Candidate: A Love Story (7 page)

“Kate, how’s it going?” James from
The Tribune
shouted from somewhere in the crowd.

“I don’t make a habit of standing around hospitals at two in the morning, so considering, I’m fine, James, thanks for asking.” Kate smiled and more shouting ensued.

“Gentleman . . . and lady, hello, Carey.” Kate and Carey nodded to each other in acknowledgement that they were both in a sea of men. Kate continued, “I will make a statement, take a few questions, and that will be all for tonight. It is late. The senator and his family are tired. I ask for your respect.”

“At approximately 11:45 this evening, while returning home from a fundraiser for the senator, Mr. Grady Malendar was in a car accident with what we are being told was a 2010 pickup truck. He was in his Porsche. The accident was a result of the pickup running a red light and hitting Mr. Malendar on the passenger side as he moved through the intersection. Mr. Malendar’s light was green; the other driver was cited at the scene. Mr. Malendar and his passenger were taken by ambulance to this hospital. His passenger, Ms. Samantha Cathner, is a family friend and Mr. Malendar was escorting her home. She has suffered a minor concussion and a broken arm. Mr. Malendar, aside from a cut on his forehead and a few bruises, is unharmed. That pretty much covers it. I’ll take some questions.”

“Were alcohol or drugs involved?”

“No. Well, let me say alcohol and drugs were not involved with either Mr. Malendar or Ms. Cathner. We have no knowledge as to the state of the other driver other than he was unharmed in the accident.”

“Are Grady and this . . . Samantha Cathner, involved, are they dating?”

“No, they are not dating. They are friends, grew up in the same neighborhood.”

“Ha, that’s assuming Grady’s grown up.”

“Not necessary, Bill. If there are no more—”

“Did Grady drink at the fundraiser?”

“Were you at the fundraiser, Kate?” another reporter shouted before she could answer.

“Okay, that’s enough. Mr. Malendar did nothing wrong, period. If you all came down here looking for dirt, I’m sorry to disappoint. In fact, I challenge any of you to find one incident where my client has ever driven under the influence of anything. I thought for a minute I was dealing with news organizations seeking information about the welfare of a U.S. senator’s son following a car accident. Clearly that’s not what’s going on. We’re done here.”

Kate turned amid several more questions about Grady, none of which she hadn’t heard before and of course
the horse
—the horse was still haunting her. Security began pushing back the reporters as the doors zipped closed behind her. She took a deep breath.

“Nicely done. The vultures didn’t stand a chance.”

Kate turned to see Grady leaning against the wall in the darkness of the waiting room, out of sight lines. He was a pro, she knew this, but at that moment, in the middle of the night, looking at him in the darkened corner, she felt . . . she felt something. This was not an easy world he lived in and there were vultures, as he called them, hovering, waiting to attack. It actually felt good to spare him from this onslaught, especially since he was still shaking when she had arrived.

“All part of the job, Mr. Malendar.”

He laughed as she approached.

“Christ, you look awful,” she said and reached to move the hair off his forehead so she could see the stitches. She had brothers, it was instinct, but as soon as her hand touched him, she knew it was a mistake. She was too close and all the warning bells went off. Kate stepped back too quickly and she was certain Grady noticed her discomfort, but he seemed to let it go.

“I checked with Sam and her family. She’s stable and they have the driver of the truck in custody, so . . . ” Kate was rambling because she needed to focus on the job, her tasks, and not the touch of Grady’s face or the warmth in his tired expression. “You should probably get home, get some rest.”

“I know. I called a driver, but I want to wait and see Sam again before I leave. They’re putting her cast on now.” Their eyes held in the dim light of the waiting room.

Kate could still hear the rumbling of the press.

“Thank you,” Grady said. “Your comments, your statement. It’s nice,” he seemed to stumble a bit and Kate’s heartbeat picked up. “It’s nice that you’re on my side, it seems genuine. I mean, I’m sure it’s your job, but the way you handled it was, well, you’re good at what you do, Kate Galloway.”

“I am on your side. It is my job, but I’m a person, you’re a person.”

