith grabbed his bag. “I’m out of here,” he said with his phone pressed against his ear. “See you tomorrow.”

Anne told him good-bye and dropped off her notebook while Stephen walked down to Megan’s office to alert her. In a voice low enough so Anne couldn’t hear, he interrupted Megan’s typing. “Anne asked about my photography. We’ll be in my office.”

“Okay.” Her simple answer carried a stern admonishment, but he smiled and left her office door wide open.

As Anne walked into his office, he was checking messages on his cell phone. The butterflies in her stomach left her not knowing what to do, so she examined his photographs. They varied in size and composition, but were all images of places she either knew or had a pretty good idea where they might be. She concentrated on identifying landmarks in the photos, trying to place them.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She startled at his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a soothing tone. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice wasn’t the only surprise; he also stood closer than before.
 

She decided to take a half step away for some breathing room. Even at that distance, she noticed the pleasing smell of soap. “It’s okay. I’m not scared,” she said with a smile. “I was just figuring out which photos I knew and which I didn’t.”

“And?”

“Well, this one is definitely Willow Lake. I’ve been there many times.”

“You’re right. Good eye.”

“Thanks,” she said in a soft voice. Even the smallest compliment from him made her happy. She wanted to know more. “What were you doing there when you took this photo? My dad hunts around there.”

“I was on a long backpacking trip. Do you backpack?”

“Not very often.” She shrugged. “I don’t like death marches.”

“I don’t either. I’d rather find a couple of spots along the way, camp for a few days, and then take day hikes. I don’t like lugging my gear all the time.”

“That’s why I go out on my horse. He carries everything, so when I find a nice spot, I’ve got everything I need.”

“Who do you go horse camping with?”
 

“I don’t know. Friends. My brother. Sometimes I go alone.”

“Really? You do overnights by yourself? Not that many women go out alone.”
 

“Ah, but it doesn’t feel like I’m alone if I’m with my horse.”
 

“Good point.”

“The only problem being without other people is I feel weird sleeping outside. You’re so exposed. I sleep in my tent, which I don’t like because I get claustrophobic. I’d rather sleep under the stars.”

“I would, too.”
 

She tried to imagine him grungy from camping. He had a heavy five o’clock shadow, and she thought he’d have a full beard after only a few days away from a razor. He’d be an interesting person to talk with on a hike, especially during her favorite time when only the moon and stars shed light. He might be a different person out there—more like the one standing with her at that moment, rather than the hurried one in the office. She thought of being together outside, and she looked away as her eyes widened. Lots of nudity in the good old outdoors. Lots of time with nothing to do.
 

“But you probably don’t get out much,” she blurted out to clear her thoughts.
 

“I don’t.” He sounded wistful. “I can do day hikes here and there and go out for a night occasionally, but I only get a week in August to take a longer trip. Not next year, though.”

“Oh, the campaign.”

“Right.”

“Well, it means you’ll have a job for the next six years,” she joked. “That’s important.”

“Good way of looking at it.” He smiled and nodded at the photographs. “So what do you do out there?”

“Well, when I was little I’d play in the water, chase frogs, or play hide and seek with my brother, things like that. Now I find a rock to sit on and read. It’s probably one of the things that turned me into a bookworm.”