Candidate: A Love Story

by Ewens, Tracy

  “Three and a half months.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Three and a half months, that’s what’s left of our working relationship. Election Day and then we no longer work together.”

  Kate tilted her head to look at him. “Okay, right, well you said it. We have three and a half months and it’s great that we are getting along, but this can’t be whatever, whatever that look, that thing you did with your eyes— It just can’t be.”

  Grady seemed to be trying for hurt or put off, but he quickly had a smile on his face.

  “Yeah, that too,” she pointed to his expression. “That ‘Isn’t Kate entertaining’ smile. Cut that out too.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that you’re kind of dazzling tonight, I mean really, flushed cheeks and out of your comfort zone gorgeous.”

  Kate looked toward her car. “I’m not uncomfortable,” she said barely above a whisper, walking to the driveway.

  Grady stepped closer to her, but this time kept his distance.

  “Where the hell did I park?”

  Grady took her keys out of his pocket and held them in his open palm.

  “The valet closed up about an hour ago and left the remaining keys with us.” Kate took her keys from his hand and damn it all, she could feel the pulse. It was as if he was plugged in somewhere. She had never felt that kind of energy. It was time to leave.

  “Right, okay, great.” Kate spotted her car parked at the end of the circular drive. “So, this was—” she looked toward the house, anywhere but at him, because Grady was staring right at her with his soft evening, just-been-to-a-carnival eyes, and she couldn’t take it for one more minute. “This was great, a huge success, and I think we—”

  He was smiling at her again.

  “Oh Christ, I’m going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

  “No!” she snapped and he laughed. “No. Thank you, Grady. I can find my way to the end of the drive. Even one this size.” She smiled and turned to leave before he offered or said anything else.

  “Kate?”

  Dear, God. Please get me to my car before I jump this man and ruin my entire career and destroy my poor sad healing heart. God, are you listening?

  Kate looked over her shoulder. Grady had his hands in his pockets and the light of the moon was on them both, painting the scene as if what was coursing through her body needed any more encouragement.

  She tried for casual. “Yeah?”

  “I had a great time.”

  She stopped walking toward her car and turned to face him. It was such a simple thing to say, but that was just it. Grady never did anything the simple way. Standing there in the moonlight, he had a good time, no a great time.

  Kate smiled, certain she was a safe distance away. “I did too. It was great. Thank you.”

  “Any time.”

  Kate turned toward her car again.

  “Hey, Kate.”

  She turned again, still smiling. “Yes, Grady?” she said playfully. Lord, she thought she’d forgotten how to be playful.

  “Will you, by any chance, be wearing those shorts to the office tomorrow?” And the real Grady was back. Kate laughed, shook her head, and kept walking toward her car.

  “No?” Grady called out into the night. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Good night, Ms. Galloway.”

  “Good night, Mr. Malendar,” Kate said into the night, and got into her car.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week later Grady was on the Metro Gold Line heading toward Boyle Heights. He wore faded jeans, his favorite boots, a sweatshirt, and his beat up Dodgers cap pulled down over his eyes. Grady had perfected the art of blending in, disappearing if need be. When he was younger, he used his skills to sneak out of the house, or go to a music festival his parents forbid. Now that he was older, Grady used his covert skills to fly under the radar, to do things he didn’t want anyone to see. It was really easier than people thought. No one would expect to find Grady Malendar, playboy, senator’s son, on the Metro, let alone emerging from the Mariachi station. That’s exactly how he wanted it. They had no business knowing where he was going. Since the start of his father’s campaign things had become a bit more difficult, but Grady liked a challenge. He saw it as a game.

  People exited and entered the railcar at each stop. Grady sat in a corner and read. Lately he was into the Ottomans, so he was half way through 1453, a book about the holy war for Constantinople. Very few books gave a detailed description of the actual battlefield during one of the most important wars of the Middle Ages, and Grady wanted the details, craved them. He noted he had three more stops, so he finished up the chapter he was on, slipped the book into his backpack, and stood, holding the cool metal railing for balance.

