Compromising Positions

by Mary Whitney

  Trish stepped in front of me, gave me an amused look before she turned to Jessie. “I’m getting tired. Larry and I are leaving. You’ve got a hectic day tomorrow. Want to come with us?”

  Looking up from her conversation with an intern, Jessie saw it as a loaded question. Her reply was calm. “I’m doing okay. You go on. I’ll just catch a cab.”

  “Oh no, Congresswoman,” Jeff said, leaning around the staffer at his side. “I’ll give you a ride.” He then pointed to me. “Or the Congressman will.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Jessie said with a frozen smile.

  “Thank you, Jeff,” Trish said, though she was quick to stare at Jessie. “It’s nice of you to see her home.”

  Larry patted me on the shoulder. “Congratulations again on that vote. Come by this weekend. We can watch some baseball. You’re a Cubs fan, right?”

  “Yes, I’ve signed up for a lifetime of disappointment. Thanks for the invitation.” I smiled. “See you then.”

  As they left, I sat down at the table with Jeff and Jessie, but I waited to speak with her. I wanted to talk with the least number of curious ears privy to our conversation. When two more staffers left the table, I wasted no time. I caught Jeff’s eye, while he was in mid-sentence of another conversation and he acknowledged me with a slight nod. Jeff understood I wanted to speak with Jessie alone, and it was his job to see that I could. There was a staffer sitting next to Jessie, and Jeff said, “Carson, I can’t hear you. Can you move over here?”

  Carson dutifully moved closer to Jeff, and I slid into his place, sidling up to Jessie as she sat alone on a long bench. We were tucked away in the back of the restaurant, and though we had the cover of sitting at a table with multiple staffers, we could have a conversation in relative privacy.

  “Hi,” I said, straddling the bench so I could properly see her.

  Her mouth dropped a bit as if she wasn’t sure what to say, but her eyes told me what she was thinking, and it had everything to do with our romp on her office couch. “Congratulations again, Congressman,” she said with a smirk.

  I knew she probably wanted to keep the subject a professional one, but her pretty smile was too tempting not to tease. When I glanced down at her starched white shirt, I saw the faintest outline of the lace of her bra. Only a few hours ago, I’d moved it aside to see her beautiful breasts. I stared into her dark eyes which were both bashful and knowing. That was it. There was no way I was going to waste a semi-private conversation on an amendment.

  “Thank you.” I said as I raised my pint of beer. As she clinked her glass to mine, I added, “But what exactly are you congratulating me for?”

  “I’m congratulating you on the amendment, of course.”

  “Oh, yeah… that.”

  “What else should I be congratulating you for?

  I leaned in and whispered, “Finally working up the courage to kiss you.”

  “Oh, that.” She glanced over at the rest of the table who now were completely entranced in Jeff’s story of how he got to meet Bruce Springsteen once.

  “You’re going to make me feel bad if you tell me you’ve already forgotten,” I said.

  “I haven’t forgotten.” She briefly touched the neck of her blouse and smiled. “I don’t think I’m over it yet, actually.”

  From her expression, I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or being coy, or both. It didn’t matter. Honesty was the best route for me to take. I didn’t want to play games with her. “I know I’m not over it yet.”

  Straight talk worked. She stared at me as if she might pounce on me again right there in the restaurant. Then she grinned. “What were we thinking?”

  “Trish was right. We weren’t.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “I certainly wasn’t.” I laughed, running my hand through my hair. “But when she walked in, it was exactly like high school when my girlfriend’s mother caught us in the guest bedroom.”

  “Oh yeah? How bad was that?”

  “Really bad. I was in shock—first seeing Mary Catherine’s mother, who was irate, and then seeing our school uniforms scattered on the floor. They were evidence.”

  “Wasn’t there evidence enough because you were naked?”

  “We weren’t fully naked, yet.”

  “A school girl?” Jessie twisted a strand of hair as her voice was taunting. “Stereotypical male fantasy.”

  “I don’t think it’s really fantasy material if you’re both in high school.” I took a sip of beer. “Now, say if you were in a little plaid skirt and—”

  “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Just fantasizing aloud…” I smiled as my voice trailed off.

  “So what happened with the girlfriend?”

  “Her mother called my mother. Then we were both grounded—though I could tell my dad didn’t mind what happened.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about Trish calling my mother. She knows my mother would be fully supportive.”

  “She would?”

  “Yeah,” she said in a quiet whisper, as she looked down.

  How could this woman be so wanting for male attention? I wanted to touch her, to ease her mind, but I couldn’t, not there. Considering what to say, I opted for humor. “I don’t think we should do it again.”

  “Oh?” Her voice was hesitant.

  “Not like that and not yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I leaned toward her, lowering my voice even more. “I want to take you out first.”

  “You do?” Her smile returned.

  I answered with a silent nod.

  “That’s very nice of you. I’d like that, but right now we can’t go out—unless it’s like this,” she said with a wave of her hand toward the others at the table.