Grady laughed. “That we are. Thank you, Kate, for noticing.”

She felt foolish and a little lost in his eyes.

“Right,” she smiled. “Well, anyway, you are welcome. I’m glad you’re all right and Samantha is being taken care of. It’s late, so I’ll let you go. I’m going to head home. Good night.” She touched his hand, she had absolutely no idea why, but there she was touching him again.

“You, of course, checked my driving record before offering up that challenge, right?” he asked, breaking the awkward buzz, and Kate released his hand.

“Yup, even the naughty things senators’ sons do that get expunged from their records. You’re squeaky clean. I don’t feed the vultures unless I’m sure. Get some sleep Mr. Malendar.” She continued down the hall.

“Atta girl.”

Kate heard him chuckle as the wood doors of the emergency room closed behind her.

Atta girl? Did I really just get an atta girl?
It was a stupid comment, but she smiled and felt that weird something again.

Chapter Eight

G
rady took a break from the campaign for almost a week following the accident. He was sore, but mostly he needed to focus on some of his things for a while, ground himself in reality. He wasn’t prepared to miss Kate, but he did. Found himself Googling her because he wanted to know more about her, her life outside of work. There wasn’t much to find. He should have known someone like Kate wouldn’t flaunt her life on social media.

Grady walked through the front doors of Bracknell and found himself excited, silly he knew, but there it was, he was excited to see her.

Kate was in her office, so he smiled at her assistant and let himself in. She was reading something and looked up just briefly, and then back again. Grady caught her eyes for a moment and felt his whole body respond.

“Nice to see you, Grady. You look rested.”

“I am. Good as new,” he said walking over toward her desk and standing as close to her as he could without seeming creepy. Still no perfume, he noted, just pastry again. Grady wondered if she stopped at a coffee shop on her way in. Where did the pastry come from? Then he noticed the napkin on her desk.

“Is that Toaster Strudel?” he asked.

Kate looked up quickly, put the last bite in her mouth, and threw the napkin away.

“Yes,” she mumbled before finishing chewing and taking a sip of her coffee.

Grady got closer, leaned in. “You realize that stuff is full of preservatives, right? And it will kill you?”

Kate just stared up at him and licked her finger.

“Are you trying to throw me, Mr. Malendar? Don’t mess with my Toaster Strudel, okay? You think your rich-guy organic-foods-only intimidation routine is going to work with me?”

“Kate, I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Grady said, adjusting his orange tie, and resting one hip on the edge of her desk. Her legs were crossed under her desk and she was wearing black high heels. They were high, and Grady’s mind wandered to them wrapped around . . . Christ, he almost fell off the desk.

“Stop using my name. What’s with that? Cut it out.” Kate swatted at him with a folder. He snapped out of his lust haze and stood back up.

“You don’t like your name?” Grady asked, feigning confusion.

“Very cute. I don’t like you saying my name all the time. It’s . . . odd, like you’re trying to remember my name so you keep saying it, or like you’re making a presentation. Stop.”

“I was raised that you use a person’s name. It makes things personal, puts them at ease.”

“I’m at ease, you can drop it now.”

“Really? This is at ease? Hmm . . . ”

“Yeah, well as at ease as I’m going to get while I’ve got your file in my office. Please sit so we can go over the revised schedule and some of my research.” Grady came around her desk, leaned on the corner closest to her this time, and looked over at the file. She looked right up at him, and he noticed her eyes, while blue, had flecks of green. What was wrong with him that he kept getting this close to her? He was like a stupid moth and she was certainly a flame.

“Do you have a problem with personal boundaries?” Kate asked.

“What? You want to show me what you’ve dug up on me and I’m simply showing an interest.”

“Can’t you show interest on the other side of the desk?”

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Kate?”

She laughed. “Seriously?” Kate stood and brushed right up the front of him, not budging. “No, Grady you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

His breath caught. She smiled and then looked down as she moved past him.
Apparently two could play at this game,
Grady thought.

“I like my space. Let’s move to the table.” Kate suggested as those damn heels clicked past him.

They both sat at the small round table in her office.