  Today was an important day. It had been a long time coming. He wouldn’t participate because thankfully, it wasn’t about him. He would arrive early, as always, and be gone long before the media and the crowds showed up. Today Grady felt normal. It was a privilege that had escaped him most of his life. He understood the benefits of his birthright, and certainly wouldn’t want to be poor, but he often longed for something in the middle. His family and wealth provided opportunities, but they also robbed him of truly participating in life as an observer, a student. Because he drove a certain car, or knew a certain family, people formed judgments, decided who he was before he ever had a chance. Sometimes before he even arrived and shook a person’s hand. He enjoyed engaging and learning from others. His life and the choices of his family made that difficult at times.

  Sliding doors, scarred with peeling stickers and a few permanent marker symbols, opened, and Grady stepped out onto the platform. He rode the escalator up. As he approached the exit, into the brisk morning air, he looked up at the colored glass eagle wing above him. The morning light spilled through the sculpted overhang and made him smile. The Roads Foundation had renovated the Mariachi station three years ago, and Grady still marveled at the delicate work that married the history of LA’s culture and modern conveniences.

  He pulled his backpack over both shoulders and headed around the corner to Al and Bea’s Mexican Food for a breakfast burrito. He planned to take it to go and warm his hands on the wrapped tortilla as he walked a mile to the finished construction site. The morning was a still peace. Storefronts were rolling up as the people of East LA began their day.

  When he arrived at the front gate, Jason was outside to let him in.

  “I’ll never understand why you walk in this part of town.” He smiled, patted Grady on the back, and leaned in to smell his breakfast. “Smells good, but that shit’ll kill you, man.”

  They walked through the gate. Jason pushed a button and it closed behind them.

  “When did you get so old?” Grady said, finishing the last of his burrito and throwing the wrapper into the metal can. “What’d you have this morning? Oatmeal, maybe a little flax seed?”

  Jason looked awkward and Grady laughed.

  “Holy hell, that’s what happens when you get married. Next you’ll start drinking your beer from a glass.”

  “I’m just watching out for my health, you know after thirty . . .”

  Grady shook his head and Jason stopped.

  “Whatever, man. You’re just pissed Kelly chose me back in college and not your sorry ass.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is.” Grady pulled open the front doors to the building, wiped his boots on the ragged mat, and felt that feeling—the one that stopped him and climbed into his soul every time. He looked at Jason, now serious, and they both smiled. Eric and Bryce came through another set of doors holding a small spool of red ribbon and a box. They set everything down on the bookcase near the entry. The bookcase that, very soon, would hold brochures outlining the center’s services and a guest book. Eric and Bryce took turns patting Grady on the back.

  “Good to see you,” Bryce said, pulling out four crystal glasses and o
ne opened bottle of whiskey.

  “You too. How’s Sophia?” Grady asked, taking one side of the ribbon and handing the other to Eric.

  Bryce beamed and his eyes went sappy soft. “She’s incredible. Almost two months and just . . . well, you saw the pictures. She’s her mama. Gorgeous already.”

  Grady patted him on the back and turned to Eric, who had unraveled some of the ribbon across the entryway. “We’re the only two left.”

  “I know, but Felicity is moving in with me after the holidays, so you better get your shit together. Seems fitting you’d wait until last.”

  Grady smiled. “Waiting, who says I’m waiting? There will be no settling down for me, believe me. You’ll all just have to live your long-buried bachelor lives vicariously through me. I’ll keep the flame burning.” They all laughed.

  “You sure about that, man? I had lunch with Peter last week and he said you had some feisty babysitter that was giving you a run for your money,” Jason joked, and when Grady’s face turned a bit pale, all three men hit hi-fives and laughed.

  Grady shook his head.

