by Fiona Wilde
"Thanks, Lois," Jill said and reached down on her desk for some envelopes, which she handed to her receptionist. "If you'd like an early lunch you can leave now if you don't mind mailing these on the way."
"Sounds good to me," said Lois. "I need to stop by the library anyway."
She walked out and after Jill was sure she'd rounded the corner, she shut the door. "Mr. Chadwick," she said with mock formality. "What brings you by?"
"I'll tell you what brings me by, Miss Parmele." He grabbed her Jill and pinned her up against the wall, bringing his mouth to hers in a deep, passionate kiss, which she eagerly returned. "Show prep."
Jill smiled and nuzzled his neck. "Trying to charm the competition, I see," she said. "It won't work. Our relationship won't change my political views."
Chadwick brushed a piece of hair away from her face and kissed her again. "I wish I could say the same for myself," he said. "I woke up this morning kicking myself for not having voted for Clinton. You don't think liberalism is a sexually transmitted disease do you?"
Jill gave a dramatic sigh. "If only it were. I'd go back in time and convert all the men into Democrats before they had a chance to vote for Bush."
Chadwick laughed and then his face grew somber. "I wish we could have lunch together," he said. "This sneaking around is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous but likely necessary," replied Jill, gently nipping his bottom lip. "You said yourself it's too early for us to say anything."
"I'm just not used to hiding," he replied. "From anyone. Or anything."
"Me neither." Jill disentangled from him and walked around to the side of her desk. Noticing the notes for the night's show she quickly gathered them and began putting them back in the folder.
"Don't worry, I didn't come here to copy off your paper, Jill." Chadwick's voice was indignant.
"No, it's not that...." Jill shut the folder and sat down on the edge of her desk. "Brad, I'm sorry. I wasn't implying anything by doing that. I don't know, this is still so awkward with us being political rivals onset and secret lovers off. We still have to keep the two separate."
"I agree," he said. "But I don't expect to be treated with suspicion every time I walk into your office, Jill."
"I'm not," she said weakly.
"This weekend meant something to me, Jill," he said. "And that's not a real easy thing for someone like me to admit. I don't want to be treated like an enemy in private just because we're required to disagree on air." Chadwick walked out, shaking his head as he went. "See you on the set."
For a moment, Jill considered calling after him but thought the better of it. Closing the door, she leaned against it, blinking hard to keep tears from coming to her eyes.
Part III
"Good evening, I'm Brad Chadwick."
"And I'm Jill Parmele."
"And this is Loggerheads."
"In the studio tonight is Calvin Pate, liberal peace activist and longtime resident of Friendsdale, California, whose residents recently took a pledge not to own firearms of any kind." Brad Chadwick turned to the monitor, where the image of a man with a long, frizzled beard, a ponytail and wire-rimmed glasses appeared. "Good evening, Mr. Pate. Thanks for joining us tonight. Now you were one of the people who signed this pledge not to own firearms, correct?"
"That's right, I did."
"And then a rash of break-ins started in Friendsdale. What can you tell me about them?
"Well, they started out small and usually were during the day when folks were at work. And then they just got worse. Some houses started getting broken into during the night when people were asleep and then finally there were two home invasions just on the edge of town. One guy got knocked unconscious in his own living room."
"Do you think your well-publicized gun pledge made you a target, Mr. Pate?" Chadwick asked.
"I don't know, maybe," he said.
"That's not exactly fair, Brad." The camera panned to Jill. "I mean, after all, gun ownership - both illegal and legal - is rampant in urban hubs and look at the crime rates there compared to little towns like Friendsdale. And in fact, the men who broke into the houses in Friendsdale were from the nearest urban city and neighborhoods known for having a gun culture. I think that says something about the differences in values."
Jill sat back, feeling she had scored a valid point.
