A Political Affair (13 page)

“Yes, I know, but I’d like some privacy.”
 

The skeptical look didn’t leave Megan’s face. Megan stared him down, as if she was calculating the damage a fifteen-minute rendezvous could cause. “Okay,” she declared. “But you better come clean with me.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll bring her in here and make a call right outside the door.”

“Thanks, Meg.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I owe you.”

“Yes, you seem to have a running tab at this point.”

A minute before four, Megan arrived and asked Anne to help assemble some press packets. She was chatty as they walked, telling Anne about the weather back in Denver and a new restaurant she’d found over the weekend.

When she opened her office door, Anne was happy to see Stephen. Studying his phone, he half sat on the desk with his long legs stretched in front of him.
 

Before she could say hello, Megan said, “I need to make a call. I’ll be outside for a moment.”

As she looked over her shoulder at the closing door, she felt Stephen take her hands in his. When she turned around, he smiled.

“Hey.” He squeezed her hands.

“Hi.” She smiled and glanced around Megan’s office. It was hard to believe they were alone together at work and Megan had arranged it.

“I don’t have much time. I hate it when no one leaves me any breathing room in my schedule, and it’s always the worst after being back in the state.” He continued to hold one of her hands as he led her to the couch.

Anne was at a loss for words. Being alone with him was wonderful, but the situation was too strange. Smiling uneasily, she said, “This is different.”

“I’m sorry.” His brow knitted together in concern. “I can only imagine how awkward this is for you. I’d like to see you outside of this damn office. I’m not sure how to arrange it, though.” He smiled and traced his fingers along hers. “And I can’t even start because you haven’t given me your phone number.”

“Give me a pen.” She giggled.

“Here.” Taking a pen from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he grabbed a pad of paper on the coffee table. “Write legibly, please. I might become suicidal if I finally get to call you and I get a wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll make do with whatever girl you get on the line.”

“But I don’t want to
make do
.”

Letting his sweet comment hang in the air, she bit her lip and smiled. As she wrote down her number, they chatted about the LSAT. She knew she should bring up her conversation with his mother, but she had no idea how.

When he tucked her number into his shirt pocket, she said, “I have to thank you for all the study sessions. They really did help me. A few of the questions were exactly like ones you had worked out. Keith is grateful, too. Wait until you see him.”

“I’m glad to have helped him.” He touched her hand again. “But I only did it so I could spend time with you.”

“You did?” She couldn’t fathom he would go to such lengths.

“I did.” Stephen smiled, but his face quickly became more serious.

“I’m glad,” she whispered. She was more than glad, though. She was entranced by this wonderful guy who, for some inexplicable reason, had become taken with her. All her instincts willed her to throw herself at him. She wanted to kiss and touch him to show him how she felt.

If the warmth of his gaze was anything to go by, she guessed he’d like it. When he squeezed and gently caressed her hand, she knew he’d
definitely
like it.
Oh God. If he’s thinking what I’m thinking, we shouldn’t be alone in the same room together at work.

“I need to get to my four-fifteen,” he said reluctantly. He stood and held his hand out.

“I’m sorry your schedule is so tight.” She took his hand and followed him to the door.

“It’s an awful week. I won’t be able to see you until the weekend. Are you free on Sunday?”

“Sure.” She wondered where on earth they would go.

“Good.” He grinned. “Like I said before, we need to talk—a lot, but I also need to speak with my family. This past weekend wasn’t a good time. I needed to focus on work, and the conversations are going to be . . . complicated. After I talk to them on Saturday, I’ll call you.”

“That’s fine,” she said as her gut clenched. She couldn’t believe she was going to be a topic of conversation for the McEvoys.

“And I’m sorry I’m not going to be able to talk with you much this week. I’m too busy, and well, I’m realizing . . .” He shook his head as if he couldn’t articulate his thoughts.

“It’s okay. I totally understand. Don’t feel like you have to talk to me here.” When he looked distressed by her comment, she said, “I know this is
 . . .
strange for you, too.”

“Strange?” He smiled and looked down at their joined hands. “Yes, but also very, very good.”

“I agree.” She beamed.

The sound of the door opening caused Stephen to drop her hand at once. In response, she took a small step backward.

“Stephen, your four-fifteen is waiting in your office,” Megan announced from the door. “Remember to tell those union guys that we’re not answering questions from the press on that legislation until we hear from all sides. I’m tired of them bugging me about it.”

“Okay.” He smiled again at Anne. “Have a good evening.”

“You, too,” she answered as he left.

Winking at Anne, Megan pointed to a stack of press packets on a table. “Now that you’re done with the packets, can you take those folders out to my assistant?”

“Of course.” She picked up the folders and turned to Megan with a big smile. “I’m always happy to help you.”

That night, Megan lay in bed with her husband, Marco Zamora, who’d returned from another long trip. He was a career diplomat at the State Department who specialized in only the thorniest of foreign policy issues. His Mexican-American heritage and street smarts, combined with his big heart, made him unique in the genteel Foreign Service. Megan was certain if Marco could orchestrate talks between warring countries, he could find some middle ground for Stephen and Patty.

