Authors: Celeste O. Norfleet
“…the brilliant artistry of our honored guest, a man far beyond his years and time. Please join me in welcoming artist, Renaissance man, genius…”
“No wonder you have a big head. Look what she fills it up with,” Nina whispered in a low voice.
“…Oliver Watts.”
Oliver laughed at her remark, then raised his hand as the guests began applauding wildly and he stepped up to take center stage. Nina laughed and shook her head. “Who exactly is that guy?” she asked, joining in the applause around her.
Alyssa smiled and applauded gingerly. In reality, her thoughts were still half a block away, looking into Senator Randolph Kingsley’s eyes. “Good question,” she uttered quietly. “Who exactly is that guy?”
Oliver began talking. As usual, his engaging personality and boyish charm captivated everyone in the room. Nina and the other assembled guests listened intently, but Alyssa had tuned out. She stepped back and excused herself, walked toward the perimeter of the room, then inched her way away from the main gallery.
Standing by the window, she watched pedestrians hurry by on their way to wherever they were going as cars sped toward their destinations. Then, for some reason, her thoughts veered to him, Senator Randolph Kingsley. Where he was going next, what he did to relax, what he watched on television, what he liked to eat, what his childhood was like, if he was seeing anyone.
“Whoa, where did that come from?” she said to herself.
Getting caught up in the excitement of the evening was one thing, but daydreaming about one of the most prominent senators in the country was another. He was an African-American, single, straight male, and she was certain that half the female population—black, white, brown and purple—had designs on him.
She was a nobody, from nowhere and had nothing. So her chances of attracting someone like him were nil at best. Although there was always a chance, it happened, but only in Cinderella fairy tales where the prince would sweep his love off her feet and they’d live happily ever after. Sure, she’d have a slightly good chance only if she was the last female on earth and, even then, she’d be skeptical. Low self-esteem was her best friend, but so was being realistic.
Chapter 2
A
cross the street Senator Randolph Kingsley smiled dutifully, shook hands and joked with the invited guests. His public persona was set on automatic. He did what every U.S. senator did in these settings. He morphed from a political wonk into a personable, energetic, public servant. There was no handbook, just the commonsense notion that one must always respect the office.
Although he might have had a momentary lapse in judgment earlier that evening, no one witnessed it except her, her being Sundari Adia Nomalanga. The name was curious and the flopping name tag was ridiculously humorous. He chuckled to himself and, appropriately enough, timed it perfectly with a local community leader’s joke.
Those around him laughed, as well, giving the local politician exactly what he wanted, center stage. Randolph smiled as a photo was taken and continued basking in the political limelight.
Randolph, to his surprise, had no idea what the flow of conversation was around him because he pretty much stopped paying attention when Sundari left, and that wasn’t like him. He was distracted. Adia, he thought to himself, was indeed a gift from God. She was lovely in an unpretentious way that was natural and unassuming.
Like so many others before, women came in and out of his life constantly, most with aspirations of owning a vineyard in California, a home in the Capitol Hill area and maybe taking permanent residence at the White House, but he was always very selective. Political groupies were like kryptonite. And he avoided them like the plague.
Seeing what obsessively fanatical women had done to political careers in the past had definitely made him cautious. Scented, perfumed, adorned and sexy, they came in an unending procession, all with one goal.
The prize, ever elusive, was the senator at their side. It didn’t matter what had to be done, to whom or how often, the end justified the means and these women meant business.
Of course, he wasn’t a saint; he’d done his share of dating—models, actresses, executives, lawyers, schoolteachers, even a doctor or two. They were all sweet and loving women with plenty to offer, but he just never really clicked with any of them. His heart was never in any real danger, because he knew exactly what each woman wanted.
They were users and he accepted that fact.
His last date was a surgeon who was more into her position at the hospital than him. In a complete turnaround, he was her arm candy, a trophy to be taken out and displayed at opportune times. His prominence in politics and his vineyard in California only added to her prestige. And the fact that he personally knew Matthew Gates, a fixture in business and on several hospital boards, including hers, added to his appeal.
