Compromising Positions (17 page)

His eyes narrowed, and he looked above to the 1960s acoustic popcorn ceiling. “Hmm.” He lowered his head and gave his professional assessment. “I’d say that if you work hard, things could go your way. You may still win the vote in the House.”

“That’s good,” I said. That was enough for me.

“And in the Senate?” Jessie asked with caution.

“Sorry.” Chuck shook his head. “You’ll lose there.”

Jessie sighed. “Thanks. You’re probably right.”

“The Senate is a hard nut to crack when it comes to reforming government spending.” Chuck smiled at his dejected dinner companions. “But you two should be happy. If you work hard and win in the House, you’ll have done well for yourselves. You’re both still only in your freshman year. Your stars are ascending.”

“Thanks. That’s kind of you to say,” said Jessie.     

The waiter appeared and placed the check on the table, and I said, “I suppose Jessie and I need to get back to work, so we can fulfill your prediction.”

“Let me get this,” offered Chuck as he reached for his wallet. It was both a gesture of kindness and ethics. Because we were news sources, he needed to pay the tab, and we made small talk while the bill was taken care of. Eventually, we all walked out together.

“I’m taking the Metro. Are either of you?” asked Chuck.

“No, we drove,” I answered, and as soon as the words were out, I realized how it might have sounded—like Jessie and I were on a date. I scrambled to fix it, when Jessie tried to herself.

“Separately—we drove separately,” she said with a chuckle. “Uh… not very environmentally friendly, but we were at different events.”

I wasn’t sure she’d made it any better with that comment as Chuck went back to shifting his eyes between the two of us. Until that moment, I was pretty sure he hadn’t thought twice about the fact Jessie and I were dining alone. Now Chuck’s silence and shifty eyes made me think he was suspicious about why we were having dinner together. Yes, we were colleagues, but only people who enjoyed each other’s company would see each other after a long day’s work. Chuck’s expression was a knowing one. It said we had more in common than just a jointly named amendment on the floor that week. “Well, have a good evening, you two,” Chuck said, his smile growing. “And good luck this week.”

“Thanks very much. Goodnight,” Jessie offered before she turned to me. “Night.”

“Yes. Goodnight.” I smiled at both of them and then sped away in the opposite direction.

It was such an awkward ending to a great evening that I had to call her when I got home. Daisy was begging for a walk, and as the first lady in my life, she took priority. No one was on the streets at that hour, so I decided to call Jessie as I strolled with Daisy. She answered immediately. “Hi, Jessie. I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“No. Of course not. I’m always up at this hour.”

“That’s what I thought—especially with a district on the West Coast.”

“There’s not much ocean front property in Arizona, but yes, it’s the West.” She chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t call it the Left Coast.”

I was glad I took the chance and called her. She always made me laugh. “No way,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because there are a lot of Republicans in every west coast state. I’m not ceding an entire American coastline to a bunch of liberals.”

“You’re feisty at this hour.”

“Maybe so.” I lowered my voice. “Thanks again for coming to dinner tonight.”

“Thanks for asking me.”

“What did you think of Chuck?”

“He was great, and like I said—I think he’s right.”

Daisy walked along, sniffing every blade of grass. I hoped I sounded as casual as she seemed. “I do, too.”

“Don’t worry. I promise to work on the White House first thing in the morning.”

“Thanks, but if we lose this amendment, it won’t be because you didn’t work it hard enough.”

“Or you.” Her voice was warm and soothing.

“Thanks,” I said, guiding Daisy across a street. “I wish the evening hadn’t ended the way it did.”

“Me either.”

I wasn’t sure what she might be referring to. Maybe I’d really screwed things up. My words spilled out in a jumble. “Uh, I’m sorry about what I said… with Chuck… I didn’t mean to imply anything was going on—”

“No, I screwed it up. I made it sound worse than it was.” She was quick to add, “Not that it was bad.”

