When Love Calls (5 page)

She ducked low beside a desk, crouched over and spotted her purse containing her vile of pepper spray, her stun gun and cell phone. It was also too far away. Hearing footfalls coming in toward the rear where she was hiding, she reached up, grabbed the phone on the desk, pulled it down and dialed emergency.

“Hello, anybody here?” the voice said.

“Send help,” she whispered into the receiver, then gave the address.

“The phone line is lit. I know somebody’s here, so please just come out. I’m not going to hurt you, trust me please.”

Alyssa frowned. How many burglars, murderers, rapists or thieves said please? “I have a gun, don’t move,” she shouted.

“Okay, I won’t,” he said calmly.

“I’m gonna give you one chance. Get out of here now. I already called for help and I don’t want to shoot you.”

“Well, that’s good because I really don’t want to get shot,” he said.

Alyssa frowned again. Either the dregs of society were getting friendlier or she was talking to…She stood up quickly, hoping to startle him. She didn’t. He stood in the doorway still in the shadows. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Adia?”

“Your name is Adia?” she asked.

“No, not me, you. Adia, Sundari Adia, is that you?”

“Senator Kingsley?”

“Yes, may I?” he asked, then took a step farther into the back area.

“What are you doing here?”

“I believe you mentioned something about wanting to meet with me. Well, here I am,” he said, smiling and oozing charm. “Actually I just happened to be passing by and saw the gate up and the lights on in the back, and since the front door was unlocked and open…”

“Crap, I forgot to lock the door again?”

“Again. Not exactly smart this late at night.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. But I thought you had another reception to attend this evening.”

He smiled. “Why, Ms. Nomalanga, it seems you know my itinerary better than I do.”

“Not me, really. Actually it was my friend, coworker, really. We work together. We kind of snuck in before, but we were doing it with the best of intentions. I can’t really explain, but—I know this sounds strange. Oh, never mind. I give up. Whatever I say is gonna come out sounding like I’m a stalker.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“Am I what?”

“A stalker,” he said.

“No, no, no, of course not. It’s just that I work here at the Foundation for Senior-Citizen Reform and I needed to talk to you, since you’re on the Senate Special Committee for the Aging. We, the foundation, don’t have the major funding that some of the larger lobbying firms have, but we have persistence and drive and a very serious cause.”

“You’re a lobbyist?” he asked more seriously.

“Me, no, not exactly, I’m in-house support.”

“Even so, I presume you know my stance on lobbyists and special interest.”

“Yes, I do, but this is different.”

“It’s never different, Ms. Nomalanga,” he said, taking a step back to walk away.

“No, please wait, don’t go.” She hurried over, reached out and grabbed his arm, then instantly released him as he turned back to her.

“So everything this evening was so that you could talk to me about senior-citizen reform?” he asked.

“Basically, yes,” she said, taking a decidedly professional stance. “I borrowed the invitation and crashed the private reception.”

“That’s a very gusty move just to talk with me.”

“It’s for a good cause. And as for the other part, I didn’t intend to spill a drink on your tie and call you a jerk and poke you in the ribs, but yes, I went to the reception to talk to you.”

“That’s too bad,” he said.

“Why is that?”

“I thought maybe…” He paused, almost blushed, then looked away. “Never mind, my mistake. I’ll tell you what. If you have a proposal, I’ll be happy to have a member of my staff look it over.”

“Your staff.”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“No,” she said, then, “Well, yes.”

“Which is it, no or yes?”

“I may be relatively new at this person-to-person lobbying thing, but I do know politicians and they very seldom seriously entertain what their staff rejects and I can’t take that chance.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really, this is important and one of these days, you’re gonna be old and you’re gonna want somebody to fight for you, and if you don’t care now, then by then it’ll be too late.” He smiled through the entire time she ranted. “Fine, smile, laugh, enjoy my zeal.” She turned to walk away.

“No, no,” he said, taking her arm before she moved away. He pulled her closer. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m admiring your passion. Do you get this passionate about everything in your life?”

She smiled, slightly embarrassed. “Well, maybe not pizza with anchovies but pretty much everything else.”

