A Political Affair

by Mary Whitney

  “Yeah. Something will bubble up.” Trey grinned at the prospect. “It always does, and Walter’s here to help.”

  Every time she thought of her last date with Stephen, Anne covered her mouth to hide her goofy grin. But her smiles ended on Monday morning when Stephen gave her only a blank glance as he strode past her accompanied by two other senators. Though she hadn’t looked at him with any recognition either, she still felt hurt. She’d hoped for at least a smile or nod. The week before, those little gestures got her through their drought of communication. She became worried.

  He’s never going to acknowledge me unless we’re alone? What kind of relationship is that?

  Shortly after five that evening, Stephen observed her leaving for the day. She’d taken off her heels for the commute home and wore her green Converse. The contrast between her black skirt and stockings with the green low-tops made him smile; it was so her. He had a sudden urge to call to her, but thinking of the consequences, he stopped himself.

  For the first time since he’d taken office, he hated his job. Before he met her, he’d experience bouts of regret followed by acceptance of the choice he’d made. Now, he wished for a normal life. If only I could meet her for a beer after work, have dinner, take her home . . . but I can’t. He shook his head in grim resignation and went to his office for his five o’clock meeting.

  The next day, he planned on catching her eye as he walked by her cubicle, simply for some connection. When he saw her, though, she furtively glanced at him and looked away. He stared at her, hoping she’d raise her head again, but she didn’t. Something was wrong, he thought, and it was his fault.

  Later that afternoon, Anne’s stomach did flips as she followed Megan to her office. She hadn’t expected Stephen to talk to her again, and she worried an impromptu meeting wasn’t a good sign. When Megan closed the door, leaving her alone with Stephen, she smiled anxiously. “Hey.”

  He took her hands and returned the smile. “Hi. You look pretty today.”

  “Thanks.” She touched the knot of his tie. “You always look good.”

  “So do you.” He kissed the top of her forehead. “But you look better when I actually get to talk to you.”

  “Yeah. Um. Why are we talking? I thought we weren’t going to do that here.”

  “Come on. Let’s sit,” he said as he led her to the sofa. When they sat down, he pulled her close. “I was tired of not seeing you.”

  “Yeah. It sucks,” she said with a scowl.

  “Tell me about it. I’ve been thinking it’s only going to get worse. I’m going to Colorado later this week, and then there’s Thanksgiving. We’re going to have a lot of time apart with no way to communicate. And I know it sounds conspiratorial . . . but I think cell phones are risky.”

  “I understand . . . but if one of us is away, it makes more sense that we can’t communicate. I don’t like being here and not talking. I get anxious.” She shook her head. “It’s a very odd situation to be in.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked as he stroked her hair.

  “It’s strange because it’s two different worlds. When we’re together, like right now, we’re so close, but it has this clandestine feel about it. Then out there in the office, we don’t even acknowledge one another, and I can’t talk to you after work either.” She hung her head. “I don’t know . . . I wonder if this is how a mistress feels.”

  “A mistress?” His eyes widened. “You feel like a mistress? That’s the last thing I want you feeling.”

  “Well, obviously not exactly like a mistress.” She gave him an awkward smile. “I mean . . . we’re pretty chaste.”

  “True.” He laughed, before his expression soured. “You know you’re not a mistress, right?”

  “Of course. That was the wrong word.”

  “I’d hope you feel like my girlfriend.” He smirked as if he knew he’d sprung something on her.

  “Ah.” Her breath caught in surprise. She hadn’t expected such a declaration that afternoon, and she grinned. “And I do, when we’re together.”

  “Good.” His smile soon turned into a frown. “I’m a lousy boyfriend, though.”

  “What do you mean? I have a great time with you.”

  “Where should I begin? I can’t pick you up. I can’t take you home. I can’t go out in public with you. Hell, I can’t even talk with you in public. I trap you inside. My family is always around, and I can’t touch you the way I want.”

  “Stephen, it’s all right,” she said gently as she smoothed his hair. “It won’t be like this forever.”

  “But you feel isolated, and I don’t like that. I want you to be happy.” He smiled. “Because you make me so happy.”

  “Of course I’m happy with you. It simply would be nice if we talked during the week.”

  “Let me figure something out.” He leaned in for a kiss. After a sweet embrace, he murmured, “Mmm. You made my day much better.”

  “And you, mine.”

  “Today’s a big day.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Today’s the day I tell Greg about us.”

  “Yikes.” She chuckled nervously. “Let me know how that goes.”

  “Oh, you’ll hear soon enough.” He smirked. “He’ll come talk to you.”

  Just as Stephen predicted, Greg asked to speak with her. She smiled, knowing the topic, but he kept a stern face and suggested some fresh air. Once outside the Hart Building, he led her across the lawn to the Taft Memorial and Carillon, on the farthest part of the Capitol grounds.

  Surveying the area, Anne saw they were alone except for the cars whizzing past them on the street. “You didn’t drag me all the way out here just to show me this ugly memorial, did you?”

  Greg laughed for a moment, but his expression softened into one of a concerned elder brother. “I just need to know one thing. Are you okay with what’s going on with you and Stephen? Is this what you want? Do you want to see him romantically while you work in his office?”

