A Political Affair (8 page)

“I often take a book outside myself, usually long ones so I have a lot to read.”

“I notice you have Angle of Repose on your bookshelf. That’s a wonderful book.”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

Megan’s voice came from the direction of the open door. “Hey, I’m off to pick up Marco at the airport.”

“Okay.” He checked his watch. “It’s getting late.”
 

“I need to get something from home first, though. Anne, would you like a ride?” Megan asked.

“Oh, thanks. That would be great, but I live in Adams-Morgan. Is that out of your way?”
 

“Not at all. I live in Dupont,” Megan replied.

“Great. I’d love to skip the Metro tonight. Let me just get my stuff.”
 

Turning to Stephen, Anne wondered for a moment how to say good-bye after he’d been so friendly with her. Calling him “Senator” seemed odd. She remembered her place, though, and addressed him properly. “Thank you, Senator McEvoy. Study hall was very helpful, and thank you for showing me your photos.”

“It was my pleasure,” he answered with a warm smile. “It was good talking with you.”
 

His smile caused her to blink a few times as she took it in. She tried to explain it to herself and decided he simply wanted to be friends.
He’s just a nice guy.
 

Chapter 6

After learning where Anne lived in Adams-Morgan, Megan pulled onto Massachusetts Avenue and started her investigation. “So do you have plans this weekend, other than studying?”

   
“I’m going to a fundraiser on Saturday night. I think it’s cocktail attire. Am I right?”

“The DSCC one?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“I’m going, too. I’d wear a cocktail dress to be safe. I usually do.” Megan didn’t mention Stephen also planned to attend the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee fundraiser that night. Instead, she used it as an opportunity to probe. “So, do you have a date?”

“No, I’m just going with a group who got some comp tickets.”

“You’re so pretty. I assumed you’d have a date.”

“Hardly. I’m definitely average. I grew up with a bunch of gorgeous girls who could out-ski anyone.”

“Hmm. Well, you know what they say . . . ‘Washington, D.C. is Hollywood for ugly people.’ Everybody in D.C. is a geek. Being pretty and smart in this town makes you unique and desirable. ”
 

“That’s very nice of you, thanks. But I think I identify more with the geek part.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s true. So what are your plans for the summer if you’re going to law school in the fall? Backpacking through Europe?”

“Europe? I wish. Actually, I’m waiting a year to apply. I want some time off, and I need to make money. My dad’s only willing to pay for part of law school. He’s got this whole self-sufficiency thing with us. I want to stay in D.C., though.”

During the rest of the car ride, Megan learned about Anne’s plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas (she planned to stay in D.C. for one and head to Silverthorne for the other); when Anne planned on ending her internship (April 1, so she could concentrate on her thesis due in May); and if her family would visit her while she was in D.C. (no, because Elton hated it).

At the end of the ride, Anne thanked her profusely, but Megan wouldn’t hear of it. “Honestly, it was my pleasure. I feel like I know you more now.” She smiled because she liked Anne and because she couldn’t wait to tell Stephen about her.
 

It was impossible to miss the late arrivals to the fundraiser the following Saturday night, especially when one such latecomer was Senator McEvoy. Anne saw him and Congresswoman Schultz as soon as they walked in the door. Even in a conservative shift dress with pearls, the congresswoman was attractive, with her red hair shining against the black of her dress. The senator looked even more dashing than usual in a dark gray dress suit and a white shirt with French cuffs. But as soon as she surmised he was on a date, Anne couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut.
 

The giant ballroom at the Washington Hilton held close to 500 people, but Stephen spotted Anne not far away. Her table was rowdy with laughing Senate staff, while his dinner companions of lobbyists and donors never said anything remotely humorous. When he saw Anne laugh, he wondered what she thought was so funny.

Noticing her strapless dress, he thought she looked lovely—and probably even lovelier with the dress off. He swallowed his envy of Keith, who sat beside her and moved closer when they spoke. Stephen was so preoccupied observing Anne that he ignored his date. When Diane noted his silence and asked if something was wrong, he lied, saying he had a headache.
 

After dessert, there was movement around the podium as the various speakers got ready for the night’s program. He watched as Anne left her table, no doubt for the ladies’ room. Somewhere in the building, she was alone, and Stephen acted on impulse. Waiting a few minutes so she could use the facilities, he excused himself and went to find her.
 

The Hilton’s cavernous basement proved to be a maze, but when he finally found her, he was pleased with his luck because they were out of the way. Though people milled around further down the hall, no one could hear or tell who they were.

Anne’s eyes widened when she looked around, and he guessed she too must have realized they were virtually alone. He stared at her freckled skin, which was rosy against her pink dress. The form-fitting silhouette showed off her svelte figure and cleavage.
 

“Good evening, Anne.”

“Good evening, Senator.”
 

“You look . . . lovely,” he said in a rough voice.

As he spoke, Anne realized why she felt so crushed when she saw him with Congresswoman Schultz. Anne didn’t have a claim on him, but she wasn’t crazy.
I don’t know what he’s thinking, but something is happening between us. Something is going on here, right now.
 

“Thank you, Sen—”

“Please . . . don’t call me that. Not when we’re like this. Please, call me Stephen,” he said softly.

“Okay.” Proven right, she smiled and became more self-assured. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“That’s a pretty dress.”

“Oh, this one?” She looked down and shook her head. “Ironically, the last time I wore this was at Dan Langford’s daughter’s wedding.”

“Really?”
 

“Yeah, it’s kind of a crazy story . . . well, the dress isn’t, but the night was. It was a mess, or I was mess.”

“Tell me about it.” He smiled and leaned against the railing on the wall.

“I don’t know.” She laughed. “I wasn’t on my best and brightest behavior.”