Ambitious to a fault, she had a reputation for single-minded focus. She wanted status and that meant a seat on the hospital board. Once he suggested her name to Matthew for consideration, she all but dumped him. He wasn’t surprised or brokenhearted, and he was easily consoled, since his heart wasn’t attached. Granted, he’d been used and betrayed before.
Once, in college, the captain of the cheerleaders used him to help her pass trigonometry, and then she dumped him after she’d gotten a passing grade. Back then, he decided to lie low as far as romance was concerned. It worked for him then as he focused instead on his studies and future career.
All’s fair in love was his motto now. Pity, the doctor never did win a seat on the board, but she did try to come back into his life, though they both knew it wasn’t going to happen.
Then, like now, he took a brief hiatus from romance. But being who and what he was, rumors floated around the Hill constantly. Who is he sleeping with, who is he dating, who can we match him up with? Everyone wanted in on his life and women called him constantly. They wanted a piece of him, “a just-in-case piece of him,” his half sister, Juliet Bridges, would always say.
Now he prided himself on his discretion. And up until a year ago, he used Juliet, a retired ballet dancer, as his companion for social events. But now that she was married, he went to receptions alone and left alone, with only his assistant at his side. Not exactly how he wanted it, but he accepted that’s how it was, at least, for the time being.
He knew his life lacked something, and only now was he beginning to understand what that something was. Success and achievements were fine, but being alone without someone to share them with was no longer enough.
Lost in his thoughts, he looked around the room. Wealthy, smiling faces greeted him in every direction. Men wanted to give him their business cards. Women wanted to give him their phone numbers. He made it a rule never to accept either, but instead directed them to Kent, who readily filed them—where, he had no idea. This was obviously just another political reception where some lobbyist wanted desperately to hand him an obscene amount of cash for his campaign fund, no strings attached. Yeah, right.
But even with all the nonsense that came along with his position, this was still the best job in the world. True to his dreams from his freshman years, he stayed focused on what he wanted to accomplish. And even though special interests were parked at his door, he made it clear that his vote wasn’t for sale at any price.
Just then, a woman standing across the room caught his attention. He could only see the back of her, but the possibility instantly stirred his imagination. Was it possible? Was it her again? The suit looked similar, but the hair was slightly different. Either way, he couldn’t tell for sure, and she was too far away to get a good look.
Earlier, with a simple touch, she’d gotten his attention like no other woman had. Even now, he smiled thinking of her. Curiosity forced him to walk across the room. He focused on the back of her head and started in that direction. Apparently he’d found what he was searching for. What he needed now was a matchmaker.
“Good evening, Senator.”
A quick chill instantly shot through him. He’d been blindsided. He knew that voice—strong, steady and firm. It was as if he conjured her up. He turned and looked down slightly. She smiled back up at him. He chuckled and shook his head. “I was just thinking about you. Is it my turn?”
Louise Gates smiled. “Whatever are you talking about, Senator Kingsley?”
“Hello, Mamma Lou. You look lovely and enchanting as ever,” he said, then reached down, kissed her cheek and swallowed her up in his arms. She was a most welcome sight.
“Oh, stop, making an old woman blush. Shame on you. But you, look at you, all over the place, on television, in newspapers and magazines. You’re almost impossible to keep up with. I’m so proud of you,” she said, wiping the lipstick from his cheek.
“Thank you, Mamma Lou, where’s…” he began, then paused and waited a second before he held out his hand. “Ah, here he is. Colonel Wheeler, sir, how are you? Good to see you again.”
“Fine, fine, my boy. I would ask how you’re doing but I already know. Very impressive, very impressive.”
“Thank you, Colonel. I try. When did you get into town?”
“Last night. We’re staying with Tony and Madison and the babies,” Colonel Wheeler said.
“How are they?” he asked Louise.
“Oh, everyone’s just fine, busy, they send their love and the twins are adorable, of course,” Louise added.
“I have to get over there, but I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had the time.”
“There’s always time for family,” Louise said.
“You’re absolutely right, Mamma Lou. Are you staying around the capital long?”
