Candidate: A Love Story

by Ewens, Tracy

  “No,” she said, moving to him, but careful to keep her distance, “I’ve never seen a more extraordinary rose or a more extraordinary man.”

  Kate looked at him and there it was. He wanted to be that man in her eyes more than anything else. That thought, he would admit, was a little scary.

  “So, what happened to the flower shop?” Kate asked, putting the rose back.

  “She was in remission for a while with the first bout, but it came back around the time I graduated. Leo couldn’t hold it together any more. They needed benefits and cash, so he sold the business and came to work here.” Grady sipped his coffee. “He said she was all that mattered in his life, so if he had to have a job, he’d get a job.”

  Kate sighed. “That’s a very sad story. For him and the state of our country, but he seems happy.”

  “He is happy.” Grady smiled and pointed out sunflowers bursting out of newspaper cones. “He has two kids, three grandkids, and Marie is in remission again. They were married fifty years this past January.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “Wow, that is something I can’t imagine.”

  Kate yawned and Grady could easily imagine that many years, as long as they were with her.

  “Getting tired?” He asked.

  “Nah, just ignore that. The coffee should kick in any minute.”

  “Well before you start fading, let’s hit the tulips. We should probably get out of here anyway before the florist buyers show up. It’s a zoo in here by three.”

  They continued walking and Grady commented, sort of like one of those home gardening television hosts, that “tulips were from the lily family.” Kate followed that with the fact that “they were also related to a family that included onions.” They were quite a pair, the two of them, delirious flower nerds. Grady bought a huge bunch of tulips and picked up another bunch of daffodils while the woman in a green apron wrapped the tulips in newspaper. Grady threw out his empty coffee cup and put his free arm around Kate. She quickly moved it and looked around. Grady laughed.

  “Oh yes, this will be a scandal if anyone catches us here at the Los Angeles Flower Market, drinking coffee and geeking out over flowers. That is a scandal from which my father will not recover.” He tried to hold her again and Kate grew serious.

  “It’s not that we are here, it’s that people don’t need to know we are here together. I mean . . . damn it. I’m usually articulate when I’m not around you.”

  “I know, I’ve seen you bullshit with the best to them.”

  “Shut up. You know what I mean. We can’t be seen,” she said, holding up finger quotes, ‘together.’ It doesn’t look right for either of us.”

  “Fine,” Grady said as they approached the exit and Leo.

  “Ah, looks like you found something for your pretty lady there, Grady.”

  Kate blushed and looked around again.

  Grady smiled and handed Leo the daffodils. “For Marie.”

  Leo nodded his head. “Her favorite. I’ll get them to her this morning. Brighten her day. Thank you.” He hugged Grady and then kissed Kate’s hand. Kate should have continued to be on guard, should have corrected Leo that she was not Grady’s lady, but looking in the man’s weathered brown eyes, it didn’t seem important. In the whole context, as Grady had put it, who cared?

  “Good night, Leo. It was a pleasure meeting you,” was all she said.

  Kate and Grady walked into the ink-colored evening, alight only by dim street lamps. The fragrance of thousands of blooms lingered all the way to the car. Kate would remember this night forever. She would replay the evening hundreds of times, and mark it as the magical start of her very best friend’s married life. She would also remember that she had never felt more in love or more off balance in her entire life. When they got to the car, in the shadow of the parking lot, Kate took Grady’s face in her hands and gently kissed him.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “For showing me things.”

  Grady touched the back of his hand to her cheek.

  “For turning things upside down, surprising me, making me feel cherished, and giving me the most wonderful view.” She kissed him again.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The following Tuesday, Kate walked into her office to find Mark and a stack of tabloid magazines. Internally she gasped at the headlines, her heart was racing, but she let nothing show. On the outside, she was the same as always. Ready to work. Within an hour, her staff was working on gathering the facts and coming up with a damage control strategy. Kate filled her mug with coffee from the office kitchen and went behind closed doors. She needed a minute. She was only halfway through her much-needed minute when Grady knocked and then walked right into her office.