As she snuggled against her husband, Megan told him the whole story. His brow furrowed as he listened. When she finished, he took a moment before giving his professional assessment.
 

“I should be there when he tells Patty. I feel for him—always having to talk with his sisters about his private life. Maybe having another man there will help. And the conversation shouldn’t be at your mother’s, for Christ’s sake. Let’s come back here. A mother in the mix will only make it worse. Plus with all his dad’s things around him, he’ll feel pressure to do whatever Patty demands rather than what’s best for him personally.” He paused for a moment and stroked her arm. “I have to say, I feel sorry for the guy.”

“You feel sorry for Stephen?” Megan raised herself on her elbow. “Why in the world? He’s got everything going for him.”

“If he feels a tenth of what I feel for you for this Anne Norwood, he’s in a terrible predicament,” he said as he stroked her hair.

Chapter 10

On Saturday, the McEvoy siblings and Marco walked up the drive of the impressive Kennedy-Warren building.
 

   
“If you’re free,” Stephen said to Patty. “I’d like to talk with you after this.”

“Sure.” She fluffed her red curls. “About what?”

“Anne.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded, acknowledging he dropped a bomb.

“What the fuck, Stephen? What is it with you and her?”
 

“I said, let’s talk later.”
 

“An
intern
?” She stopped walking and angrily shook her head. “You’re a cliché.”

“Patty, not now,” Marco said under his breath. “The doorman’s right there.”

“Okay,” she said, and shot a dirty look at Stephen. He simply shook his head in reply as the four walked through the doors.

Lillian McEvoy had a splendid apartment, replete with multiple terraces and formal spaces. Despite the grandeur of the dining room, she preferred to have most meals in the kitchen, which had a cozy eating area. She was always happy to cook for her children, and as they assembled in the kitchen, she wondered why there was a tense mood among them.

When they sat in silence eating the feast she had prepared, she recognized she would have to move the conversation along. She hated having tension over a nice meal.

“I met the most interesting young woman recently,” she said in an attempt to break the icy mood. “She’s an intern in your office, Stephen. I’m sure you know her. Anne Norwood? She’s very nice,
and
she’s Elt—”

After Lillian said Anne’s name, simultaneous reactions sprung from everyone at the table. Stephen froze with a forkful of egg in his mouth. Megan munched her toast but turned immediately to her husband. Marco, on the other hand, continued to eat as if nothing had happened, though his eyes moved from person to person, studying everyone’s reactions.
 

Patty was the only one who spoke. Placing her orange juice on the table, she snorted. “Oh my God!”
 

“Now, Patty. That’s not nice,” Lillian chided. “You can’t help who your parents are. She seems like a nice person, even if she’s from a Republican family.”

“Oh, Mom, I wasn’t laughing at
Anne
. I was laughing at Stephen.” She snickered.

“Stephen?” Lillian cocked her head. “Why are you laughing at Stephen about Anne Norwood?”

“Because he doesn’t just
know
her.” She guffawed. “He’s got
a thing
for her.”

Lillian followed Patty’s smug gaze to Stephen, who looked livid.

“Anne? Anne Norwood?” she asked her son. “The girl I met last week? You’re interested in her? But she’s an intern.”

“Exactly,” exclaimed Patty.

“And her father is a Republican elected official in your state.” Lillian leaned in and eyed her son. “You’re not serious, are you, Stephen?”

“Yes, he is. Thank you, Mom, for saying what I’ve said all along. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“Now, Patty, don’t make more of this than it really is,” Marco interjected in his calming voice. “Stephen, I hope you don’t mind me saying what I see here. But as I understand it, Mrs. McEvoy, Stephen and Anne happen to have a lot in common and are just friends.”

Lillian’s eyes shifted between Marco and Stephen.
Since when is my son
just friends
with a beautiful woman?
She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire so she simply asked, “Stephen, what’s going on?”

The room quieted as everyone waited for him to speak. He stared blankly at the wall with his mouth set in a hard line. After a moment, he spoke in an almost monotone voice. “Anne and I are friends. I like her a lot. I want to get to know her more, but there are a million different problems with that happening. It’s very frustrating.”
 

“Glad you recognize that,” Patty remarked. “There
are
a million different legal, political, and PR problems with that happening. So you should cool it until after the election. You can wait.”

“That’s over a year away,” he snapped.

“If you’re saying you want to date her right now, the answer is categorically no.” Patty put her napkin on the table with a thump of finality. “Even
if
she quit her internship on Monday and was able to keep a secret, the story would slip somewhere. And with your reputation, it’s a great story. The media will run with it. You have to be more careful than anyone.”

“I don’t understand how you can even consider her,” Lillian said dismissively. Her mouth hardened, and she issued a maternal judgment. “You know better.”