“Oh, God.” He chuckled. “I’ve spent most of my life not on my best and brightest behavior. Tell me your story. I’m intrigued Langford is in it.”

“Well, I guess I can.” She hoped he’d find it funny. “It was two years ago. My brother, Mark, was home from med school, and it was the day of the wedding. Without telling us, my mom had RSVP’d for the whole family. My brother and I were irritated, and we argued with her. Mark finally agreed to go, but he filled his flask with vodka beforehand.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah.” She giggled. “Anyway, it turned out there wasn’t any alcohol at the reception because Langford’s family doesn’t drink.
 
Both my mom and dad grumbled about not believing in weddings without a real toast, but Mark kept smiling and patting his suit jacket like he was prepared. At the dinner, we were stuck at the table with the minister and his wife, and they started asking us if we’ve been saved, where we go to church, and all that. My mom tried to be polite and told them her father was a Presbyterian minister, but my dad wouldn’t even talk to them. He hates evangelicals—he thinks they invade his privacy. Meanwhile, Mark was in the bathroom getting drunk.”

“Sounds like he had the right plan.”

“I know! I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I found Mark and made him give me a few swigs. We left the reception early and met up with friends at a local bar that never cards so I could get it in. He left after an hour or so, but I stayed and got really drunk.”

“This doesn’t sound so bad—”

“Well, when we left the bar, I barely could walk in my heels. I fell on my ass right in front of a cop and got arrested for public intoxication and being a minor under the influence.”

“Oh, not good.” He winced. “What did your dad do?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, Elton Norwood, District Attorney, was pissed. I mean really pissed. I was in the friggin’ jail, and he came down to give me a speech about how he wouldn’t use his influence to get me out because it was his duty to enforce the law in Summit County. But as my father, he’d pay my bail and stand by me at my trial.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, yes. Luckily, the sheriff on duty that night took pity on me when he learned I was turning twenty-one the next month. He let me go.”

“So that’s the story of this dress.”

“That’s right.” She smiled.

“I can’t believe your dad didn’t get you out. My dad always did.”

“Maybe that’s the difference between having a Republican versus a Democrat dad.”

“Maybe so. Though I’ve been in trouble more than just once.”

“Well, you’re a lot older than me.” She laughed, but stopped when she noticed he wasn’t smiling. “I’m sorry. That was really rude. Please forgive me.”

As her earnest eyes pled with him, Stephen was quiet for a second. He wasn’t upset with her; he was upset with his predicament. He’d just enjoyed a nice chat, but now he faced one of the realities dividing them.

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled to make her feel more at ease. “I believe I’m ten years older than you. That’s a fact.”

“Well, thirty-two doesn’t sound so old to me,” she remarked hesitantly.
 

“And twenty-two doesn’t sound so young to me.”

They gazed at one another in silence as if they played a game of chicken. After a while, she looked away. “I should get back.”

“Yes.” His face fell. “I suppose you should.”

“You’re here with Congresswoman Schultz, aren’t you?” Her voice was pointed.
 

He wasn’t sure how to respond. He couldn’t lie and say Diane was only a friend—he’d spent too many nights in her bed. “Yes, I am.” Without thinking, his body overrode the tight control he had over his feelings for Anne. He raised a hand to stroke her shoulder. “But I wish—”

“Stephen, can you help me out here?” The bass of a masculine, southern drawl boomed through the hall.

Dropping his hand at once, Stephen turned to the voice he knew well. “Of course, Grayson.”

The elderly Senator Grayson York had represented the state of Georgia in the Senate for the last forty years, and for the majority of those years, he’d been best friends with Patrick McEvoy. If anyone outside his family had to see him touch Anne, Stephen was glad it was Grayson. Indeed, as Patty’s godfather, he was family.

As Grayson ambled their way, Stephen welcomed him, “Grayson, I’d like to introduce you to Anne Norwood. She’s interning in my office.”

“Miss Norwood, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Grayson said as he extended his hand. Stephen smiled at Grayson, who showed off his good manners and didn’t call out an awkward situation. Instead, he pushed ahead with his southern charm. “Anne is a name that runs in the York family. My daughter, Cynthia, almost named my grandchild Anne.”

“Good evening, Senator York.” She shook his hand. “And what name did she choose instead?”

“Elton . . . turned out to be a grandson rather than a granddaughter.”

“That’s actually my father’s name.”

“There aren’t too many Eltons in the world. What does your father do?”

“He’s a district attorney in Colorado.” She smiled sheepishly. “He’s a Republican.”

“Aw, don’t worry about that. Sometimes it seems like everyone in Georgia is a Republican except me.”
 

Both she and Stephen broke out into laughter. When the chuckling died down, Anne shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Senator York.”

“Have a good evening, Anne.”

She turned to Stephen. “And it was good to talk with you, Senator McEvoy.”

Stephen said good-bye, and their eyes lingered for a few seconds. He felt as if she was asking him if their conversation really happened. He gave her a slight nod to acknowledge that it had.
 

As she walked away, Stephen admired her bare shoulders before he quickly turned to Grayson. “You asked if I could help you, but I believe your question was aimed at helping me.”

“Why don’t we sit?” Grayson pointed at two Queen Anne chairs off to the side in the hall. “At my age, you get tired standing.”

Stephen looked around to make sure they were still alone before taking a seat.

“So who is this Miss Norwood?” Grayson asked as he settled into his chair.

“As I said, she’s an intern in my office.” He sighed. “Nothing has happened.”

“I didn’t ask if anything had happened.” Grayson chuckled. “But now that you mention it, I’ve been around a while, and I know you. Something will happen. You should stop while you’re still ahead. This looks like your garden-variety intern infatuation.”