Valentine Vote (8 page)

“Sweetie, you gotta live a little! Stop trying to anticipate all the things that could happen and get out there and see what
does
happen, huh?” Helen nudged her thigh.

She let out a heavy sigh. “I know you're right. I guess. Okay, I'll try.”

“Hey, you know what they say: Do or do not. There is no try.”

She opened one eye and squinted at Helen. “Eleanor Roosevelt again?”

Her roommate shook her head. “Yoda.” She ducked just in time to miss the throw pillow Courtney launched at her grinning face.

• • •

Eric drummed his pencil on his desk blotter. What did she want from him? Hell, what did he want from her? Friendship was out of the question. If they didn't end up lovers, they couldn't be friends. The tobacco issue had seen to that. And if she held out any hope of convincing him, she'd be sorely disappointed. No, they couldn't be friends, and after the upcoming vote on Valentine's Day, they might not make it as lovers either.

When he'd kissed her, the world stood still. All that mattered was Courtney in his arms. And it wasn't enough. He wanted to be inside her, to be the first man in her life, but he was at odds with her innocence versus her awkward attempts at dirty talk. Did that stuff really turn her on or did she think that's what he wanted to hear?

He'd tried to keep the evening light. He was afraid of becoming aroused and then going too fast if she wasn't ready. Maybe she'd stopped him because she was worried they'd get too rough—like he'd ever done that. But perhaps she thought he had. She probably assumed he took the riding crop out of the frame in his office so he could ride an occasional lobbyist or two. But his collection of what she thought was fantasy equipment was just that … a collection, not all that different from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles he collected growing up.

Would he want to spank Courtney? The thought of her naked across his knee maybe held a certain appeal, but seriously, he'd rather just be with her, holding hands in the park, eating popcorn at the movies, taking Travis to a ballgame. He shook his head, hoping to clear his confusion. This continuous loop was getting him nowhere.

If he were smart, he'd give Courtney some space. That way she could figure out what she wanted. And he could, too.

• • •

Courtney didn't hear from Eric for a week. Though she was busier than she'd ever been, he constantly invaded her thoughts. It was that kiss. Why did she torture herself, reliving his lips on hers, the sensuous way he'd eased his arm around her and pulled her close, the taste of him mingled with his scent of spice and woods after their day at Manassas. She shook her head, trying to clear the image of how sexy and dark his eyes were when their kiss ended, staring at each other, their breathing shallow with yearning.

Trying to forget about him, she threw herself into securing the last few votes she needed for the tobacco tax. It was going to be dangerously close. Commitments from senators in Arkansas and Oklahoma were solid, but Florida and South Carolina could go either way, and without Eric's vote, the bill was in serious jeopardy. But she wouldn't try to convince him again. He'd dug in his heels, and in her objective moments, which were few where he was concerned, she could even understand his point.

That afternoon, she heard Bill clipping down the hall in his Gucci loafers and waved him into her office when he rounded the corner. “What's your count?” he asked.

“I'm close. I'll visit with Arkansas and Oklahoma again today. Senator Flutie from Arkansas is hot on the pig farmers' bill, and he's been trying to trade votes with Virginia and North Carolina. He told Senator Morrison he'd support price election on tobacco if Morrison backed him on the pigs.”

“Besides price election, what are Morrison's hot buttons?” Bill loosened his tie and took the chair opposite Courtney's desk.

“He likes the non-profit bill with the stipends for Special Olympics. That's a tough one because there are some organizations bundled with that bill that support lesbians and gays, and some of the more conservative senators won't support it. It's a shame because several of those non-profits are focused on bullying in schools.” Courtney chewed on a fingernail, and then slapped her hand away. She almost had nails now, but the stress of this week had her reverting to old habits. “He could probably get a few price election votes from conservative senators if he voted against the non-profit bill, but I don't think he'd do that.” Courtney couldn't help but smile—and sigh. “He's too principled.”

“You like this guy?” Bill's eyebrows shot up.

Courtney sucked in her lips, wiping away her smile. “I was skeptical that all his do-goodness was for show, but he's for real. Yeah, I like him.”