“Okay, here is the new schedule for this week. Blue represents your father’s activities and your commitments are in green.” Kate slid two copies of the schedule across the table to Grady. “Any questions?”

Grady shook his head while he read what his week would look like, and then set it aside. “Nope, looks pretty standard.”

“Okay, I have another goal for us this morning.”

Grady put on what Samantha always called his Happy Camper smile.

Kate ignored him. “Mark wants us to put together an ad featuring you, so I need to figure out what that’s going to look like. Tell me about your daily schedule.”

“My daily schedule?” Grady found the novelty of any type of commercial about his life humorous and relied on his sarcasm once again. “Um, okay, well let’s see. I start each morning with a cup of coffee and a quick count of my pile of money.”

Kate looked up from her notes.

“Then I shower, meet some of my entitled friends for a morning of tennis. We retire to some bar or restaurant for food, booze, and loose women. Then—”

Kate was fighting a smile, he could see it, so he finished strong. “We all usually get lucky because after all, we’re so good-looking and loaded. So that leads to dinner, dancing, a quick trip to the jewelry store to buy my soul mate a bauble, and then back to my place for an endless night of passion.” Grady kept a straight face, sipped his water. “That about covers it, now where did you want to schedule in some super-senator’s son time?”

Kate sipped her own water and looked down at her notes, but he saw the corners of her mouth give her away. “Well, that seems like quite a life. I’m just wondering when in all of that gluttony and debauchery you find time to deliver groceries to the Dante House and,” she lifted his left hand, the one that Grady was trying to keep out of sight, “color eggs with the kids that live there?”

“What?” Grady said pulling his hand from hers. Damn egg dye.
What the hell was with that stuff? It was like being branded,
he thought. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. This?” He held up his hand. “This is from my pool.” Grady knew it was weak, but how the hell did she know about the Dante House? Were they having him followed?

“Your pool?” This time Kate let a laugh go.

“Yeah, some kind of reaction to the chemicals. I was testing them yesterday and, yeah I don’t know what happened.”

“Rainbow reaction? Just on your fingertips? That sure is strange.” Kate was still laughing, and pretending to take notes. She put her pen down, folded her hands. Grady knew the jig was up.

“Seriously, this isn’t a joke. I have a job to do here and with all due respect, you’re being ridiculous.”

Grady finished his water and refilled, buying time while he tried to think of something to say. Her gorgeous, full-throated laugh was not helping. Who knew that was in there? It was sexy, and her mouth,
sweet Jesus, that mouth.
Focus you idiot!

“Grady?” Kate said when he came up with nothing but visions of what and where he’d like to see Kate’s mouth. Not helpful at all. He looked up.

“Dante House, tell me about it.”

“I have helped them out a couple of times. I went to college with a girl that got the shit beat out of her by her hailed and celebrated football player boyfriend. I guess I have a soft spot, but it’s certainly not a habit. There’s no need for that to be part of my wind-up son package. It’s private. They’re, as I’m sure you already know, a battered women’s shelter. They don’t need the attention. In fact, it’s dangerous.”

“Okay, but you do need the attention. Is there anything else you do, any other ways you give back?”

“No.”

“Nothing? What about other things, philanthropic pursuits, $500-a-plate feed the children events, maybe?”

“There it is again, Kate.” Grady smiled.

“Right, the bitter me. Sorry. Moving on.”

“You know there’s actually a little undercurrent of self-righteousness in there too. Do you have an issue with money, Kate?”

“No, I do not Mr. Malendar. I was joking. My apologies.”

Grady nodded, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, watching her, because it was quickly becoming his favorite pastime. Kate’s eyes fell to his chest, panned up his shoulders, and he could have sworn he heard her make a little sound. She seemed to lose her train of thought.
Interesting.

“Okay, let’s get back on track here. From what I’ve learned, you give money to the Boys and Girls Club. You also helped out with their field day event at the beginning of this year. It would be great for voters to see you—”

“No. Voters are voting for my father, not for me. Focus on what he does, it’s extensive, and just let me do what I do well.”

“Which is?”

“Smile, shake hands, you know what they say, woo the ladies.”