“It wasn’t bad at all.” I shook my head at myself. I was in such a strange position with this woman. When she didn’t respond right away, I decided to cut my losses. “So, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, definitely. Goodnight.”

~~~

The following night, I wanted to call her again, but I did my best to talk myself out of it. I’d completely botched the call the night before. She probably didn’t know what to make of me beyond our work interactions. We’d spoken throughout the day, only talking about winning the vote. We’d crack jokes and tease each other along the way, but in the end, the focus was always on the amendment.

Scratching Daisy behind the ears, I pushed her over on the sofa so I could have some room. I sighed. I still wasn’t divorced. Calling her for the second time that week at such a late hour seemed to be going one step out of bounds. I was a fool. I couldn’t call her because it wasn’t appropriate, but I continued to fantasize about her, and those thoughts were
completely
inappropriate.

Glancing at my phone one more time before putting it away for the evening, I saw the light blink, signaling an email had arrived. It was from Jeff with the latest summary of the amendment’s whip count. Along with it was a list of those who were confirmed either “yea” or “nay,” and the names of the remaining fence-sitters. While the majority of my Republican colleagues was voting against me, we had marshaled enough votes that if Jessie delivered her side, we would win.

Unfortunately, Jessie was still having trouble getting the White House to back down from their quiet opposition. Jeff’s email was short:
Have you spoken with Jessie again?

Not yet
,
but I will
, I typed with a grin. I had an excuse to call her.

At once, I tapped the screen a few times and lay back on the sofa. When she answered the phone, I tried to be smooth. “Hey, Jessie. Sorry, again, to call you so late.”

“Hi. It’s not late.” She chuckled. “And you don’t ever have to apologize for calling me.”

“Okay.” I grinned. “You also should feel free to call me whenever. I like talking to you.”

“Well… the feeling is mutual.”

“Good.” I continued smiling, but decided not to take it any further. I did have a legitimate work issue to discuss. “So, I just got an email from Jeff with the latest vote count—well, the latest from my side.”

“Really? Great. How’s it looking?”

“Besides the overwhelming majority of my caucus who hates the thought of taking money away from DOD, I’ve got thirty-five solid yes votes, ten gettable ones, and about fifteen swings.”

“Wow. You’ve done well. I’m impressed.”

I wanted to tell her how impressive she really was, but for now I held my ground.

“I’ve been working it just like you.” I chuckled to myself. “And I need to tell you I promised Atkins that if he voted with me, I’d introduce you to him.”

“What? Atkins? He’s like eighty-five!”

“He may be eighty-five, but he’s still a man. He called you ‘a pretty little filly.’ It’s not a term I’d use, but the sentiment is correct.”

“Okay…” She snickered. “I’ll do anything to win this damn amendment, even if it means I have to flirt with a Republican who could be my grandfather.”

“I just want to be there to see it.”

“Great. Don’t worry. It won’t take long.” She sighed. “Anyway. I guess you’re calling for another update from me.”

“If you don’t have any news, that’s fine.”

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t have much to tell you. The Dem swing list really hasn’t changed since we last talked, and I’ve been getting the runaround from the policy folks in the White House.”

“I guess the brass at the Pentagon is putting the hurt on them.”

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “I’ve made a last ditch effort over there though. We’ll see.”

“What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you if it works.”

“Come on. I’m curious.”

“I know, but it’s embarrassing. I was a little over the top.”

“Now I
really
want to know.”

“Just wait.”

“Okay.” I frowned because the purpose of the call had now come to an end. I had my update for Jeff, and the hour was late. It was time to hang up, but I didn’t want to. “I suppose we should call it a night.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

My ears perked up when I heard what sounded like reluctance in her voice. Maybe I could keep her on the line. “So what do you do to wind down at this time of night?”

“After a day like today and facing a similar one tomorrow, it’s hard to find something to clear my mind.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes I watch a movie, but that can keep me up too late. Usually, I read. What about you?”

“I take Daisy for a walk, or I read. I also play the piano.”

“Oh, I’d love to hear you play.”           

“Really?”