“Madison and Tony are taking care of the annual auction at the antique store, so we’re just pitching in to lend a hand.”
“I might just get you two to pitch in and lend a hand on the Hill.” They laughed heartily, knowing that he was doing an excellent job as the newly elected senator from California. “I was just asking Mamma Lou if it was my turn now.”
“And I was just telling the senator that I had no idea what he was talking about,” Mamma Lou said.
Colonel Wheeler chuckled. Randolph looked at him for sympathy. “No, no, I’m sorry, son, nothing I can do. Over the years I’ve been offered bribes, pleaded to, cajoled, sweet-talked and even wheedled, but trust me, nothing works. I am unequivocally and most definitely, out of it. Like so many others before you, you’re on your own.”
“Excuse me, I’d take offense to this conversation if I weren’t such a good sport,” Louise said.
“And we love you for it,” Colonel Wheeler said happily.
“Hear, hear, that surely deserves a toast,” Randolph said, nodding to his assistant, who quickly guided a waiter in their direction. A tray of champagne appeared. Each took a glass. “To Mamma Lou, forever wonderful, and to you, Colonel Otis Wheeler, forever the statesman by her side,” Randolph said.
“And to Senator Randolph Kingsley. Congratulations, son, a fine career, we are all very proud of your success,” Colonel Wheeler added.
“And to love,” Louise said quickly as the men were poised to sip. Colonel Wheeler just cleared his throat and chuckled, always half expecting something from his special love. But Randolph nearly choked, sputtering as he took a small sip.
Randolph laughed heartily and Colonel Wheeler joined in. “So, Mamma Lou, have you chosen her yet?”
“Who, dear?”
“My future wife.”
“No, have you?” she asked. A spark lit in his eyes and gave her his answer. “You have, haven’t you?”
“I didn’t say that,” Randolph said.
“Of course you didn’t.” She smiled. “You didn’t have to, dear. It’s all over your face.”
“How does she do it?” Randolph asked Colonel Wheeler.
Colonel Wheeler shook his head. “I’m just an innocent bystander, not even here.”
“Sir, we have one more reception after this,” his assistant said quietly.
“Yes, right.” Randolph turned to Louise and Otis. “As always, it’s been a pleasure. Please stop by the office if you’re gonna be in town for a while. I’d love to take some time and show you around.”
“We’d love to. Thank you,” Louise said, holding her face over as he kissed her cheek again.
“Take care, son. Don’t let ’em rattle you too much,” Colonel Wheeler added.
“I’ll try not to,” Randolph said, shaking hands. He nodded and started toward the exit as his assistant led the way. Moments later, through a crowd of fond farewells, he was on his way out the door.
“That’s a man who is going to go far in this town,” Otis said assuredly. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“Indeed, and as we all know, two heads are always better than one,” Louise added.
Colonel Wheeler chuckled, then laughed. There was no stopping her, and not having received an out-and-out refusal from Randolph, his special love was already busy planning.
“The car’s out front. This way, sir,” Kent said.
Randolph followed.
The rain had stopped, but the air was still muggy and the sky was sluggish to let go of its drizzle. Randolph looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. It wasn’t the sweet scent of his vineyard home outside San Francisco, but the air was fresh and clean and it felt good to be out, at least for a bit.
Thankfully work waited for him, filling the empty hours before he’d finally fall asleep alone every night. Quietly, that’s how he rolled, keeping a low profile and trying to remain out of the headlines as much as possible. In D.C., it was the best thing to do.
Walking down the steps, he looked up, and saw the art gallery across the street. He remembered thinking earlier about stopping in if time permitted. Of course, it never did. He watched as a small group of passersby hurried inside. That’s when he spotted her, Adia, standing at the window staring across the street.
She was looking at him and his body reacted with an intensity he’d never before experienced. From the instant he saw her, she affected him like no one else ever did.
Caution might have told him that he’d picked up yet another ardent admirer, but his instincts said otherwise. He smiled and again considered a quick run across the street. Then just as the thought began to rest comfortably…