  “I know.” I grimaced. I leaned on the table like I needed support, which I did. “But I want to take you out. We could go to the symphony, out to dinner, maybe go for a run. I want to do that.”

  “It sounds fun. I want to spend time with you, too.”

  Reality soured my mood, and I mumbled, “This divorce has got to go through. My life is on hold.” I took a deep breath and smiled. “And I want to see you.”

  “I…” She stopped as if withholding what she really wanted to say. “That would make me happy, but even when you get the divorce, shouldn’t you wait? Shouldn’t you spend some time alone? Wouldn’t that look better?”

  “Better for you or me?”

  “Well, I bet Trish and Jeff would say for both of us.”

  Politically, it made sense for me to be alone for a respectable amount of time after the divorce. That way, it wouldn’t appear that I was cavalier by jumping from woman to woman. Besides, I didn’t want Jessie looking like she was with some guy who behaved that way. Emotionally, it was heartbreaking to think of waiting around for an appropriate time to get the world’s approval. “They’d be right, but I don’t care.”

  “I don’t really care either,” she said, with some relief. “I think we would get through it.”

  “I know we’d get through it.”

  Neither of us spoke for a moment as we held each other’s gaze. Then Jessie checked her watch. “It’s late.”

  “It is, and we have a press conference first thing in the morning.”

  “We do.”

  As much as I hated losing a golden opportunity, I nodded toward Jeff. “Let Jeff take you home. I don’t need Trish pissed at me any more than she already is.”

  Jessie smiled. “That’s smart thinking, but I told you she’s more pissed at me. And if she knew I literally threw myself at you...”

  Making sure no one could hear, I leaned in close and whispered, “It’s not like I didn’t walk in there with every intention of kissing you and anything else I could get away with.”

  Jessie’s eyes bugged out, but then she composed herself with a soft laugh. At first I thought she was going to ignore me. She turned to Jeff to say something about work, but while they talked
about next week’s floor schedule, her hand sneaked up my thigh, giving it a good squeeze before she brushed against my junk.