  “We ready to do this?” Grady asked promptly, taking the focus off his very sexy and very feisty babysitter. Bryce handed each of them a glass. “Whose turn is it to cut?” Grady held out the scissors.

  “You’re up,” he said, handing them to Eric.

  “All right.” Eric stepped forward and grabbed the scissors. “Glasses up. Four guys, one great idea, and a thankful community. I proudly, before all the other big wigs get in here, declare this much-needed parent facility open for business.”

  He cut the ribbon, all four men clinked glasses, drank, and looked at each other. Their first private ceremony had been almost twelve years ago. It was for a wellness center for students not on the Stanford campus. A small, five hundred-square-foot clinic. They had forgotten ribbon on the morning of that first dedication, so they’d used dental floss from the facility for their private opening. Looking around now, Grady felt whole. They had come a long way and were now standing in a ten-thousand square-foot space with thirty-five private rooms for the parents of the children staying at the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital. The parent facility allowed the families to stay close, but not have to sleep in stiff hospital chairs or on couches. They would have clean rooms, hot meals, and collective areas to share common concerns with other parents. All of it free of charge. In a few months they would have webcams installed in the children’s rooms so parents could keep an eye on their child from the facility. All four men did the one-armed hug thing and put their glasses back in the box Bryce held out. They might have gone another round had they met at night, but eight in the morning was the only time that worked for all of their schedules. Macallan whiskey, specifically a 1949 bottle, was the tradition dating back to their very first project, so morning or not, they dedicated with whiskey. All four men walked toward the door to lock up.

  Grady turned to his friends. “Until next time.”

  “You sure you don’t want a ride? Christ, man don’t you have a couple of cars?” Eric asked.

  “Nah, I like the esthetics of the Metro.”

  “Really? Yeah, you’re alone there, my friend.” Bryce said, buttoning up his coat. A beep unlocked his car. “Be safe. See you next week. New project time. Any ideas?” he asked.

  “I have a few.” Grady smiled.

  “He always does,” Eric said, throwing his briefcase into the passenger seat and climbing into his own car. Both men waived and drove away, leaving Grady and Jason to lock the outside fence.

  “You pull out and then I’ll lock up,” Grady said.

  Jason was staring at the building.

  “It’s incredible, you know?” Jason said, looking up at the steel-beamed entrance.

  “Yeah, it turned out. I love the glass.” Grady added.

  “It did, but that’s not what I meant. What you do, it’s incredible.”

  Grady bumped his shoulder. “Aww, are you gonna get all girl on me again?”

  “See, you always do that, always dismiss it, but we’re getting older now and this is some shit. Admit it. We’re making a difference. Don’t you think it’s time you took your rightful place?”

  “Oh Christ, we’re not that old. Get in your damn car. My rightful place? Maybe you need to cut down on the flaxseed. I’m happy right where I am, doing what we do.”

  “You sure?”

  Both men looked at each other.

  “Because it feels like hiding, feels like you just . . . I mean how long? You deserve to come out of the shadows,” Jason said.

  Grady’s face was stone serious, but he knew Jason wasn’t going to let it go at that. He knew the conversation would come up again soon, but Grady wasn’t providing any answers today. “I need to get going, so pull your car out so I can lock the gates behind you and give you these keys.”

  Jason let out a sigh and got in his car.

  As he pulled out, Grady walked to his car window and handed him the keys. “Talk to you later. Smile for the cameras and shake the nice senator’s hand.”

  Jason shook his head and they both laughed. He drove away and Grady began walking toward the Metro.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She hadn’t seen Nick in several months, and it’d been a very long while since she’d seen him in a tux. So Kate was a little fuzzy as she approached the stage at the Fallen Officers Charity Banquet, after almost bumping into Nick on the way up. This was an important evening that had nothing to do with her, or Nick for that matter. This would be easy, she told herself, as she stepped up to the podium.