“Of course.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say,
Maybe you can come over tomorrow night
, but I stopped myself. That was too forward. Instead, I offered, “Someday. Maybe.”

“Thanks.” Her voice dwindled into feebleness. “I should get to bed now.”

I slapped my forehead with the heel of my hand. She’d taken it the wrong way. I should just be frank with her. “I’m sorry to keep you up. It’s just that I really like talking with you.”

“I really like talking with you, too.” What sounded like a nervous giggle came across the phone, and she added, “So, tell me about when you knew you wanted to be a musician and a congressman.”

“That’s a long story.” I smiled.

“I’ve got all night. Tell me.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jessie

 We won, and it was thrilling. Michael and I walked back to the Cannon building from our victory on the House floor surrounded by well-wishing staff. Trish was especially giddy as she gushed on the phone with Larry. After she had hung up, she announced to everyone, “We’re going out. It’s on Larry. Let’s meet up at Webster’s.”

I looked up at Michael, hoping he would come. “Do you want to go?”

“Absolutely.” He grinned. “Maybe after a few drinks, you’ll tell me how you got the White House to back off.”

I looked away shaking my head, but that quirky smile of his was irresistible. I wasn’t proud of what I’d done, so I tried to shrug it off. “I was annoying.”

“Annoying? What does that mean?”

“It means…” I took a sharp breath. “It means I demanded to speak with the President, and I did.”

“You what? On this amendment?!” His eyes widened as his mouth dropped open. “He’s the Leader of the Free World. You may get a request like that answered once a term—if you’re lucky.”

“I know. It was high risk, and I was annoying. I’m sure I pissed some people off, including the President.”

Of course my gutsy move would cost me, but I’d deal with the consequences another day.

“High risk, but high reward. What did you say?” he said.

“I said I only needed three minutes of his time. When he finally called me, I reminded him of how often he touted my victory in November, and he was about to ruin part of his stump speech.” I chuckled. “After all, my election was one of the only bright spots for Democrats across the country, but I need to get reelected just like anyone else.”

“That’s true.”

“So I told him I needed to win this vote. This amendment couldn’t go down in flames, or I’d be even more vulnerable in my seat than I already am.”

“Makes sense. What did he say?”

“He didn’t hesitate. He said, ‘I’ll take care of it, but you better win,’ and he hung up.”

“And you won.”

His smile seemed to change from teasing to admiring, and his eyes trailed from my face and down my neck. I didn’t need to go out drinking with everyone. His blue eyes checking me out was intoxicating enough. “Correction,” I said, as I touched his arm for a brief second. “
We
won.”

“Yes, we did.” He continued his gaze. “Yes, we did.”

Twenty minutes later, I sat on my office sofa, finishing up the recap of the vote for my parents. They weren’t too interested in the horse-trading that it took to win, but they were proud of the result all the same. At the end of the call, my dad mentioned in an offhand way, “This Michael Grath sounds to be a good man. Do you like working with him?”

“Yeah,” I said, which of course tipped my mom off.

“He’s very handsome,” she said.

“Um, yeah.”

A knock on the door thankfully gave me the opportunity to rush off the phone. When Michael walked in, I smiled and held up a finger, asking for a moment to finish my call. As I put down the phone, I noticed Michael closing the door. I didn’t think too much about it because I was too excited for the night ahead. “Do you want to head to the restaurant together? Trish has her car here. She just went to Drummond’s office to check on something.”

“Sure. I’ll go with you.” He smiled and walked toward me.

At that moment, all I could see and feel was the presence of a supremely happy and devastatingly handsome man who seemed intent upon me. I wanted to touch him, and this time I didn’t stop myself—surely I could hug a colleague on such an occasion. With a small jump, I wrapped my arms around him for a quick hug. Then I immediately pulled away as I said, “Congratulations again. I—”

Michael tightened his right arm around me as he leaned down, and it felt a lot more intimate than a collegial hug. His eyes were still cheerful, but now they focused into a purposeful stare. I clenched the sleeve of his suit coat to brace myself for whatever he had in mind. If I actually considered the situation, I might’ve said I wasn’t ready for it or that we shouldn’t. Luckily, my heart and body would allow no such thoughts. As his hand travelled up my neck, I tipped my head back hoping for what might come next.