  I snorted in surprise, and she just turned to me and said in a whisper, “Oops.”

  ~~~

  Early the next morning, I kept checking the time on my laptop’s clock, waiting for a semi-reasonable set of numbers to appear so I could call my dad. I figured I needed to at least wait until six Central Time before I could wake him. When the clock hit one minute after six, I dialed the house.

  “Yes?” Mom answered in a hesitant voice. The family had caller ID on the house phone, but the timing of my call had to have confused her. “What is it Michael? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, Mom. I’m just returning dad’s call from last night. I wanted to talk before my day got too crazy.”

  “Oh, that’s right! He called you when you won your amendment. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see the debate, but he told me all about it. Congratulations, Son. That’s very impressive.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. You know there’s no way it will become law, but it’s nice to win one.”

  “I’m sure it is. Now, tell me…” she said, as the creak of her heirloom rocking chair could be heard through the phone. I curled my upper lip in annoyance at the sound. It meant she was settling into a long conversation, but I hadn’t called to talk to her. I wanted to talk business with Dad. “What Mom? I don’t have much time.”

  “Just give me a second. I’ve been waiting to find out how you liked working with Jessica Clark.”

  “It was good. She’s very effective.” It was stupid of me to think that would end mom’s snooping.

  “Of course, she is, but how did you like being around her all the time?”

  “Mom…” I rolled my eyes. “I know what you’re getting at, and all I’m only going to tell you that I enjoy her company.”

  Her voice became sharp. “You realize that you’re still married in the eyes of the law and the church?”

  “Of course.” My voice lowered into a mutter, “I’m painfully aware of that.”

  “Good. I’m glad you remember.”

  “But things will be different soon.”

  “Well, yes… but you don’t want to jump into something.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck as I considered what was obviously good advice. In my gut, though, I knew being with Jessie was a good thing, just as I knew in my gut, Stacy was a bad thing. Given the political ramifications and how much I liked Jessie, I decided to be honest. After a moment I said, “I don’t see it as just jumping into something.”

  “Oh, Michael,” she said, in the voice she always reserved for pity. “Are you sure? You could get hurt as could your career. Isn’t it better to wait?”

  That made me laugh. “She said the same thing just a few hours ago.”

  “It’s reassuring she thinks that.”

  “Can I talk to Dad now?”

  “Oh, all right. You don’t want to tell me anymore. That’s fine.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  A minute later, Dad came on the line. “Congratulations, Michael.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “A win is always nice, but I was just as impressed with the debate on the amendment. You handled yourself very well.”

  “It did go well, but I couldn’t have done it without Jessie.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself before I got to the real point of the phone call.

  “So she got the White House to stand down?”

  “She did.”

  “Good for her. I hadn’t seen her speak until last night. She’s a great speaker.”

  “She is.” I didn’t want to get trapped into talking about Jessie, but knew it was inevitable. I cleared my throat. “But Dad, I actually was calling to let you know I’m going to give in to Stacy.”

  My father exhaled and released a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “I knew this was coming.”

  “It’s time to move on.”

  “If you hold out longer, you could get a better deal. You know that.”

  “Of course, but I’m tired of this hanging around my neck.”

  “I don’t like that you’re giving in to her, but I understand why you’re doing it.”

  “Good. I’ll call Mark to draw up the papers for the settlement and then we’ll work up a media strategy when we give the settlement to the court. There will be a lot of press around that.”

  “Okay.” Dad had waited a few seconds before his voice took on a concerned tone. “I overheard your conversation with your mother.”

  “And?”

  “I’m wondering how long you plan to wait to see someone else. After all, it’s going to take some time for the court to approve the settlement.”

  “Six months. I know. And if Mom had it her way, I wouldn’t see anyone until the Vatican annulled my first marriage.”

  “So will you wait?”

  “Absolutely not. People don’t expect that anymore. The court approval is simply a formality, and the marriage annulment is something I’ll do for Mom—not because I believe in it.”

  Dad chuckled. “So you’re really taken with this Jessica Clark? I’ll admit from what I’ve seen, I like her, even though she is a Democrat.”

  I smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

  “But Michael, if you’ve been exhausted by the media scrutiny from the divorce, just wait until the world finds out that you’re dating another member of Congress—before your divorce is finalized—and a Democrat to boot.”

  My stomach churned at the thought of more media intrusion into my world. Now that I was in Congress, a public personal life was something I was going to live with. “That is something to consider, but I’m not going to worry about it right now.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Chuck

  Later that morning, Chuck Benjamin shuffled through security at the new Capitol Visitor Center. The noisy crowds caused him to lower his head. He normally wouldn’t even be in the building, but he’d decided to drop in on the press conference being held by Congressman Grath and Congresswoman Clark. Because the television and radio studios were in the Visitor’s Center, Chuck was forced to mingle with hundreds of school children and gawking tourists in order to get to the right room.

  It was also rare for Chuck to attend a press conference. He was a distinguished reporter who didn’t have to get his news en masse. Chuck was used to receiving information early and often, in privileged, private meetings with legislators and staff. But after his dinner with Michael and Jessie, he felt some friendship for them and wanted to see them bask in the glow of victory—no matter how meaningless the victory would ultimately be.

  When he walked into the studio, the press conference had already begun, and the only available space was on the far side near the podium. Excusing himself as he navigated through other reporters to the open spot, he still kept his eyes on the speaker. Jessie was taking questions one after the other, giving perfectly canned answers.

  Because of his short height, Chuck had a poor view when he reached the open area. He could only see the bodies on stage, but not their faces. Yet, as he stood there listening to their words, he studied their body language. It was then he noticed something no one else in the room did. Michael’s body movements and gestures interacted with Jessie as a man did with a woman he cared for. He never touched her, so it wasn’t obvious. Yet his hands and arms were always there, guiding her around the stage, gesturing if something needed to happen, and above all guarding her if someone came too close. Chuck studied Michael’s body language and Jessie’s positive response. She was never far from his side. Chuck mulled over the evidence which bolstered the circumstantial guess he had when they’d met the other night. Is something going on between them?

  Though he listened to the speakers, he couldn’t stop wondering if he was right, and when the press conference ended, he was disappointed that he still wasn’t sure. Like all reporters, there was a need to k
now, but what made him different was his ability to find the truth. Journalism was a career that defied the adage that hard work always paid off, because no matter how hard a reporter worked, the journalist still needed to be in the right place at the right time. In the end, even after a reporter had prepared himself, success only occurred by luck.

  That day, fortune smiled on him because his shoelaces were often untied. A stray lace caught his eye as he started to leave the room. After he had kneeled down to tie the shoe, he lucked out. He alone had an awkward view of the stage, and he alone saw the conclusive evidence.

  Hidden from sight of everyone else in the crowd, and for only a moment, Michael clutched Jessie’s left hand with a confirming squeeze. Jessie responded by grazing her right hand over their clasp. They immediately dropped their hands and moved off the stage.

  Chuck slowly stood up and watched them exit the side door at the back of the room. Enjoying the moment of confidence he always had when he guessed correctly, he smiled. He meant Jessie and Michael no harm. Their secret was safe with him, but as with every bit of information he discovered in his work, he knew it would prove useful one day.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jessie

  A few days later, I heard a knock on my back door. Checking the kitchen clock, I noticed it was a little after six, but the time really didn’t matter. I’d accept a visit from Trish whatever the hour, and it wasn’t unheard of that our first meeting of the day took place at my tiny kitchen table. Severus looked up from his morning meal and meowed. It was just a reminder not to forget about him.

  “Morning.” I said as I ushered Trish in and Severus out. “How are you?”

  “He’s divorced.” She strode in, cell phone in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.

  “Excuse me?” Though I understood who the “he” was, I was surprised Trish knew anything.

  “I just read it on a gossip site.” Trish took a seat and stretched out her long legs, clad in running tights. Her face was still flushed from her daily jog.