"Miss Parmele, liberals like you also slapped the same "gun culture" label middle America flyover country where many god-fearing, law-abiding families own guns. Are you actually comparing the majority of these good gun-owning citizens with the criminals who terrorized those people in Friendsdale?"
Jill opened her mouth to reply, but Chadwick cut her off.
"But alright, let's talk about those values if you want," Brad said with a laugh. "Now, Mr. Pate, what happened two weeks ago when you woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of breaking glass? Did you call the police? Did you go downstairs and try to reason peacefully with the thugs who had broken into your house? Or did you reach for the firearm you'd purchased in violation of your liberal pledge and shoot them?"
"You're making it sound like I just went in there gun slinging," Pate said, his voice defensive. "I was scared, OK. I've got a pregnant wife and a kid and I wanted to protect them....I know what I did was wrong."
"Wrong?" Chadwick raised his voice. "Why is it wrong to protect yourself?" He picked up a wanted poster and held it up to the camera. "Did you know one of the guys you put in the hospital is wanted for attempted rape?"
"Mr. Pate, Jill Parmele here." Jill interrupted Chadwick's tirade. "Like me, you've been a life long gun control advocate, correct?"
"Yes, Jill, I have."
"Do you feel the rampant availability of guns forced you into a position where you had to hold your nose and go against your values in order to protect yourself?"
"Exactly!" Pate said, nodding his head. "I felt helpless. And if other people didn't have guns then I wouldn't have had to get one."
"So let me get this straight, Jill," Chadwick shot back. "You think if guns were out of everyone's hands then crime would magically stop?"
"It would prevent a lot of situations like this," said Jill. "People shouldn't feel like they have to arm themselves but thanks to groups like the NRA that push gun ownership like it's some sort of right ---"
"It is a right, Jill, a constitutional right. It's called the second amendment in case you've forgotten."
Jill mentally chided herself for the ill-chosen words. She knew she had lost major points in the debate with that one and moved to recover.
"People shouldn't have a right to own just any gun, Brad. But the NRA..."
"Who says they shouldn't have the right, Jill? You? People like Calvin Pate here who paralyzed a man for life? Has it ever occurred to you that your liberal friend here behaved in a manner directly opposite to that of a responsible gun owner? He bought a gun off of someone else, bypassing the waiting period, left it loaded in his house without a trigger lock and fired it without realizing its power. He said himself he never meant to hurt anyone, and yet he never bothered to take a gun safety course that could have taught him to disable an intruder without putting him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life! Do you know how many law-abiding gun owners and gun collectors there are out there who have never seriously wounded anyone - even in defense of their homes? And yet you and your liberal friends put them in the same class as these thugs that broke into Mr. Pate's home. Shameful."
The camera had panned back to Jill, but the music ending the segment had begun and the light cued her to head into a commercial break. "We'll just have to agree to disagree," she said. "Next up, a look at the controversial Senate race shaping up in Minnesota."
"Nice job, Brad," one of the control men said from the darkness. "It looks like you're back on your game."
Part IV
"Anyone can have an off night." Megan said later when Jill called. "You've been through a lot the last few days, and let's face it - the change in your relations
hip with Brad Chadwick may make it a little harder for you to be as aggressive with him as you'd like."
"It didn't seem to make it harder for him to be aggressive to me," Jill pouted, rubbing Taj's back. The cat had sulked over being left alone over the weekend but finally came around when Jill came home with an offering of fresh salmon. Now he purred and kneaded Jill's tummy through the lap quilt.
"That's just because he's a guy," said Megan. "Guy can be aggressive without feeling guilty or concerned about how it makes someone else feel."
"I've never felt ashamed or concerned," said Jill indignantly.
"Yeah, but you've never been in love," Megan said.
"Who said I love him?" Jill asked.
"I think the two of you are certainly headed in that direction if you're not there already," said Megan. "Trent and I both picked up on some serious chemistry between you two."
"Yeah," sighed Jill. "But I just..."
"Just what..."