Bill nodded, shrewd eyes sizing her up. “Just be careful. Hook-ups like that can derail a career. If the media saw you two cozied up somewhere and Morrison ended up voting for the tobacco tax, his constituents would crucify him. He'd never get re-elected.”

Her scalp prickled with the heat of embarrassment. She'd been so busy sabotaging any hope of intimacy with Eric, she hadn't considered either of their careers—another indication that her brain wasn't working on all cylinders. So, to get back to Bill's warning, a hook-up was probably a moot point. “Don't worry about that—on two counts. I doubt he'll change his vote on the tobacco tax, and I don't think I'll be seeing him again.”

Bill pushed himself out of the chair, tightened his tie. “That's for the best. Want a recipe for disaster? Pair a lobbyist with a legislator.” His cell phone chirped, and he answered it as he walked out of Courtney's office.

She stared at the door after he left. A dull ache settled in her heart. He was right.

• • •

In an effort to cheer Courtney up, Helen insisted they go to a Wizards basketball game on Sunday. The cheering fans might boost her spirits. Besides, she liked the draft beer and popcorn. She'd treat herself to a big pretzel, too.

The weather had returned to frozen tundra, which somehow made Courtney recall the unseasonal day she'd shared with Eric and Travis at Manassas. Scratch that. Someday, she might be able to look back and remember that outing with a smile, but now, the stab of pain brought tears to her eyes.

Courtney and Helen took the metro to Verizon Center. They were both bundled in more layers than they could count, and when they got to their seats in the nosebleed section, they were glad to find a few empty seats for piling their coats, vests, and scarves.

“I just lost twenty pounds,” Helen said as she topped the pile with her wool cap.

Courtney laughed and reached in her purse for her binoculars. She liked watching the cheerleader routines before the game started. She flashed back to her high school football games. She'd played the tuba in the band. She remembered standing on the sidelines, watching the cheerleaders hug the football players after the game. What if she'd gone to school with Eric? He would have been one of the football players, probably team captain. But of course, she wasn't a cheerleader. She was the tuba nerd, and though she looked fashionable now on the outside, she was still a geek inside—the geek entranced with the football player, Eric.

Really, this obsession was getting old. She had to move on. “Let's get a pretzel.” Courtney bounded out of her seat and grabbed Helen's elbow.

“Already?” Helen brushed off Courtney's hand. “Let me sit for a while. We can get a pretzel at the half. That way, it's like a reward.”

“You need a reward to watch basketball?”

“I need a reward for braving this weather, and by half-time, I'll be thinking about bundling up again. The pretzel and a beer will keep my mind off the icicles I'll have to chip off my nose.”

“Okay, I get that logic—sort of.” Courtney sat down.

From the buzzer that signaled the game's start, the players shot back and forth on the court like racehorses. Maybe they were chilly and had to get their blood pumping, but whatever the reason, the scoreboard could barely keep up with the points … on both sides. Courtney and Helen were out of their seats cheering with the rest of the hyped-up Washington crowd.

“And who said you can't get exercise as a spectator?” Helen asked. “My thighs are burning from all the up and down.”

The two women started making their way to the concessions just before the bell sounded for first half. The Wizards were beating the Orlando Magic by two points.

Standing in the pretzel line while Helen got the beers, Courtney breathed in the mouth-watering aroma of pretzels, popcorn, and hot dogs, and then she felt a tug on her jean pocket. She turned, and her heart leapt when she looked down into Travis's brown eyes.

“Like my grill?” He smiled up at her, displaying new braces.

He must be here with Eric. Thud. “Very nice, and I like the red and black accents.”
And I wish my stomach would stop churning.

“They're my school colors. Cool, huh?”

She wanted to look around for Eric in the worst way, but she forced her eyes to stay focused on Travis. “I had braces, too, but not until I was in college. You're smart to get them while you're young. And they really are cool.”

“Eric got 'em for me.”

She heard his hello before she saw him. When she looked up, he smiled warmly. “I didn't know you were a basketball fan.” He handed a Coke to Travis.

