Countdown

by Julie Cannon

  Andrea had never noticed until now how often Barry used finger quotes. It annoyed her.

  “She’ll probably wear a tux,” he said, obviously disgusted with that possibility.

  “So? It’s definitely much more comfortable than a dress and heels.” She’d thought of wearing one herself, but Beth had talked her out of it. Maybe she’d rethink that decision.

  “So how can you tell if a woman is gay?” Barry asked like a dog with a bone. Did he have a drink or four at lunch? Andrea couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. Sure, they’d run into each other at Target and were off the clock, but for Barry to talk like this? How had this man passed the psychological check? How did he pass the annual diversity-training tests? How had he not been drummed out of here?

  “It takes one to know one,” Andrea said, jumping off the come-out cliff in front of her.

  The look on Barry’s face was one of confusion, understanding, shock, and disgust.

  “And before you say anything else, I’ll remind you that I will crucify and ruin you if you say another degrading, demeaning word about Kenner or any other gay or lesbian you know, want to know, don’t want to know, or that you even suspect is.” She stopped to let her words sink in. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Andrea almost ran into the back of the short, pasty man when he stopped in front of her. She needed to pay attention and have all her wits about her, as her grandmother used to say. She had no idea what exactly that meant, but everyone caught the gist of it. He opened the door and Andrea stepped inside.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  T-minus 00:03:38:15

  Andrea noticed the people immediately. Many she knew, even more she recognized, and she had no idea who a few of them were. Senator Marconi stood near the buffet talking with three men who looked familiar, but she couldn’t put a name to any of them. They weren’t from NASA so they must be other government officials. She didn’t think anyone other than those related to the mission had been invited.

  Flight Commander Jason Albert towered over the first lady to his left, and the first daughter, Rose, stood patiently beside her mother. Rose was taller than her mother and had her coloring, but she looked exactly like her father. A clone of the secret-service agent at the front door stood nearby. Music played softly in the background, and the subdued murmur of voices was occasionally punctuated with laughter.

  Andrea felt eyes on her. It could have been any number of people, but when her skin started to burn and her nipples tightened she knew it was Kenner. She hadn’t seen Kenner yet, didn’t know if she was even here, but her body did. It sensed she was nearby and was preparing for her, already responding in anticipation of her touch, her taste, her scent.

  Her hand trembled as she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. She wasn’t a big drinker, but she definitely needed something to do with her hands. She took a sip and glanced to her left and froze. Kenner was looking directly at her, and even from across the room she could sense the heat in her eyes.

  Real or imaginary, the music stopped and the room fell silent as Kenner’s eyes traveled from her face, slowly down her body, and even more slowly back up again. Andrea couldn’t breathe, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest she thought the tourists on the street could hear it.

  Kenner was impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a teal-green shirt that would bring out the color of her eyes. Her hair looked freshly cut and lay neatly against her head. Andrea had an overpowering urge to walk over and mess it up, like it always had been every time she’d ventured into the control room. She was tall, stylish, hot, and Andrea wanted her.

  The realization of the power Kenner had over her took her breath away. Her pulse roared in her ears with acknowledgement, a deep throb started between her legs, and her body tingled for Kenner’s touch. My God, what was happening to her? She’d been in lust a few times. She knew the signs, but this response was traveling down a road she never knew even existed. Where had she been all her life to have missed this? Her nose had been in a book, her fingers on a keyboard, and her eyes on the screen in front of her. That’s where she’d been, and suddenly she realized it had been a long and lonely road. Kenner started walking toward her, and Andrea felt herself leaning forward to meet her when a hand on her arm stopped her.

  “Hey, Andrea. Can you believe we’re actually here, in the White House?” Tony Douglas said with more than a little awe in his voice. “My daddy would probably box my ears to make sure I didn’t do or say something stupid.”

  “I’ll do it instead,” his wife said, stopping beside him along with several other NASA employees. “The public-affairs lady drilled it into your heads to be polite and act like gentlemen, not the space jockeys you are,” she said, referring to the nickname of the crew. She turned her attention to Andrea. “Andrea, your dress is beautiful.”

  Hearing her name, Andrea blinked a few times to clear her head. Her body, unfortunately, would take several hours to right itself, if she were lucky. “Thank you, Georgia. That’s a beautiful color on you,” she added politely, then looked at the copilot of the shuttle. “You clean up pretty good too.”

  “I can’t seem to take enough showers,” he said. “Fifteen days without one made me even hate myself, let alone anyone within eight hundred nautical miles of me.” Everyone in the group laughed, and no one noticed that her chuckle was forced.

  Andrea tried to follow the small talk in their group, but she tried even harder not to appear like she was looking for Kenner. She’d moved from where she’d been a few moments ago, that much Andrea knew, but other than that she was at a loss. She wanted to find her, go to her, talk with her, hear her laugh, see the sparkle in her eyes, feel her breath on her cheek.

  But Andrea was afraid that when she did find Kenner, she wouldn’t be alone. As far as Andrea could tell, everyone except her had come with a plus-one, and she assumed Kenner had as well. Kenner wouldn’t care what the people in this room thought. She would bring whomever she wanted wherever she wanted, and if that upset anyone, they could just get over it.

