“Why do you always say that after I’ve caught you in a compromising position with a woman?” Annie circled around Kip and headed for the living room.
“Because you keep jumping to conclusions,” he said, following close behind.
She turned and poked her finger into Kip’s chest. “I’m not jumping to conclusions. I heard your belt buckle unlatch and Miss Busy Hands say you were amazing. I know what I heard.”
Kip reached out again and grabbed hold of Annie’s wrist—the one holding the letter. “There’s the problem. You heard it, but you didn’t see it.”
“That’s because you were hiding behind a shelf. Did you really think that would give you enough privacy?”
“We weren’t hiding. There was nothing to hide.”
“Really? Do I look stupid to you?”
Kip pulled Annie closer. A smile slowly grew on his face as he looked at her through hooded eyelids. “Stupid is not the word I’d use.” His eyes trailed down the length of her body.
Annie followed the path of his gaze to her clothes. She was wearing an old cami, which gave a generous view of her cleavage, a pair of faded shorts that were too short, and a yellowed pair of athletic socks that should have been thrown out long ago.
“Oh, please.” She reached out and tilted his chin up. “Eyes up here, Porter.”
“Easier said than done.” He smiled brightly, his eyes penetrating hers.
“Seriously? Oh, my God, that’s your problem.” Annie pulled away and walked back into the kitchen with Kip trailing close behind. She turned abruptly to find him at her heels.
“I don’t have a problem,” Kip said, towering above her with his arms crossed.
“Get real. What you did was disgusting, not to mention just plain…dangerous. What if someone had walked in—other than me?”
Kip brought his face down to hers and said through gritted teeth, “Nothing happened. If you had stuck around, you would have heard me re-buckling my belt and getting out of there.”
“Only because you were caught.”
“Damn it, Annie, I didn’t do anything! I didn’t encourage her, I didn’t lead her into a closet, and I certainly didn’t let her give me a blowjob,” he said.
Annie couldn’t help feeling satisfied that Mr. Calm-Cool-and-Collected was finally starting to crack under the pressure. “You expect me to believe that?”
“What’s with you?”
Annie picked up her wine glass and drained the golden liquid. “How am I supposed to work for someone who has no regard for propriety? Someone who will do anything—I mean anything—to get ahead?”
Kip stepped closer, his face red and his breathing shallow. “For the last time, you’ve got this all wrong. You’ve got me all wrong.”
Annie looked up at Kip hovering above her. Their eyes locked, and again she was keenly aware of her racing pulse. “I…don’t know what to believe,” she whispered.
“Say you’ll stick around.” The resignation letter slipped easily out of her hand and Kip quickly tore it into pieces. “And I’ll prove to you I’m not that guy.”
With their eyes locked a moment longer, Annie found herself speechless, swimming in the pools of his crystal blue eyes. Kip must have taken her silence for defiance and stepped back, shaking his head. He punched his thigh with his fist and stalked out of the apartment, letting the door slam behind him.
Ten
Monday morning, as Annie sat in traffic along Constitution Avenue, she couldn’t seem to calm the jitters coursing through her limbs. After Kip’s hasty departure—and for the rest of the weekend—she had rewound and replayed their argument several times, wrestling with the possibility that maybe she had misinterpreted what she’d heard in the supply room. While sitting at a traffic light, she gripped and ungripped the steering wheel, considering that maybe it was just as he had said: he hadn’t encouraged that woman to unbuckle his belt. An annoying pop song came on the radio and Annie punched at the buttons, up and down the dial, finally giving up and slapping the power button off. The traffic light turned green and Annie laid on her horn. “Move it,” she mumbled, charging around the car ahead of her and nearly colliding with another car in the left lane. Once she parked, she sat for a moment and realized maybe the best thing to do was apologize. The thought of job hunting all over again made her crazy and she really couldn’t afford to lose this one. She would take the high road and say she was sorry for her part in the confrontation. Annie climbed out of the car, threw back her shoulders, and marched up the street toward the capitol building.
When she walked into the congressional office, several staff members were huddled in twos and threes. Tom had his hip propped on the receptionist’s desk, talking on his cell phone, and Kip was nowhere in sight. She let out a long, slow sigh, greeted his assistant, and began going over his schedule for the week.
At exactly eight fifty-nine, everyone meandered into the conference room and Annie sat in a chair as far from Kip’s usual seat as possible. She placed her leather bag on the floor and as she bent over to retrieve her laptop, she heard two young interns talking to her left.
“Seriously, dude, that old lady was all over me. I had to peel her off.”
“No way.”
“Yep and I saw her sister grab Blake’s ass.” The pair began laughing. When they resumed talking, they were so quiet Annie couldn’t hear the rest of the story.
After lifting the screen, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and began tapping the keys when she heard murmurings of “good morning” and “how’s everyone doing.” She looked toward the head of the table and found Kip looking at her, a serious, unreadable expression on his face. Annie felt her cheeks grow warm and refocused her concentration on her laptop screen.
“Okay, guys, let’s get started. I’ve got a meeting in forty-five minutes.” Kip unbuttoned his jacket and sat in the leather chair, clearing his throat as he rolled closer to the table. “I want to begin by thanking Annie for organizing such a great grand opening on Saturday.”