“I’ll have to remember that, pizza, no anchovies.”

They stood there a moment, just smiling. “We should really get out of here. It’s late and…” She turned to walk away again, but this time, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Afterward, breathless, she laid her head on his chest, stunned by his kiss, by her reaction to his kiss. “Wow, this was definitely not how I expected the evening to go.”

“Nor I,” he said, backing away. “I’m sorry, that was unprofessional and wrong. I don’t know…”

“Well, I guess I should apologize, too, then.”

“For what?” he asked cautiously.

“For this.” She flung herself at him, locking her mouth to his, wrapping her arms around him. The kiss was full of passion as he opened to her and she opened to him. The tangle of tongues wrestling made their passion soar.

His hands, one holding her tight, the other caressing her breast, felt like heaven on her body as she pressed even closer beneath his suit jacket, resting her hands on the firmness of his buttocks. Pressing, pushing together even more seemed impossible, yet they attempted the feat anyway.

He caressed her face with his hands as his gentle kisses slowed the hunger but not the desire. Tasting, licking and savoring the moment, they kissed in slow, steady resolve, feeling every pleasure.

A throat cleared behind them. “Sir,” his assistant called out with his back turned to them, while they were still locked in a passionate embrace.

Randolph instantly held Alyssa away as he took a step back, putting distance between them. “Yes, Kent, what is it?”

“Sir, we have a situation.”

Two seconds later the sound of sirens was heard as several police cars careened down the street and surrounded the small storefront building. Blinding lights flashed through the front window and calls to surrender rang out.

“This is the police, come out now.”

“Sir?” Kent turned to him, questioning.

“Just do as they say, we’ll straighten it out later.”

“Yes, sir.” He immediately spoke into a small phone and their driver instantly stepped out and placed his hands on his head and leaned against the big black car.

“All right, inside the building, come out now.”

Kent looked at the senator and nodded, then walked out. Randolph followed with Alyssa at his side.

“Yep, I’m so going to jail,” she muttered to herself.

Chapter 4

“A
lyssa Wingate,” Nina muttered, still half asleep, “this had better be good. Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s good. I’m in jail.”

“You’re in what?” Nina sat straight up in bed.

“Don’t panic,” Alyssa warned.

“Don’t panic? You call me at this hour, tell me that you’re in jail and then you tell me not to panic. Are you kidding me?”

“Okay, you can panic a little. Senator Kingsley is here with me. We’re being detained.”

“Senator who? He’s what? You’re what?”

“You’re panicking.”

“You’re damn right I’m panicking. What happened? Why is the senator in jail with you? Did you follow him to the other reception? Oh, we are so fired.”

“We’re not fired, and actually I’m being detained. He’s just hanging around to make sure I’m okay. I think.”

“Excuse me, you have a United States senator hanging around a police station at twelve midnight just to make sure you’re okay. Are you kidding me?”

“No, not kidding.”

“Alyssa, what happened after the art gallery?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here. I need you to stop by the office, get my purse from my bottom drawer and bring my ID. Unfortunately, I’m still supposedly Sundari Adia Nomalanga.”

“Should I ask and do I even want to know?”

“Probably not and not really,” she said.

“Okay, give me the precinct address. I’m on my way.”

Half an hour later Nina showed up with Alyssa’s purse. She was escorted into a small office where Alyssa stood staring out the window. “Girl, you have so much explaining to do.”

“Later, I’m just tired now,” Alyssa said.

“All right, ma’am,” the officer said, then looked down at the driver’s license in his hand. “Ms. Wingate, you’re all set. The Senator vouched for you, you’re free to go.” He placed her purse and ID on the desk and turned to leave but then turned again. “But it might be a good idea to keep the proper ID on you and when you’re working late, lock the doors behind you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said.

He walked out, leaving the door open behind him. Alyssa glanced at the door as he left. Senator Kingsley stood across the room, chatting easily with a few uniformed officers. He glanced in the open door. Seeing Alyssa, he nodded and then looked away casually.

“Come on, let’s go,” Nina said.