  “Yes.” She nodded stoically.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” she replied, laughing at his earnestness. “I’ve gone into this with eyes wide open. We both have.”

  “Eyes wide open? You know if this turns into a mess, you’ll be humiliated? You’ll be the joke of your law school class or even Jay Leno, for that matter.”

  “I know.” She winced at the thought. “I don’t like thinking about it, but I know it’s a possibility.”

  “But have you thought about your family?”

  “Of course. I’ve considered everything. This didn’t happen overnight. I want to be with him.”

  “Okay . . .” He exhaled and clasped his hands together in obvious relief. “That’s what I needed to hear. I’ll do everything I can to make sure this stays quiet. I want things to work out for you two.”

  “I really appreciate it.” She smiled and touched his arm. “You’re the best.”

  “I’m only doing my job as your friend and your boss,” he said with a warm grin. “You know he’s crazy about you. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

  “I’m pretty crazy about him, too.” She shrugged nonchalantly, but her beaming smile gave her away.

  He shook his head as they started back to the office. “But damn, this is going to be hard to conceal. Stephen and I talked at length about it. You’ve got a good plan. I just wish I could get you off staff—have you go work for someone else in the Senate. But at this point, I’m not sure it would help.”

  “No. Not really. Then the question would be why did I leave?”

  “Yeah, it might even draw more attention. At the moment, there’s no good answer.” He smiled. “Well, I’m an optimist. We’ll work it out. It’s gonna be crazy, though.”

  At the end of the day, Megan asked Anne again to come to her office. Anne was surprised when Stephen wasn’t in the room. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Megan smiled and handed her a cel
l phone.

  “Why are you giving me this?”

  “You are now me, and after this evening, Stephen will be Marco. We’re giving you our cell phones. Marco thought it up this morning.”

  “Oh my gosh, thank you,” she exclaimed and stared at the phone. “This is really kind of you.”

  “I unlocked it, so you should program in a new password. As long as you only dial the numbers I’ve already got in it, no one will be the wiser as to who owns the phone. I’ve got another for work, so the numbers are all friends and family anyway.”

  “This is so sweet of you. It’s been hard not talking to Stephen—this afternoon, I wanted to tell him about my conversation with Greg, but I couldn’t.”

  “And now you can.” She smiled. “Two things, though. The first is you shouldn’t text. That’s still dangerous if anyone were to hack into the phone. And the second is the number for my hair salon is in there. The name of it is Finis, and Joey is my guy. He’s amazing. His number is a bigger gift than this phone.”

  “Thanks.” She laughed. “And no texting makes a lot of sense.”

  “I bet Stephen will call you tonight. It may be late because he and Marco are having dinner,” Megan said with a wink.

  Burma Star, Marco’s restaurant of choice, was nearly empty when Stephen arrived later that evening. The only other party was a large Burmese family sitting at a giant, round table at the front of the restaurant. Stephen spied Marco at a table in the far back; he spoke with a gentleman in an apron who looked to be the owner or the chef. As the man walked away, Marco rose to greet Stephen with a hearty handshake and backslap.

  “Thanks for meeting me here.”

  “Thanks for setting it up. It’s good to see you.”

  After they ordered dinner and were served their beers, Marco relaxed in his chair. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. I want to see if there’s anything I can do to help you and Anne. I feel for you.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. It’s a dicey situation I’ve gotten us into, but . . . I’m happier when I’m around her. I can’t deny that.”

  “It’s obvious you’re really happy, but it’s got to be hard.”

  “It is. We’re trying not to talk at all in the office. You know, so we don’t slip up. But it’s tough because we don’t see each other much.”

  “I thought that could be a problem for you two.” With a smile, Marco reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone. He presented it as Megan had given hers to Anne, minus the hair stylist.

  Stephen was overwhelmed by gratitude. “This is really thoughtful. You’ve outdone yourself as a brother-in-law. Thanks very much.”

  “Happy to oblige. No texting about sex, okay?”

  “No texting at all. Don’t worry about that. Sex or no sex.” Stephen chuckled.

  “So any other problems?”

  “Well . . . now that you’ve brought it up . . . can I ask a favor of you?”

  “That’s why I’m here. Shoot.”

  “Could you and Megan spend the night at the house some time?” He grimaced. “I hate to ask, but I don’t really have any other options. I can’t ask Patty or my mother.”

  A waiter arrived with their appetizers, so Marco didn’t answer immediately. When the waiter left, he smiled. “I understand. We can come over.”

  “Thanks—but I think you need to check with Megan. She won’t approve, and I’d rather not have to persuade her.”

  “I’ll deal with Megan. I love my wife, but she’s not thinking clearly here.” Marco shook his head. “It’s not like her—must be because this is so personal.”

  “I suppose.”

  “She should know this situation is all about perception. If you are found out, it doesn’t matter what you have or haven’t done. You’re cooked either way. Everyone’s going to believe you were doing it.”

  “You’re right about that.” He snickered.

  “In my mind, that means you might as well do what you want. There’s nothing to lose. With all this secrecy you’ve got going on, you two should at least be enjoying yourselves.” Marco raised his glass to toast the sentiment.