Jill was quiet for a moment. "Megan, you don't think Brad Chadwick would be stringing me along just to gain an advantage on the show, do you? I mean, the media has been pretty hard on him last week and having our tiff made public didn't help. Maybe this whole thing - taking me up to see you, the consideration, the sex - maybe it's all been a ploy to undercut me at work."
"And maybe you're so embarrassed with your performance tonight that you're willing to blame anyone but yourself." Megan said.
"Ouch," said Jill. "That was kind of catty."
"No, sis, I'm not being catty. I'm being honest. I don't think your conflict is with Brad. I think it's with yourself. If guys have one good ability, it's the talent for keeping things separate. Brad apparently only treats you as an adversary on the set, but away from it you're his lover so that's how he treats you. If you don't learn to follow suit, I'm afraid that you're going to risk pushing him away and losing a really decent man."
"I have my career to consider," said Jill.
"Well there are more important things in life than work," Megan said and then paused. "Oh, honey, I'm not trying to be hard on you. I just don't want you to use work as a wall to isolate yourself. You've done that for so long. I get the feeling you want Brad a lot more than you're willing to admit. So try to find a balance there, OK?"
"OK," sighed Jill. "Kiss, kiss. Until tomorrow, sis."
"Right back at you," said Megan. "Goodnight."
Jill hung up the phone and closed her eyes. Both Chadwick and Megan had made the same observations about her. She was being mistrustful of him, but why? What was she afraid of? She looked at Taj, who peered up at her through his half-closed lids.
"They're right. I've got to get a grip," she said to the cat. "If I keep this up you're going to be the only man in my life."
Chapter Nine
Part I
Jill threw her head back and opened her legs to Brad Chadwick, surrendering herself to his masterful touch and the demanding lips that blazed a trail down her neck to her breasts. She arched her back and moaned as his mouth latched onto the sensitive tight bud of her nipple.
The agreement to cool their relationship until Shale had been advised of it hadn't lasted long. When Chadwick had called with the simple message, "I need to see you," Jill had relented without argument, not just because she wanted him as well but also because she needed to prove to him - and herself - that she trusted him.
"I'm glad you didn't turn me away," he said against her breast, as if reading her thoughts. "I know we need to be careful but I can't get you out of my mind when we're apart."
"You're sure no one saw you drive over..." The words were out before she could stop them.
"I told you," he said. "No one saw. Don't worry." And then he pulled her legs over his shoulder and buried his face between them, vanquishing all concern from her mind and replacing it with pure, hot rapture.
Later, as they lay together, Jill traced the arm around her with her finger, marveling at the firm muscles under the smooth skin. Chadwick was in very good shape for a man his age, and - to her delight - displayed the stamina of a much younger fellow.
"Hmmm." He breathed into her hair. "I wish we could just sleep in tomorrow."
Jill glanced over her shoulder at him. "You want to stay the night?"
"I am going to stay the night," he said definitively. "You don't think one time with you is going to be enough, do you?" He moved to pull her under him but she pushed away and sat up.
"I don't know if it's a good idea," she said.
"And why not?" While his tone was patient Jill detected an undercurrent that implied he required an answer.
"It's just that, well, we've got a big day tomorrow and I need to get a good night's sleep to prepare for the debate since it's an important one to me," she said.
"Ah, the feminism debate," Chadwick said. "Christ, hon, you could argue your case for feminism with your eyes closed."
"And you couldn't argue against it with yours closed as well?" she retorted.
Chadwick frowned at Jill's sharp tone. "Obviously. We already know where we stand, Jill. So what's the problem?"
"I just don't think I need anything too heavy before this debate - anything that will soften my resolve."
"Like spending the night with me?" Chadwick laughed. "Good Lord, Jill, so now spending the night with the man you love will act as some sort of Kryptonite to your Superwoman argument? I always knew feminists were paper tigers but this is ridiculous."
"No, that's not what I'm saying," Jill retorted. "And feminists are not paper tigers!"