The room erupted with enthusiastic clapping and Annie nervously glanced around at the room full of smiling faces. Finally, her eyes settled on Kip, who seemed to be beaming. “It was a big success. Lots of interesting people stopped by—”
A burst of laughter came from Annie’s left. One of the interns said, “You can say that again.”
“Did I miss something?” Tom asked.
“Sorry, Tom, we’re just laughing about those older ladies from Baltimore. They were out of control. They even invited Blake and me to a party at their house.”
Those who had attended the opening started talking among themselves, comparing stories of the now-infamous sisters. Annie wanted to crawl under the table, she was so embarrassed. She had misread what had happened in the closet, she was sure of it. She apprehensively looked at Kip, who gave her a shrug and that wry smile. Feeling somewhat forgiven, she felt sure she’d be vindicated when she gave her campaign report.
“Kip, I’ve arranged for several campaign appearances for you next week and have already cleared the dates with your secretary.”
“I’m sure Kip will be too busy next week. Let’s put those off for a while.” Tom reached across the table and patronizingly patted her hand. “You just man the phones at campaign headquarters. That would be best.”
“But, there are some important meetings and events he should attend if he wants to increase his edge in the polls.”
“His edge is just fine. Let’s move on.” Tom silenced her with his scowl as he nodded to Kip to continue the meeting. Wasn’t she hired to run his campaign? If so, why wasn’t Tom letting her do her job? As soon as the meeting ended, she would talk to Kip alone.
After the meeting was over, everyone rushed from the room to begin the week’s work, while Annie took her time placing her laptop back in its tote. She stood up, straightened her blouse, then walked into the outer office where she found Kip and Tom in discussion. She kept her distance until they’d finished their conversatio
n, but couldn’t help overhearing.
“Bro, you’ve got to get moving on this.”
“I’m on it. You just do what you need to do.” Kip’s face was red. Was it anger Annie saw in his usually composed features?
“Hey, it’s not my name on the bill.”
“I hear ya, but—” Kip stopped suddenly, turning his gaze on Annie.
Tom looked at Annie and then again at Kip. “Well, okay then,” he said, “I guess I better get to work. Are we still on for lunch?”
“Sure thing.” Kip patted Tom on the back before walking over to Annie, who was almost compulsively readjusting the strap on her messenger bag.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. We were finished.”
Annie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glanced over her shoulder, then focused on Kip’s tie. “Um…I owe you an apology.”
Kip shrugged. “That’s okay.”
With a tilt of her head, Annie walked toward Kip’s office, signaling him to follow. Once inside, she continued: “I was way off base and should have taken you at your word. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. I probably would have jumped to the same conclusion if I were you.” He took a step closer and Annie drew in a breath. Her attraction to him was undeniable—but inappropriate. They needed to maintain a professional relationship.
“I wanted to talk with you about some of these appearances. It’s important you’re seen in your district, attend various functions. You don’t want to slip in the polls.”
“It’s still early. No worries.”
“But, Kip.” She stopped when Kip sat behind his desk and focused his attention on his computer screen. Gathering her messenger bag in her arms, Annie turned toward the door. “Well, I guess I better get over to campaign headquarters. I’ve got some press releases to get out.”
“I guess this means you’re not quitting?” He drew his eyes away from the screen and paralyzed her with his gaze.
“Um…no, I’ll stay on.”
“Any chance we can get that cup of coffee sometime?”
Anne squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, then matched his gaze. “Yes, maybe, sometime.”
Before Kip could say another word, she rushed out of his office.
Eleven
“We’re in for a steamy day, folks, with temperatures reaching into the mid-to upper nineties in the District and only a few degrees cooler along the bay. Winds will be out of the south at ten to twenty miles an hour with a risk of scattered thunderstorms this afternoon.” The local meteorologist was rattling off the morning’s weather report for the fifth time in an hour—an hour in which Annie had changed her outfit three times and was considering a fourth. She stood in front of the full length mirror attached to her bedroom door and sighed heavily as she tugged at the hem of her pale blue skirt.
“Too short,” she mumbled, yanking down the side zipper and stepping out of the garment. It dropped in a heap on the floor.
She ransacked her closet again, pulling out a floral sundress and holding it in her right hand as she stared absently at a navy blue shift in the other.
“What do you wear to a chicken farm?” she asked the empty room.
She shoved both dresses back in the closet and retrieved a red sleeveless dress from her bed, where it lay buried under a pile of discarded clothes, and pulled it over her head. Turning left and right, she inspected her reflection before slipping on a pair of wedge sandals. A diamond pendant, tennis bracelet, and gold hoops completed the ensemble. Still, Annie wasn’t sure if she was over-dressed or under-dressed or not dressed right at all. With a final glance in the mirror, she snatched a white sweater off her bed, picked up her leather bag, and walked out the door. Her cell phone alerted her to a text message as soon as she stepped into the hallway, its shrill ding echoing off the walls.
Ready to visit the crazy cat lady?
She pressed the elevator button, her mouth curling into an amused grin, and tapped out a quick response to Kip.