“Yeah,” Alyssa said, picking up her purse and ID from the table.

Nina drove back to the office, asking dozens of questions, but Alyssa wasn’t in the mood to elaborate. She told Nina the basics about forgetting to lock the door and that the senator had been driving by and, seeing the door open and the lights on, had come inside.

“Then what?” Nina asked anxiously.

“Then nothing. I heard a noise out front and called the police. They came and drove us all to the station to get more information. In the excitement I forgot to get my purse, and the only identification I had was that stupid name tag.”

“That is so weirdly spooky,” Nina said excitedly.

“What is so weirdly spooky?” she asked, not in the mood for Nina’s mystical mystery mumbo jumbo. Nina Hall, a proud descendant of Creole grandparents, was born and raised in New Orleans and prided herself on the ways of mysticism. Deathly afraid of voodoo or anything like it, she was a firm believer in karma, kismet, destiny and the charms of the necromantic.

“That you were in jail tonight.”

“Scary, annoying and a pain in the butt, but not something I’d call weirdly spooky.”

“No, don’t you remember? That’s what you kept saying at the reception. You did this to yourself, you cursed yourself.”

“Nina, please, it’s almost one in the morning, no voodoo this late.” Nina looked at her, her mouth open in shock. “Sorry, no mystical kismet this late.”

“But don’t you see? You did it. It was like you saw your own future and you incorporated Senator Kingsley into it. You made it happen.”

“Yes, I made it happen. I spilled the drink on him, I forgot to lock the office front door, called the police and forgot to get my purse.”

“See, see, you see?”

“I see that I’m tired and sleepy and that we’re a block away from my car.”

“We’re being followed,” Nina whispered, glancing up in the mirror, then quickly looking away.

Alyssa turned around and squinted. She saw darkness and a few street and traffic lights and the corner they had just turned. “I don’t see anything.”

“We just turned the corner, wait until they turn, too,” Nina said as she pulled up right in front of the building.

They both sat, staring behind them. No car ever turned. “Nina, it’s late, it’s dark and you just imagined it.”

“I could have sworn someone was following us all the way from the police station.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’re safe.” Alyssa looked at the office. The security gate had been pulled down and the locks already secured. “Thanks again, Nina,” she said, “I really appreciate you coming out this late.”

“No problem. Call me when you get home.”

“I will. Drive safely. See you tomorrow.”

Alyssa got into her car and drove straight home. She grabbed a quick shower and curled her hair. Tomorrow was a workday and she needed to look presentable even if she had dark circles and bags under her eyes.

She took a small glob of the face cream her mother always used and plastered her face to remove the last remnants of makeup. Using a tissue, she wiped and washed her face, then blotted it dry. Light and mirror didn’t lie. She tilted her face from side to side. Even without the aid of her glasses she could see that she was the exact image of her grandmother, Allie.

Every photo, every video and every film confirmed it.

Allie had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s two years earlier but refused to accept it. Her memory was weakening daily and Alyssa felt completely helpless. All the dreams the two of them talked about and whispered about over tea and cakes were lost to her now. But it was the helplessness that was so punishing. The disease was bad enough, but the fact that the government didn’t seem to regard seniors as an important constituency was deplorable.

So as a registered nurse and geriatric specialist turned lobbyist, she intended to do her best to change things for the better. That’s why she chose to approach Randolph Kingsley. He was the newly appointed vice chairman of the U.S. Senate Special Committee for the Aging and he seemed sympathetic to the cause.

But now she didn’t know what to think. He flirted with her and she called him a jerk. He kissed her, she kissed him and then as soon as somebody else showed up, he stepped away. What was that all about? Of course, the first thing she assumed was that he was ashamed to be seen with her. What else could it be? After all, she wasn’t some gorgeous model or actress. She was just plain old Alyssa Wingate from Washington. D.C.

Alyssa yawned and trod barefoot into the bedroom of her small one-bedroom apartment in a building on a narrow street. She collapsed back onto her king-size bed, and for once, enjoyed the pleasure of completely stretching out spread-eagle on its softness.