  “Kate, I wanted to get to you before this crap broke.”

  “Why?” she asked on a whisper, holding her mug with both hands. She stared out the window, and did not turn to face him. She couldn’t.

  “Um.” She could tell by his voice that he was suddenly uneasy. “Because . . . I thought we could have a good laugh. Kate, I know—”

  She spun around and the look on her face silenced him. It wasn’t anger, she was simply struggling to say in one piece.

  “It’s fine. Did you really think this was ever going to work? Were you delusional enough to think that I believed you loved me forever, Grady?” Kate said batting her eyelashes and holding her hands up to her face like an innocent schoolgirl. “I get it. I’m a big girl and believe me. I’ve done this before. We had a good time, things happen.”

  “What?” Grady was stunned.

  Kate turned aloof and finished him off. “I’m just pissed that this is going to hurt the campaign and that you managed this on my watch.” She looked down at her desk and despite the look in his eyes, she willed herself to stay together. Survive, Kate, at all costs.

  Grady actually stumbled back a step as if he’d been physically hit. “Am I really supposed to stand here and . . . ? Do I have to explain to you that I didn’t . . . oh, Kate, are you kidding me?”

  She looked up at him, her jaw clenched, and broke his heart. Kate could see it in his face, but she couldn’t stop the flood of doubt and suspicion. It didn’t register with her that it might be just another stupid rumor. She immediately believed he was a scumbag that slept with a hooker. Part of her felt awful now that he was finally in front of her, dumbfounded, but most of her began putting on the armor. She’d spent the last hour pacing Mark’s office, listening to the sordid details, and closing her heart off like one of those medieval drawbridges. Above everything, she could not let the pain in. If there was any chance, any chance at all, that he would, that he . . . she just couldn’t let any of it in. She wouldn’t survive. Grady took her arm and she pulled away. He took a deep breath and his eyes were angry now.

  “First, first of all, I don’t pay for sex. I don’t have to.” Touché, nice opening and probably very true. “Second, when I’m with a woman—”

  Kate turned away and he took her face gently.

  “When I’m in love with a woman, I don’t . . . I can’t even believe I need to say this to you.” His hand dropped and he moved around her office like a prowling cat, frustration simmering. “I’m not Nick, god damn it! In fact, screw him for doing this, making you into this.” He flailed his hands up and down. “I thought . . . Jesus, we haven’t . . . we’re right here aren’t we? You, your first thought was that someone that . . . even though my heart literally jumps to be near you, that I’d throw that all away. I’d pick up this hooker and take her to the Wilshire. What’d she say?” He ran his hands over his face. “Oh, yeah, ‘Just like in Pretty Woman,’—really? That’s not even the best lie anyone’s ever told about me. This wasn’t even a really good one, Kate.”

  She turned away.

  “Shit, what am I doing? I’ve had just about enough of this fucking campaign screwing with my life. Not being able to be with you.” He seemed to laugh in pain. “You know what? This probably works perfectly for y
ou. You’re never going to let me all the way in anyway, are you? Believe whatever you want. I’ve done nothing.”

  Kate continued to look at the wall. She thought he was going to leave. This was almost over, but he turned and walked behind her. “I’m not perfect, but I did not do this. You know I’m yours Kate, and you’re mine. You of all people know that I did not do this. I love you. Can’t you just let me . . . ” He touched her shoulder and she went back behind the safety of her desk.

  Kate never looked up, never looked at him.

  “Love me back, all the way. I’m worth it, I promise.”

  A tear fell on to the folder Kate kept moving from one side of her desk to the other. She said nothing, and began going through papers.

  She heard him exhale. “Goodbye, Kate.” He walked out of her office and they were done. Tested and failed, Kate. Nice work!