Yep. Did u take ur Benadryl?
As she stepped through the double doors, she received his reply.
Wouldn’t leave home without it.
It had been four days since she’d seen Kip at the staff meeting and she was looking forward to this field trip. His district included three counties and dozens of small towns, but the only area she had become familiar with was Shady Beach. She looked forward to seeing the rest of the area he represented and teaching him a lesson about the importance of following up with constituents. As she dropped her cell phone into her messenger bag, it dinged once more.
Want a ride?
Annie stopped in the lobby of her apartment building and stared at the screen while twisting a lock of hair around her finger, letting it go, and twisting it again. The plan had been to meet at the campaign office, and then ride to Martha Mahan’s together—only a ten-minute drive. If she accepted his offer, they would be riding together—alone—for over an hour. She tapped out a response to his text.
Already in the car. Meet you at headquarters.
Kip’s black Lexus pulled to the curb and she knew she was busted. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal a smiling Kip inside who asked, “Having car trouble?”
The ride out of DC across the Bay Bridge had been pleasant, if somewhat awkward, with Annie and Kip sticking strictly to office topics—exactly the professional relationship she’d asked for. Neither one strayed from safe subjects, keeping the mood all business. It wasn’t until they came to the peaceful countryside that Kip became playful, making quips about the simple life outside the city.
“Now look, Coach, we’re about to go through the big metropolis of Normansville. Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.” They stopped at an intersection with a tackle store on one corner, a convenience store on another, and two-story farmhouses completing the junction.
“Bet you can’t guess who founded this little hamlet,” Kip said.
Annie rolled her eyes. “Ummm…would it be someone named Norman?”
“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Even if they both laughed a little too hard at the joke, the result was that any pretense or uneasiness evaporated.
Martha Mahan lived along a narrow road a quarter mile from her nearest neighbor, surrounded by fields of tall green cornstalks on three sides of her single-story home. Kip pulled his Lexus into the gravel driveway and Annie snorted a laugh when she saw several cat-themed yard ornaments gracing Ms. Mahan’s impeccably manicured lawn.
Kip arched his brow and looked at Annie with a wide-eyed gaze.
“Let’s hope these concrete cats are the only ones she has,” Annie said.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Kip tapped Annie’s hand and said, “Stay right there.”
He walked around the front of the car and opened Annie’s door, extending his hand. “You’re two for two, Porter.”
“Huh?”
“Twice we’ve ridden together and twice you’ve opened my door.”
Kip leaned his elbow on the edge of the door while maintaining his grip on Annie’s delicate hand. “Is that a problem?”
“No problem.” Annie stifled a grin and then quietly thanked him, gently pulling her hand from his. Was he truly a gentleman or just trying to butter her up?
They walked up the short cement sidewalk and had just taken a step onto the stoop when the front door flew open and several cats in varying colors came charging out, singing a chorus of meows. A thin, slightly hunched woman with frizzy, shoulder-length gray hair stepped outside, followed by two more cats slinking close to her bright blue running shoes. She was wearing a pink snap-front seersucker house dress and two plastic beaded necklaces—one red and one yellow.
“Well, I never thought I’d see the day. It’s about time you got here.” She put her hands on her narrow hips and smacked her lips into a pucker, looking Kip over from head to toe. “You look exactly like your pictures. That doesn’t always happen. I was f
iguring you’d be an older man—you know, one who puts that Just for Men in his hair to fool people about his age. Urmph.”
Kip shook his head as if to clear his befuddled mind, and extended his hand to the weathered old lady. “Ms. Mahan…it’s a pleasure to meet you. This is my campaign manager, Annie Merriman.”
After Martha let go of the vise-like grip she had on Kip’s hand, she reached out and took Annie’s hand more gently. But with surprising strength, she pulled Annie close to her; she studied every inch of Annie’s face before dropping her hand like she had been burned.
“Pretty,” she said, and then turned back to Kip.
“Well now…down to business. You smell that?” Martha extended her arm and waved it over her head.
“Uh, no ma’am, I don’t smell anything,” Kip said.
“Oh, come now, surely you smell that horrendous odor. Follow me.” The old lady marched down the steps and treaded across her lawn, her gaggle of cats never far behind.
Annie and Kip followed her around the corner of the house to a side yard where a garden swing sat under a spreading oak tree and a plot of colorful annuals lined the foundation.
“What a lovely yard you have, Ms. Mahan,” Annie said, looking around at the perfectly groomed garden.
“I wish I could enjoy it, but I can’t take the smell most days.”
Kip, Annie, and Martha stood in the side yard, their faces kissed by the soft breeze blowing across the cornfield. Annie was mesmerized by the quiet clattering of cornstalks swaying in the wind and the warmth of the bright, cloudless sky.
Martha walked a few feet closer to the field and then turned back to face Annie and Kip, her hands on her hips once more. “Looks like you came on the wrong day. The wind is coming from the south and Len Heldreth’s farm is north of here. I don’t know what that old man is doing over there, but it smells like raw sewage.”
Kip stepped toward the old woman. “Ma’am, you mentioned on the phone that this Mr. Heldreth has a chicken farm? Is that all he raises?”
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