“Well, I figure I should support the home team.” She smiled back.

“As a Floridian, I'm surprised you're not rooting for the Magic.” His eyes grew dark and sexy as he looked at her.

Courtney's knees trembled. “No, I'm a Wizard through-and-through.”

Travis poked her in the ribs. “Move up or somebody'll butt in line.” He looked back and forth between Eric and Courtney. “You two are gettin' googly-eyed, and I don't wanna miss the second half. Can we get a pretzel, please?”

Eric laughed. “Sure, buddy.”

Courtney was next in line, but Eric came forward and bought pretzels for her and Helen, as well as for Travis and himself. He handed her the pretzels and then motioned toward the condiment bar, where they squirted mustard into little plastic cups.

Eric tore off a piece of his pretzel and dunked it in the mustard, leaving a smudge of yellow on his lip when he took a bite. Courtney wanted to lick it off.

“Look who's here.” Helen walked up and handed Courtney a beer.

Courtney ran her tongue over her lips, hoping to give Eric the hint about the glob of mustard. Instead, he simply stared at her lips.

“Oh, geez, you guys. Just kiss her and get it over with,” Travis said. “The game's about to start.”

“You've got a …” Courtney reached up and touched Eric's lip. She swiped the mustard off and then licked her finger.

Eric grabbed her arm and pulled her close. Her beer sloshed over the rim.

She looked up into his gorgeous eyes.

With his lips close to hers, he murmured, “Lady, you're driving me crazy.”

Just before their lips met, a flash blinded her, and she realized a photographer had just snapped them. She squinted at his press badge but was only able to read
Washington Tattler
at the top, not his name, before he scurried off into the crowd.

“I guess we'll be the talk of the town tomorrow,” Eric said.

Courtney thought he looked remarkably calm … under the circumstances. “I'm sure the headline will be a shocker,” Courtney said. She pressed a hand to her chest to still her racing heart. And then her brain kicked in. Again, she hadn't been firing on all cylinders. She'd just told her boss that Eric was
persona non grata
. She'd have to add “lack of credibility” to her growing list of character flaws. “If they call us an item, they'll be off base.”

“That's a shame. I'd like to be your item.”

Courtney sucked in her cheeks to suppress a smile. But it didn't work. She felt her eyes crinkle and her lips turned up. “What if they used the word ‘romance'?”

“That's even better.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

Courtney wanted to leap back into his arms. She took a deep breath and blew it out.
All right, I let my heart rule my head, and you know what, I feel like shouting it to the world.
Maybe being with Eric isn't the smartest decision, and yeah, I'm scared, but for once, I let my heart decide.
“Well, I guess we'll know what they call it when we read tomorrow's headlines.”

Travis stepped between them and tugged on Eric's sleeve. “Come on. They blew the whistle. Let's go.”

Eric ruffled Travis's shaggy mop of hair. “Okay, buddy.” He looked at Courtney before he turned. “I'll call you.”

The next morning, Courtney and Eric were front page above the fold in the
Washington Tattler
. Given that the photographer must have barely made the deadline, there was no story. Just a caption that read, “Is There Romance in the Air for Senator Morrison?” Courtney moaned when Helen poked her shoulder and slapped the paper on the kitchen counter.

“Nice work. Looks like you're getting ready to suck his face off.” Helen chuckled.

Courtney hunched over the counter and clunked her head on the butcher block top. Ouch. “My boss is going to kill me.”

“That's your first thought? Gee, if it were me I'd be thinking about how to parlay this story into a million-dollar book deal.” Helen patted Courtney's back. “Look at the bright side, Champion will probably take you off the account. Then you won't have to worry about public exposure. You can just date Mr. Wonderful in the open.”

Courtney straightened. She rubbed her brow. “I don't want to give up this account.”

“In that case … ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Goodbye, Eric Morrison.” Courtney opened the refrigerator door and stared at the orange juice. She shut the door when her cell phone rang. Her first thought was that the caller was a reporter, but then she saw the i.d. It was Eric. Panic stricken, she dropped the phone, which bounced off the linoleum … in two pieces.