  The glow of the neon above the bar washed over a heavily-pierced bartender. This was a dive bar, even for Grady. He didn’t care. He needed somewhere to hide, some place no one would recognize him getting shit-faced a week before his father’s election. Peter walked in and took the barstool next to Grady.

  “What are we drinking?”

  Grady looked up, no sparkle, no charm. He was sick to death of all of it. “Heineken.” Grady tilted his bottle toward Peter.

  “Okay, still foreign, but mainstream. Aw man, that’s your ‘I no longer give a shit’ beer.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah, domestic is usually kicked back, having a good time. Craft is my favorite, Grady. Craft beer is your thinking, plotting beer. I love that one. Foreign dark, like a Hefeweizen, is international travel, pensive, sometimes moody Grady. Foreign light, usually obscure, is dressed up formal, probably should be drinking wine, but no way, Grady.”

  Grady had finished his beer at this point and was staring at Peter, who, pissing the bartender off, had ordered water.

  “Anyway, foreign, mainstream, that’s the ‘I don’t care, throw something at me’ Grady. What happened?”

  “You know you’re not normal, right?” Grady asked.

  “Yes, that’s a given. Spill it. Why are you at this—” Peter turned on his barstool to take in the entire little roadside shack bar—“lovely establishment?”

  “Because I’m a damn hamster on a wheel and I wanted a drink.”

  “Nice try. You’ve been a hamster all your life. This isn’t poor Grady, senator’s son. We’d be well into the scotch by now and you’d be at my house. Never in public.”

  “Jesus, you should probably write a book about me, or how about a play, asshole?”

  Peter smiled and then put his hand on Grady’s shoulder. “You know I’m going to drag it out of you, or I’ll have to call Sam and she’ll definitely get you to fess up, so let’s make this easy. What happened?”

  Grady ran his hand over his face and ordered another beer. “Well, I’m not sure if you heard, but I apparently bought myself a hooker and took her to the Wilshire. As you can imagine, she’s a real looker, so you can see why I would drop my completely-stunning, sexy, smart, woman and decide to spend, and I quote, the most wild, hot, erotic night of my life with a woman in a glitter bra and fake-leather skirt.”

  Peter laughed a little at Grady’s delivery, but could see he was in pain.

  “No way. We all know you can’t abide fake leather.”

  Grady smiled just a little before bringing the beer to his lips again.

  “She believed it,” Grady said, putting the bottle down on the damp cardboard coaster.

  Peter took a sip of his water and let a few bars of Ronny Milsap’s “Smokey Mountain Rain” wander out of the corner jukebox before he replied, “No, she didn’t.”

  “She did. You didn’t see her. She was all starched shirt, thank you, but fuck you if you thought for one minute that I loved you. She was so damn quick to just fall in line with everyone else.”

  “Quick. That’s the word. It was just her initial reaction and you probably walked in on it.”

  “How the hell do you know?”

  “Because she loves you and you’re not easy to love. Your family, what you appear to be on the outside, all the damn attention, it’s not easy, man, and you know it. Plus you add in all of her baggage and it’s just— it was a fight, that’s all.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. It looked pretty clear that she’s one of them now.”

  “Why is everything so us or them? I’ve done things that have pissed you off, I haven’t always been a good friend.”

  “True.”

  Peter laughed. “You haven’t given up on me. You never give up on your family or your friends, even though they often deserve it. So, give her a minute. Let her calm down.”

  “What if this never goes away, all this crap, what if she can’t handle it?”

  “Are we talking about the same Kate here? She’s more than capable of dealing with all of the shit in your storm. It’s her damn job. She’s probably just a little tender when it comes to this particular topic.”

  “Screwing hookers?”

  “Yeah, that tends to piss all women off.” They both laughed.

  “Shouldn’t you be home, cuddled up with our best friend?” Grady prompted.

  “I’m on my way. She’s probably already asleep surrounded by wedding magazines.”

  “Six more months, man, and you’ll be married. So weird, right?”

