A Political Affair (10 page)

“It is. I really liked reading about Lady Bird. She was such an interesting woman.”
 

“And LBJ was a fascinating man. Really impressive.”
 

“Thanks in large part to Lady Bird,” she muttered without thinking about who she was talking to. “Lady Bird was amazing, and he treated her like shit. She helped his career every step of the way, and he practically flaunted his affairs in front of her.”
 

His eyes were wide by the turn in the conversation. “Um. Well, at that time—”
 

“At that time? You have got to be kidding me. Like it doesn’t happen
all
the time. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Bill Clinton, Mark Sanford, John Edwards, Eliot Spitzer—”
 

“It wasn’t like that for my parents.” His voice was soft, but his body was rigid, looking uncomfortable by the subject.
 

She could sense she’d struck a nerve, so she steered them away from the topic. “No. I’m sure it wasn’t. Your father was a good man in addition to being a good politician.”
 

“He was.” Stephen was silent for a moment as if he were debating what to say next. With his focus entirely on her, he said, “I’ve always looked up to both my parents, though. They had a great partnership. That’s something I want one day.”
 

Nodding at first, she soon turned away from the intensity of his stare; she had nothing to say in reply. She’d entered completely uncharted territory. Luckily, they were only two blocks away from her house, but the minute of silence was deafening.
 

By the time Jim pulled up in front of her door, she was composed once more. “Thank you for dinner and the ride, and especially the conversation. I always like talking with you.”
 

“It’s my pleasure, and I always like talking with you, too.” His smile faded a bit as he muttered, “If only . . . well . . . never mind.”

“If only what?”

“There are a lot of ‘if onlys’ in my life,” he said with a wistful chuckle.
 

“Maybe you should give up on some of these ‘if onlys’. Maybe you’d be happier if you let it go. Some things aren’t meant to be.”
 

“And some are.” He stared her down. “I’ve become sure of that.”
 

He’d spoken so quickly and with such conviction that she was taken aback. More seconds passed as she returned his intense gaze.
Is he talking about me? But he can’t be. What do I say?
She searched her mind for generic advice and offered, “Then it will happen, regardless. Things will come together.”

“That’s usually the way it works, right?” he asked as a smile crossed his face.

“Yeah.” She also smiled—about what, she wasn’t sure, but his expression made her want to return the feeling. She opened the car door and stepped out. “Good night,
Stephen.
Get some rest.”

“Good night,” he said, his smile brightening even more.
 

The following morning, Anne stood in the copy room, assembling media packets for a press conference later that afternoon. Like many of her daily tasks, it was mindless work. Whatever the job, it was usually more interesting than her classes, but that day she would’ve preferred sitting through a lecture. The mundane office work left her to speculate about Stephen.
 

Parsing his words from the prior night, she couldn’t find anything strange—except him saying he wanted to get to know her. That was very out of the ordinary for a senator to tell an intern. And when she considered how he looked in her eyes as he spoke, something did feel odd.
Like he’s speaking in code.

“Morning, Anne,” he said over her shoulder.

She’d hoped sleep and time would create some distance—some clarity for her with the man. But by her reaction to seeing him, she knew it hadn’t happened. She slapped a pile of folders onto another, wanting the noise to counter her unease.

“Good morning.” She smiled, happy again to have avoided the confusion as to what to call him.
 

“Did you finish your book last night?”

“No. But does it really matter if you ever finish a book you’ve already read?”

“I suppose not.”

As she admired his bright smile, she noticed for the first time that while he was tall, he was the perfect height for her. The twinkle in his eye made her want to tease him. “And did
you
finish your book,
Master of the Senate
?” She was proud of her play on words.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” He leaned against the counter with a smirk. “Maybe now I should locate one of my mother’s multiple copies of
Jane Eyre
.”

“Er . . . it’s a really dark book.”
Dear God, don’t let him read it.
She dreaded a conversation about a story of a young woman in love with her rakish, older employer. “You probably won’t like it.”

“I don’t know about that.” He shrugged. “It’s a classic. I probably should’ve read it before. And it can’t be that dark. There’s a happy ending, right?”

“Well, yes, there’s a ‘happily ever after,’ but it takes a long time to get there . . . and not until the very end. A lot of people don’t like it.”

“So it’s a romance?” He cocked his head. “But it takes until the end of the book for the couple to get together?”

“Pretty much.”

“And what do you think of the . . . delay?”
 

“I think it’s realistic, especially given the challenges they face.” She met his warm, intense gaze—so intense she was quite certain they indeed spoke in code, and the subject wasn’t
Jane Eyre.

“Given their struggles, do you think their relationship was worth it in the end?” He followed up with a more pointed question. “Do you think that’s the way it really is?”

She no longer trusted words; she couldn’t take them at face value when they talked. She gave him a quick nod and left it at that.

“That’s good to know,” he said softly. Pushing off the counter’s edge, he straightened his stance and smiled. “I need to run. I leave for Denver in a couple of hours. Have a nice weekend.”

“You, too,” she squeaked with a small smile, as he walked out of the room.
 

Turning her back to the door, she placed her hands to her temples and tried to calm down. She played devil’s advocate to talk herself out the notion that he wanted her, but she failed. There’d been too many conversations—too many awkward conversations—to think there was nothing going on. Her mind rummaged through what he’d said during the last few weeks. Telling snippets stuck with her: all the compliments he paid her, how he sought her out to talk, the tension between them—particularly the night of the fundraiser—and finally, his asking her if a good relationship was worth any wait or struggle.
 