  The Charity Banquet recognized police officers lost in the line of duty and honored their families. The proceeds often went to scholarships and other assistance. Kate had volunteered for this banquet since she was a teenager, but tonight all she needed to do was welcome the supporters, most of them cops or families of cops, and introduce the senator. Stanley had decided, given the increased stress between the LAPD and the community, that Senator Malendar needed a spot at this year’s banquet. Mark had made arrangements for Senator Malendar to present one of the scholarships.

  The simple act of an introduction turned out to be far from easy. In fact, the high jump Kate had to do during their senior track meet, because Melissa Hunt was sick, was easier than what was about to happen next.

  Nick and Kate had been divorced for nearly two and a half years now, but when she adjusted the microphone, he was the only person she saw. His just-a-little-bad-boy look, that smile where his lips curved down into almost a frown, were so familiar, and she wondered why he still looked so good. Shouldn’t he look like shit? Feel like shit? Where was karma when she needed it? Kate didn’t have butterflies or feelings of affection, but she wasn’t angry or resentful anymore either. As she smiled and welcomed the audience, Kate realized Nick was simply a familiar face in a sea of other faces. That was all. Her view eventually opened up, and she smiled at the other three hundred people seated at round tables. Kate gripped the podium and the rehearsed speech flowed from her mouth. She hugged Senator Malendar following an eloquent introduction, and when she turned to leave the stage—that’s when she saw it.

  She had made a point not to look at Nick’s table again during her speech, apart from her initial familiar moment, but as Kate turned, something drew her attention. She sort of stumbled down the two stairs into the dark corner off stage. The entire room was eyes up to the senator, but Kate couldn’t look away.

  She was now touching Nick’s hand, and Kate saw it again.

  She was the cheater; she slept with another woman’s husband. Kate could tolerate them as a couple, Christ she had even told him to be with her during a much more together time in her mind. But . . . there was no way it seemed right that she was now going to be his wife.

  Kate tried to breathe. Peering from the darkness, she checked again. The damn thing was on her left hand. It sparkled under the hotel chandeliers. They were engaged? He’d asked her to spend his life, the same way he had ask
ed her . . . Kate felt like she was going to pass out. She was definitely suffocating as she pushed the handle on the exit door and ran as fast as her high heels would take her. Kate needed her car, and if she wanted to keep what was currently her crappy job, it was time to leave. She ran past the reception area without a word and beat the doorman to the front door. Pushing through, she took a gulp of air as if her life depended on it. She looked up and everything was swimming. The stars were a swirl of light and she tried to focus. She needed to find her car and get home behind closed doors. She would not fall apart here. Maybe she wasn’t going to fall apart at all, but whatever was going to happen once the world stopped racing through her head was not going to happen here, it couldn’t. Tears began to creep into her eyes. Walk, Kate!

  “Kate.” Oh, Dear God, could this get any worse?

  Grady caught up with her and attempted to turn her toward him. She pulled her arm away and kept walking. Where was she walking to again? She couldn’t think straight. Right, breathing. Tears continued to threaten, and she would have given anything to just disappear.

  “Kate, you can’t just walk . . . ”

  She turned, so sick of listening to what she could and couldn’t do. He saw the look on her face and stopped. Tears, apparently tears shut Grady up. Good to know.

  “Please,” she held up her hands and kept backing toward the parked cars. “Please just leave me be. Just this once, please walk away. I don’t want to argue, I don’t want any of your witty banter, please . . . ” She turned, wiped her eyes, and attempted to find the guy in the red jacket that held the keys to her escape.

  Bless his soul; the valet approached with a smile that faded when her face came into the light. He adopted a big brother look and ran to get her car. Kate sat on the bench, waiting and trying to keep herself together just five more minutes; the shelter of her car would be there so soon. Grady sat next to her and she shot him her very best warning look.

  “No wit, and no arguing, I promise.”

  Her head dropped back and she closed her eyes.