  Peter shook his head and got that dreamy look he always had when he talked about Samantha Cathner. “Nah, it’s not weird at all. Seems like I’ve been waiting forever.”

  They looked at each other for a beat.

  “Jesus,” Grady said, and pushed at Peter’s shoulder, “get the hell out of here. We’re starting to sound like girls, and this is a very manly, chest-hair kind of a bar. I’m not looking to get my ass kicked. Go home, Shakespeare. I’m fine.”

  Peter stood, hesitated. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m heading out too.”

  Peter turned to leave.

  “Hey,” Grady said over his shoulder.

  Peter turned back around.

  “Thanks.”

  Peter smiled.

  “Any time.”

  And with that, he left and Grady put a twenty on the bar.

  Grady was in bed, almost asleep. He was not in the mood for anything other than Kate, and she now thought he was some slimy hooker trawler. The first knock on the door was soft. He almost missed it, and then a second more forceful one followed. He squinted at the clock, saw that it was one in the morning, and clicked on his bedside lamp. The knock came again. Grady slipped into his jeans. Buttoning them and walking from his bedroom, he called out, “Hang on. I’m coming.” Turning on the entry light, he could see Kate through one of the two floor-to-ceiling windows beside the front door. He opened the door.

  “You see, the thing is—” Kate stepped passed him into the foyer, put a box she was carrying down, and turned to him. “I don’t want this.” She gestured to him, his body, with her crazy hands. “The looks, all the women with their dreamy-eyed ‘I’d be better for you than she is’ looks. I don’t want any of it.”

  “Kate.” Grady closed the door and locked it.

  “No. I want average, maybe even boring. No planes or great suits, and absolutely no charm.” She noticed his chest. “See, like this. Can’t you put a shirt on?”

  Grady was leaning up against the door now, with his arms crossed. “Kate.”

  “What?”

  “Why are you at my house with a box of—” he peered at the box she’d set down, “—doughnuts and a gallon of chocolate milk at one in the morning?” He couldn’t help but smile. She looked at the milk, still in her hand, and set it next to the doughnuts. She was standing in front of him now with messed-up hair and wearing a big sweatshirt over what looked like silky pajamas, multi-colored striped socks, and clogs. Her cheeks were pink. She was beautiful and he wanted her almost to desperation.

  Kate dropped her keys on the table an
d looked down as if she were trying to find her words. Grady was still waiting for an answer. He walked to her. “Kate?” She looked up. “Doughnuts, Nesquik? What’s going on?”

  “It’s time to fatten you up.”

  Grady laughed.

  She went on, “You’ll need to dress differently too. You could start by dressing period, more clothes maybe, and dear God, change that cologne or body wash, whatever the hell it is, that has to go too. You need to average-up, Grady Malendar, because I’m not doing smart, charming and sexy this time around. My heart needs to stay focused. If it’s ever going to think about pairing up again, it needs to find a simple, decent guy, and you,” she poked his chest as he came into her space, “you are distracting it. You are distracting my heart.”

  “Is that so?” He smiled and forgot that only hours before she was enraged and insulting. She believed the vultures and had shot him several looks he didn’t deserve. He forgot all of that as she looked up at him with her ridiculous plan.

  “Yes, it most certainly is so.” Her hands opened to lay flat on his shoulders. They were face to face. Kate dropped her head to his bare chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Grady let out a breath and kissed the top of her head.

  “It’s just . . . I don’t want to feel like this, stupid like this, questioning like this. I was never that person, and I don’t want to be her now, but sometimes I wonder if I should have known.”

  “Known what?” He put his arms around her.

  “Known I was being cheated on, known . . . you know?” She looked up at him and Grady’s heart hurt a little for her. “I think that’s where this is coming from, it must be, because I’m not this woman. I don’t believe this kind of crap, but when I saw her on the news, I don’t know, I . . . my mind told me that I was being stupid again, opening myself up again. I’m not making sense. I can’t stand women like this, clingy, questioning, but then I wonder if you have to be that way?”