Faced with the evidence, she laid her hands on her cheeks as they reddened. Her crush had grown into strong emotions, but the feelings were based on mundane things. It wasn’t because he was a handsome, powerful man—at least not only that. She liked that they shared so many interests, that he knew something about horses, that he was a thoughtful person, and that he could make her laugh and blush. Ultimately, his underlying sadness drew her in. She still didn’t know what it was about, but she felt special because sometimes she could coax him out of it.
 

Despite the feelings welling inside of her, she knew she had to put a halt to them. It was an impossible situation. He was a senator; she was an intern. It would ruin them both and hurt their families. Nothing was worth that.

For the next week, Anne went back to avoiding Stephen. She didn’t take the drastic measures she had in the past, yet she still managed to limit their interactions. He often seemed disappointed when she’d run off after only a few words. She told herself she was doing him a favor. Obviously, he wasn’t thinking clearly about the risk. She needed to be smart for both of them.
 

Chapter 8

The following Thursday was the last study session before the LSAT. When she entered the room, Stephen grinned so widely she couldn’t help but give him a bashful smile. She found her seat and resolved to keep her mind on her work rather than flirting with a dashing senator.
 

   
It proved to be easy. As Stephen worked through logic problems, Anne’s stomach began to gurgle in pain. Against her better judgment, she’d eaten the sketchy chicken tikka masala at the Indian buffet lunch. Keith encouraged her, though he admitted he had a stomach of iron and never got sick. She was just the opposite; if someone was going to get sick from a food, she was the one to do it.

When Megan brought in a surprise dinner of pizza, food was the last thing she needed to see or smell, so she kept her head down. She glanced up once and accidentally caught Stephen’s eye. He looked concerned, but a whiff of pepperoni made her turn her head away.
 

“Anne, do you want a slice?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” she answered, forcing a feeble smile. She resumed staring at her paper.

As the clock neared seven, she couldn’t control herself any longer. Without making eye contact with anyone, she quietly excused herself and hurried to the bathroom. She barely made it into the first stall. Afterward, she washed her mouth out, and searching for some solace, she leaned across the large vanity and pressed her hot cheek against the cool porcelain counter.
 

The tap, tap, tap of heels made her open her eyes.

“Anne, are you okay?” Megan asked.

“Yes . . . no . . . I guess . . . not really.”

“All of the above?” Megan chuckled. “Don’t worry, I understand.”

“Thanks.” She winced. “My lunch didn’t agree with me.”

“Do you want me to help you to the office?”

“No.” She closed her eyes again. “I’ll be okay in a couple of minutes. I just need to catch my breath.”

“Okay. Do you want some Seven-Up or water?”

“Water. In a little bit.”

“Well, come back when you feel up to it, and I’ll get you some.”

When Megan returned, the study session had ended, and Stephen was talking football with Greg and Keith. She tugged on her brother’s shirtsleeve.

“How is she?” he asked, stepping aside from the men. He wanted to know the result of the mission he’d sent her on.

“She’s got a stomach thing. She looks horrible.”

“That’s too bad.” Stephen frowned.

“If I could, I’d drive her home, but I can’t. I have to meet Marco at the German Embassy in twenty-five minutes.”

“That’s okay.” Stephen smiled. “I’ll take her home. I already offered a ride to Greg and Keith.”

“Pfft.” Megan rolled her eyes and said under her breath, “You’re the luckiest bastard on earth. Opportunities just happen for you.”

“Given how unlucky I am in this situation, I could use an opportunity,” he whispered.

“Whatever. She’s so sick nothing is going to happen.”

Keith’s voice rose above them all. “Whoa, Anne, you don’t look so good.”

“Um. Yeah.” Standing in the doorway, Anne smiled weakly and shrugged. When she saw Stephen staring at her, she became mortified. She ran a shaky hand through her hair.
Great. I look as crappy as I feel.

“Poor Anne. Let me get that water for you now,” said Megan as she left the room.

“I’m giving these two a ride home,” said Stephen, nodding to Keith and Greg. “I’ll drop you off, too.”
 

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I can get a cab.” She worried about the very real possibility of puking in front of him.
 

“That’s ridiculous. I’ll take you.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He pointed behind her. “Megan’s got water for you right here. Why don’t you sit down and have some before we leave?”

Too exhausted to object, she took the water from Megan and sipped quietly while everyone conversed around her. When the crew made it to Stephen’s car, Anne climbed in the back with Greg and Keith, while Stephen sat in the front with his driver. She was happy to hear Keith lived near Greg on the Hill, thinking it would get her home quickly. Then she remembered it also meant she’d be alone with Stephen for at least fifteen minutes as they made their way to her place.
 

If she hadn’t been so sick, she might’ve panicked. Instead, she stared out the car window and repeated a simple mantra:
I will not puke in Stephen’s car. I will not puke in Stephen’s car.

Unfortunately, the mantra wasn’t effective. When Jim pulled up in front of Keith’s house, she whispered, “I need to step outside for a moment,” and ran off. As soon as she was around the corner, she grabbed a wrought iron fence for leverage and retched what was inside of her stomach onto the outside world.
 

“Are you okay?”
 

The sound of Stephen’s voice made her pause for a moment.
Why, God, is this happening to me? Why does he have to see me like this?
Her stomach didn’t agree with the pause, and she heaved again. When she caught her breath, she answered him, “No. Not okay. It’s nothing you want to be around.”

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing I haven’t seen or done myself.” He chuckled. “I’ve got some water for you when you’re done.”