  “There’s our magic worker,” Tony said, extending his arm to someone approaching. Andrea knew it was Kenner without even looking. She took a deep breath.

  Andrea had to stifle a gasp as a bolt of heat shot through her. Kenner surely saw it, and her already smoldering eyes flashed before growing darker. Andrea had seen those eyes before. She had seen them hovering above her, her back on her desk, looking up at her from between her legs, inches from her as she made her come against her office door. Oh God, she was going to either melt into a puddle or spontaneously combust if Kenner looked at her like that one second longer.

  Tony introduced his wife before saying, “You here alone?”

  Andrea tried to breathe but couldn’t. She didn’t want to know the answer to the question, so she quickly excused herself, saying she’d spotted someone she needed to talk to. She tried not to run away from the group, but Kenner’s eyes on her back pushed her even faster.

  “Ms. Finley.”

  Andrea stopped when the president stepped in front of her. He held out his hand. “Mark Cummings,” he said, introducing himself like he was at any other party and not the host of the party in the most famous house in the world.

  “Mister President,” she said, acting on instinct. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having us.” God, she hoped she was as coherent as she thought she sounded.

  “The pleasure is mine, Ms. Finley. I’m sure you felt the collective sigh of relief from the American people when the shuttle lifted off the moon, and mine was definitely one of them.” The most powerful man in the world smiled at her. Was his expression genuine or well practiced?

  “Yes, sir, we all did.”

  “I met Ms. Hutchings a few minutes ago.”

  The mere mention of Kenner’s name sent a new round of sparks skimming through her body.

  “Brilliant young woman,” the president said. “She can talk circles around some of the best minds
on my staff.” The president looked over her shoulder, another smile forming on his face. He leaned closer almost conspiratorially. “Don’t tell her,” he said in a false whisper, “but I’m going to try to get her to come over to our side and work for her government.”

  “You’re going to have to do some serious campaigning for that to happen, sir.”

  Andrea hadn’t seen Kenner approaching from behind her, but now she caught a whiff of her cologne. Hundreds of images of Kenner flashed through her mind in the few seconds it took for Kenner to move beside her.

  It had been a long time since she’d seen Kenner, the last time as she had exited the main gate seven weeks ago. She was even more stunning than Andrea remembered or fantasized in her dreams. Her eyes were sharp and piercing, giving one hundred percent of her attention to the person in front of her. Andrea had once been the focus of that attention, and she wanted to be again.

  “I can be very persuasive, Ms. Hutchings. Just ask Congress. But not this week,” the president said jokingly. “That group and I are working out some differences. But we’ll get there. I just need to get them to see what I see, and that takes a little time. All good things come to those who wait, as my father used to say.”

  “Mine did too,” Kenner said. “But as a kid I hated to hear it. I was never a very patient child. I’m still not as an adult, as a matter of fact. It gets me into a few jams now and then, but I seem to work my way out of them.”

  The president laughed. “Well, if you worked for me I could probably help you out of those jams,” he said. “As long as they’re not too big. I have several hundred million people watching me, you know.”

  “Yes, sir. I can imagine that could cramp your style.”

  Andrea was amazed at how easily Kenner and the president were joking with each other. It was like they’d been buddies in college and not the president of the United States and a young, brilliant scientist from Atlanta.

  Kenner was finally alone with Andrea when the president excused himself. She was still reeling from seeing Andrea when she arrived. Breathtaking was the first word that had come to mind when she saw her across the room. Her heartbeat hadn’t yet returned to its normal cadence, and her pulse was still racing. She took another sip of her water, her mouth still very dry.

  Kenner had wanted to drop her drink on the nearest table, sprint across the room, grab her hand, and take her in the nearest secluded place possible. But Andrea was far too elegant, classy, and beautiful for a romp in the East Wing.

  Kenner had known where Andrea was every second. She made the required small talk but had been looking for the right opening all evening to approach her. Finally, when it came, she’d acted like a tongue-tied schoolgirl on a first date.

  God, she had to stop thinking like this. Andrea didn’t want anything to do with her. She had made that perfectly clear on more than one occasion. She’d tried to forget Andrea in her work, her play, and in the arms of a few women. The first was somewhat successful, the second distracting to the point of danger, and the third a complete failure.

  She’d always been able to lose herself in her work, and at times she was able to push Andrea out of her constant thoughts. But more often than not, a particular problem or the way she found herself sitting up straight in her chair brought Andrea back to the forefront of her mind. The still-healing scar on her chin attested to what could happen on the softball field when she’d been caught daydreaming instead of paying attention. And after not being able to touch two very naked and willing women, she’d stopped trying.

  Andrea had gotten under her skin, in her blood, and inside every memory cell. Everything reminded her of Andrea. From the ringing of her phone in the middle of the night to a woman with thick, blond hair. She was afraid to sleep for fear of dreaming of Andrea, yet wanted to because that was the only way she’d ever be close to her again. Then came the invitation from the White House.