"No, you're right. Calling you a paper tiger is giving you too much credit. If you fear a night of lovemaking is going to addle your wits then we'll have to use another descriptor."
He paused. "What's weaker than paper?"
"All right. That's it," said Jill. "This conversation is over." She got up from the bed. "I'm not going to sit there and be insulted. You need to leave."
Chadwick sat up on the edge of the bed and smiled. "So make me."
"What?" Jill looked at him, dumbfounded.
"I'm not going to be turned away from the bed of the best-looking, most exciting woman I've ever met simply because she's in a snit, especially now that I've officially claimed her."
Jill's eyes widened. "Did you say 'claimed' me? What am I now? Real estate?"
"No, you're a woman in need of a strong man to lay down the law to her. And I'm telling you that unless you can find a way to get me to leave you'll have no other option but to bring your ass over here right now. And let me add that your little outburst has earned you a spanking. I told you when we first got together that I'm not going to be ordered around, ordered out or anything else. The sooner your learn the consequences for that, the better."
"Well, in that case we don't have a relationship," Jill said.
Chadwick ignored her. "That's another call you're not qualified to make."
Jill threw up her hands. "Oh great. Now I'm not even qualified to decide if I want to be with you. Oh that's rich."
"No richer than your attempt to send me away from your bed over some childish fear." he crooked his finger at her. "Now get over here, Jill. Don't make me come get you."
"Go to hell," Jill shot back, pulling on her sweat pants. She had just donned her tank top when Chadwick rose from the bed. He was on her in two strides, his long arm around her waist as he pulled her back to the bed.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.
"I told you," he said calmly. "You're getting a spanking. I'm not going to put up with your bossy dramatics."
"No!" she said, but he ignored her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled her over his lap, hooking a finger in the waistband of her pants and sliding them down to reveal the firm globes of her bottom.
Jill's hand shot back in an attempt to stop what was coming, but he just laughed. "You should know by now you can't stop me if I decide to spank you." He grabbed her wrist and trapped it at the small of her back. "I think that your attitude calls for a b
it more severity, Jill."
He reached then for the flat-backed wooden hairbrush on her bedside table. Jill's eyes widened in horror. "NO, Brad! You can't!"
"I can and I will," he said and began to spank in a determined pattern. Left buttock, right buttock, left buttock, right buttock - the smacks fell with solid regularity, landing smartly on target each time despite Jill's vain attempts to squirm away from the pain.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" she cried. "Please stop, Brad. I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"
Chadwick stopped, rubbing the surface of her burning bottom with his broad hand. "What are you sorry for, Jill?"
"I-I don't know!" she cried out honestly.
Chadwick leveled another volley of smacks at Jill's already punished bottom before stopping and pulling her closer to him, holding her tightly as she sobbed into the bedcovers. "Well let me help you," he said. "You don't trust me, Jill. You seem to think that if you soften up and allow yourself to get comfortable with a dynamic we both want then that will somehow weaken you. What's more, I have to wonder if you think I'm pushing this as some sort of strategy to weaken you." He smacked her hard across her bottom. "Do you have any idea how insulting and self-centered that is?"
Jill flinched and wailed at the impact of both the blow and his words. He'd hit a soft target - in both instances - and they both knew it.
"You're right, Brad," she sobbed. "But I've never had to trust anyone beyond myself and I don't know if I can do it!"
Brad turned her around and pulled her into his lap. "Maybe it wouldn't be so hard if you'd just stop fighting, Jill." He tipped her face up to his. "I love you."
Jill blinked but said nothing, absorbing the words. Two more tears welled in her eyes, but this time not from pain. With a cry she threw her arms around his neck. "I love you, too," she said, and meant it. Brad Chadwick, she knew, was just what she needed and the only barrier to her happiness with him was the suspicion she felt of all men. She told him this as she lay nestled in his arms and he sighed and kissed her head.