Compromising Positions

by Mary Whitney

  “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.

  “Congratulations are in order,” he said before lowering his lips to mine for a long kiss.

  The kiss felt so natural that it had taken a few moments before my mind wandered away from enjoying the intimacy. The first distraction was when I realized I was kissing someone for the first time in a long time. Why was that? That required far too much emotional analysis, so I skipped that thought. Then I realized I wasn’t just kissing any guy. Oh, my God, I’m kissing Michael. My smile drew my mouth wide, and Michael pulled away. With a twinkle in his eye, he smiled down at me. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t either.”

  His smile remained, but his expression became determined again as he lowered his lips to kiss me again. “And now I don’t want to stop.”

  “I don’t either,” I said, meeting his kiss.

  What I had meant was I didn’t want to stop kissing, but my body had a different interpretation. It didn’t want to stop at just kissing, not when it was this close to something it had wanted for months. His scent had all its pheromones working on me. I couldn’t stop nature.

  My body melded to his, and he responded by leaning into me further and tightening his hold. It was a state of comfortable temptation. Everything felt easy with this man, yet I only wanted more, and he did, too.

  A small groan escaped the back of his throat, and his arms left their hold long enough to take off his suit coat. I did the same with my jacket. When we embraced again, neither of us seemed interested in holding back anymore, and the kisses and movements intensified. I felt a setback when his lips left mine and landed on my chin, but the disappointment soon faded when he kissed my neck before traveling down the small ‘v’ of my blouse. It had been a while, and a man’s mouth anywhere near my breasts sent me into another world. Pressing against him with my hips, I could feel him getting hard which seemed to set everything in motion.

  All of a sudden he picked me up, walked the few steps to the sofa, and placed me on it, all while barely breaking our kiss. Seconds later we were both lying on the couch, him over me. While he kept his weight from crushing me, I could sense his muscles, and I touched his chest to feel his strength. He groaned again and the next kiss was fierce.

  Thoughts drifted through my mind, carrying with them concerns about making out with a colleague—a Republican one at that— in an open office with an unlocked door. I told myself the building was empty, and there was nothing to worry about. A vision of a horrible headline in the next day’s Final Tally newspaper struck me with momentary fear, but I dashed that thought immediately. I was enjoying myself too much to worry about what most likely wasn’t going to happen. What was happening was that I was kissing Michael.

  Seizing the moment, I let my hand follow along the muscles of his back beyond his belt. I pulled him closer as I raised my hips to his. That was all the encouragement Michael needed. I felt his hand reach beneath my skirt, and despite my stockings and panties, he found just the right spot.

  Things moved quickly after that. With one hand making me moan, he broke our kiss and used his other hand to undo my blouse. He pulled the lace of my bra just under my right nipple, and his voice was rough as he said, “My God, you’re beautiful.”

  I could’ve responded with a thank you or something about how handsome he was, but neither came to mind. Instead, I was blunt. “I want to feel you,” I said as I slipped my hand down to his large erection straining inside his suit pants. I touched him for only a moment because he removed his hand from between my legs and hiked up my skirt. I understood exactly what he wanted, so I wrapped my legs around his waist and wantonly ground myself against his hard dick. “Oh, man…” he groaned and more fully answered with a series of thrusts that made me want to lose every bit of fabric between us.

  In the back of my mind, I realized the dry sex would eventually lead to the real thing, and I didn’t have any contraception. I couldn’t worry about that now and was too busy concentrating on the orgasm that was about to hit me.

  Just as I was about to reach the end, the door to my office opened with a loud crack, and then everything seemed to happen simultaneously. “Jessie,” Larry’s voice said from across the room.

  Michael and I froze while Larry said in a shocked voice, “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

  We looked at Larry, who had already turned his head away as he began to close the door.

  Trish’s voice came from behind him. “What’s going on in there?”

  I closed my eyes in dread and straightened my bra at once. When I opened them, Michael began to move off me. With a look of sincere chagrin, he said, “Sorry.”

  Larry hadn’t finished closing the door, and I could hear him answer Trish with an unconvincing lie. “Oh, she’s on the phone.”

  “Why did you say, ‘Oh, shit’?” Trish asked.

  Then the door was already opening as Larry said, “Don’t go in there.”

  “Why not?” The door swung wide open, as Trish demanded, “What’s going on?”

  She took a half step in but then stopped in shock. There I was desperately trying to button my blouse, while Michael was backing away from between my legs. Holding up her hand as if she saw a blinding light, Trish closed her eyes. “Oh, my God. Are you two insane? Anyone could walk in on you, including a reporter.”

  “I didn’t think anyone was here,” I grumbled and pointed to the door. “Do you mind?”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t want to stick around,” Trish said, barely able to control her laughter. “Just get yourself together—both of you. You’re due at the restaurant. You’ve probably forgotten your staff is waiting for you.”

  Trish walked out with a giant grin on her face, and she shut the door, leaving only a small crack. Michael and I both kicked into high gear, adjusting clothing, fixing hair, and donning
jackets. The whole time Michael tried to apologize to me, but I wouldn’t hear of it. “You can’t apologize. I was an equal participant.” I blushed, looking down as I buttoned my suit coat. Actually, more than equal.

  “All right,” he said, grazing his hand over my shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Later.” I smiled.

  “Trish would probably kill me if I gave you a ride to the restaurant.”

  “Kill you? Kill me, is more like it.”

  “No, I think she wants to kill me as well.”

  “Maybe.” I smiled. “She’s more likely to snitch on you to Jeff.”

  Michael laughed and shook his head ever so slightly as if he were thinking something he didn’t want to say. “That would be bad. Even a hint and he can sniff something like this out.”

  As we walked out of my office, Larry sat in the reception area, reading the paper. Trish looked up from her phone. “So far only the AP has written about the amendment. We should have a press conference tomorrow morning.”

  “We should.” Michael nodded and started for the door. “Right now, I’m going to get my things. See you at the restaurant.”

  “Yeah, man, let’s catch up when we’re there,” Larry called from his chair.

  As Michael left the office, Trish smirked. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.”

  Larry glanced at me, patting my hair down and looking like a teenager being caught by her parents. He gave Trish a sour look. “Be nice, Trish. Nothing bad happened. They were only caught by us. Besides, I like them together.”

  “True, I’d like him a lot more if he was already divorced,” said Trish.

  “I would, too,” I said in a weary voice. “Now, can we just get going?”

  “Certainly,” Trish said and gestured toward the door.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Michael

  As the night’s events wound down at the restaurant, the crowd of happy staffers began to thin, and I finally had an opportunity to talk to Jessie. Since we’d arrived, we’d both spent all their time with our staff. Now, she conveniently sat at a table with Jeff and only a few others. I gave a pat on the back and said goodbye to one of my best legislative assistants and moved toward Jessie.