  She hadn’t intended to go. She didn’t need to be reminded of what she couldn’t have any more than she needed to have her right leg amputated. But when her boss found out, she’d had no choice, at least if she wanted to stay employed with Quantum.

  Andrea’s dress fell just above the knee and was classic in its design, complementing her curves. Kenner knew next to nothing about designers and fashion, but Andrea had clearly put herself together with care. Her dress floated around her as she walked, and Kenner itched to feel it against her cheek. Her heels were high, making her legs look like they went on for three days. Kenner remembered them bent at the knee as she’d feasted on her. She wanted them wrapped around her waist, her leg, her head. God, anywhere on her body would be heaven. The weather in Washington, D.C. had been unseasonably warm, and Andrea’s shoulders and arms were bare. Her hair was down, her jewelry understated but sparkling in the bright lights. A silver watch reflected the overhead lights, and up close her diamond earrings did the same. A light dusting of makeup and subtle eye shadow accentuated her beautiful face. Was the lip gloss as yummy as it looked?

  She’d dressed carefully for tonight. The last thing she’d wanted to do was embarrass Andrea, especially in front of her boss, his boss, her employees and peers. She’d spent a small fortune on a haircut at a real salon instead of the small cookie-cutter shop in the mall. She’d set aside her boots and had spent another fortune on her shoes after the sales lady at Nordstrom had convinced her they matched the suit perfectly. Class and sophistication were her words, and the way Andrea looked at her now made it all worthwhile.

  “How’ve you been?” she somehow managed to ask.

  “Good, you?”

  “Busy, but good.”

  “How is Atlanta?”

  Andrea’s accent set off a warm rush; she’d missed that Southern drawl. “Cold and getting colder every day.”

  During a long pause Kenner struggled for something to say. When they were together they were constantly sparring with each other, and now they could barely string two words together.

  “You still solving all the problems of the world?” Andrea asked with a hint of a smile.

  Kenner chuckled. “Hardly.”

  “What are you working on?” Andrea asked.

  “Nothing special.” No assignment would ever be special again. “You look incredible in that dress.” Kenner let her eyes drift down Andrea’s body, then back up again.

  “Thank you,” Andrea replied stiffly.

  “Andrea,” Kenner said. She had to say what was on her mind. She had to tell Andrea how she felt. How she couldn’t stop thinking about her, how her body pulsed with desire for her, how she wanted to spend every day of the rest of her life with her.

  “Kenner, don’t,” Andrea said, as if she could read her mind. “We’ve had this conversation, and I thought I made myself clear. I don’t want to have it again, and certainly not here. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Before Kenner could mount her offense it was Andrea’s turn to walk away.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  T-minus 00:00:08:18

  Get out of the room, get out of the room. Andrea forced the cadenced message through her mind as she walked away from Kenner. Her legs felt like they were mired in quicksand, and it took all her strength to keep them moving. Unfortunately for her, it was time for the president’s speech. An aide led her to a set of chairs on the dais, and she was seated far enough away from Kenner as to not have her in her line of sight, though not far enough not to be aware she was only a few yards away. But then again she was certain she would never forget the feel of Kenner.

  Andrea had no idea how long the president spoke or what he said, and when she was told to smile for the camera, she did. It had been a long evening, and she was more than ready to go back to her hotel. She wanted to take off her dress, the one that made Kenner’s eyes burn with appreciation and desire, step out of her shoes, the ones that made her legs look longer and more sexy than they actually were, and slide under the sheets, pull the blanket over her head, and not come out until the pain stopped.

  She�
�d told Kenner no, that she wasn’t interested. It had been the right decision at the time, and after almost two months it was still the right decision. But seeing her tonight had been almost unbearable. Andrea had lost track of how many nights she lay awake in her bed imagining Kenner’s touch, her kisses, her fingers buried deep inside her. How many times had she relived those few short minutes in her office where her entire world had turned upside down? Those moments when she called Kenner’s name in the darkness, her own fingers on her?

  The room started to spin, and Andrea took several deep breaths to steady herself. It would not be good if she fainted right here in the East Room of the White House. She exchanged her empty glass of champagne with a full one as a waiter in starched white passed by. She shouldn’t drink it; she’d already had one too many. She’d told herself to drink only water during this event, especially if Kenner was there. The last thing she needed to do was to lose what little was left of her control in a public setting like this.

  The band had started playing shortly after the president spoke, and several couples were on the dance floor, including him and the first lady. They made a striking couple, and for a moment Andrea was envious of them. To be able to dance with the one you love anywhere, anytime without fear of public repercussions was something she’d never see in her lifetime. Not because gays and lesbians wouldn’t eventually be accepted to the point that it wasn’t a point at all, but because she’d never have someone to love. Not if she kept living like this.

  In the days and weeks since the crew had returned, she’d thought a lot about what she’d worked for and what she’d given up to get here. She had few friends and even fewer lovers, and if it weren’t for Beth, she probably wouldn’t even have that. At times she felt like a social outcast. She didn’t know who was on Dancing With the Stars, who’d won the World Series, or what an episode of Breaking Bad was like. Her bank account was full but her life was empty.