  “Sounds damn good to me.” Stephen laughed and raised his glass.

  “When you’re ready, we should plan a weekend at the cabin in West Virginia. It can just be the four of us. In the meantime, I’m happy to help you out whenever. I’ll work on my wife.” Marco chuckled. “And I’ll deal with Patty, too.”

  Late that night, Anne sat in bed reading when an unfamiliar ring came from her bag. Oh my God. It’s Megan’s phone. She scrambled off the bed to get it and saw the name ‘Marco’ on the screen. She answered it with an anxious, “Hello.”

  “Well, hello, Megan,” Stephen greeted her.

  “Hi, Marco.” She grinned. “I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you tonight.”

  “I couldn’t resist.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Their first phone conversation was wonderfully mundane and normal as they caught up on their respective days and the coming week. As the conversation edged away from routine, he was curious about the portion of her life he was excluded from. He first inquired about her apartment.

  As she described her bedroom, she mentioned the patio in the back. He asked for more specifics. “It sounds like an easy entry into your house.” His voice was full of mischief.

  “Um. What are you? A burglar? No, you’re a senator. How do you explain if you get caught sneaking around the back of my house?”

  “Not sure. But it would be fun to try. So what are you wearing?”

  “Excuse me?” She giggled. “I’m not sure Megan would approve of me talking about that on her phone.”

  “There was nothing improper about my question,” he replied with a sexy chuckle. “You could be wearing a snowsuit.”

  “But I’m not.” She was coy.

  “Then what are you wearing?”

  “A tank top and boy shorts.”

  “Like boxers?”

  “Tighter. Like boxer briefs.”

  “Tighter? Nice.” His voice oozed approval. “Hopefully I’ll get to see them soon.”

  “How’s that going to happen? Are you going to scale a wall?”

  “No, little Miss Smartass.” He laughed. “Marco suggested he and Megan go with us for a weekend together at my family’s cabin in West Virginia.”

  “Really? Wow. That sounds fun.”

  “I think it would be. You’d really like it. It’s beautiful out there. Old sleepy mountains.”

  “It sounds lovely.” She grinned at the thought.

  “Or, if we can’t make our schedules work, he offered to spend the night at the house occasionally.”

  “Seriously?” Her eyes widened. She never expected they’d spend the night together.

  “Yeah. How do you feel about that?”

  “It feels a little like we’re getting set up for a conjugal visit, but—”

  “I know. I’m sorry this is so awkward.”

  “You didn’t let me finish.” Her admonishing tone turned into a sweet one. “I was going to say it sounds wonderful.”

  “Oh, good. I was worried you hated the idea.”

  “Are you kidding?” She smiled and sighed. “I’d love to spend the night with you, I’d love to wake up beside you, and I’m sure I’d love everything in between.”

  “I can’t wait,” he said under his breath.

  “Me neither.”

  “All right, sweetheart, it’s late. We should both go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow and call you tomorrow night.”

  She grinned at the thought of another phone call. “Great. Night, sweetheart.”

  The next morning the Senate had early votes scheduled on a Defense Department appropriations bill. Pentagon spending always garnered bipartisan support. Standing in the well of the Senate chamber, Stephen talked with senators about various amendments. The lawmakers spoke in hushed tones, cajoling and even trading votes, though none would admit the latter.

  Not far a
way, Senator Helen Sanders chatted with a few of her Republican colleagues, but her focus was exclusively on Stephen. His smile shone brighter than usual; she wondered why he was so chipper. As she admired his handsome profile, she realized how much she missed their times together. I bet he misses me, too. She bit her lip, remembering their round on his mother’s dining room table.

  When Stephen finished his conversation, she sauntered over and motioned for him to listen. He lowered his head without a word, and she said in a husky whisper, “I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe we should get together again.”

  “I’m just not going to be with you on that one, Helen.” His blank expression told her nothing, and he spoke loud enough for those around them to hear. His response was one that could have been in reference to any of the votes they cast that day. With a polite smile, he pointed toward the door. “I need to get to a meeting.”

  As he walked away, she laughed to herself. He’s playing hard to get. She called out across the chamber, “I’m not giving up, Stephen.”

  Chapter 14

  The following Sunday, Anne caught a cab on Eighteenth Street and gave the driver Stephen’s address. She held her breath as the driver nodded in recognition of the neighborhood and exhaled in relief when he turned up the volume of the Redskins game. He ignored her until he asked for the fare in Stephen’s driveway.

  She stopped herself from laughing as she stepped out of the cab. In gardening togs and a big hat, Lillian McEvoy crouched on her hands and knees in a flowerbed.

  “Hello, Anne. Isn’t it a lovely day? I hope it will be just as nice when these tulips appear next spring.”

  “Hi. It is nice today. What color are you planting?”

  “Oh, lots. These are my favorite.” She held up a brown bulb in her grubby glove. “They’re black. Patrick always thought they were macabre, but I think they’re fascinating.”

  “I bet they look great against all the other colors.” As she finished her sentence, the giant driveway gate automatically closed.