Pursuit of Happiness

by Carsen Taite

  Stevie peered over her shoulder. “You sure do have a lot of food in there for someone who doesn’t actually live here.”

  “Erica stocked it for me.” Meredith started pulling ingredients out and setting them on the counter. “I make a mean omelet.”

  “Erica is pretty all-purpose for a driver.”

  Meredith heard a question beneath the statement, and she stopped what she was doing. “This was a special favor. I figured the fewer people who knew you were here, the better.” She studied Stevie’s face. “Something’s bothering you.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  But it wasn’t nothing, and Meredith could feel her withdraw. Desperate to recapture the easy intimacy they’d enjoyed all evening, she took Stevie’s hand and led her to the kitchen table. “Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “I feel a little silly since I’m the one who made a big deal about not wanting to be included in the vortex of attention that surrounds you, but I guess I’m wondering how I fit in your life. I know I should just enjoy the moments we have and not try to make it more than it is.” She hung her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to spoil tonight.”

  Meredith’s heart ached at the sight of Stevie looking out of sorts. She tilted Stevie’s chin up. “Don’t be sorry. This is an important conversation, and I’m sorry I haven’t made time for it.” Stevie started to speak, but Meredith rushed ahead. “My life is absolute chaos right now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to be a part of it. But I want you to know that despite my days being booked down to the minute, not an hour goes by that I’m not thinking about you and wishing I could see you, talk to you.” She stroked Stevie’s arm. “Touch you.” She locked eyes with Stevie imploring her to get the full thrust of what she was about to say. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I don’t know what that means beyond tonight, but I do know that I’m not ready to let you go.”

  “I’m not ready to let you go either.”

  “Then all we have to do is work out the logistics. I’d be proud to have you by my side anywhere, anytime.” Meredith pushed away the replay of Gordon’s voice telling her to tread carefully, especially when it came to optics. If Stevie started appearing with her at events, people would naturally start to speculate on the details of their relationship. Were they dating? Was it long-term? She didn’t care for the fact her personal life was never off limits, but not having one at all wasn’t any kind of life. Besides, what kind of leader would she be if she didn’t have a personal life?

  “I want you in my life in whatever capacity you feel comfortable. If that means staying out of the limelight, I get it. If you want to join me on the trail when you can, I’d love to have you. I don’t ever want you to think I’m keeping you a secret for any reason other than for your comfort. I’m not trying to hide anything from the public about who I am, and I have no problem with potential voters seeing me cast as a woman who has a personal life.” She laughed. “Hell, Lankin makes such a big deal about how he has a family, and I’m just some single woman who can’t relate to the average American family. Seriously though, I promise I won’t share anything about you to the press that you don’t want me to.”

  “I’m not quite sure what I’m up for yet, but I feel better knowing where things stand between us. Thanks for indulging me.”

  Meredith walked around behind Stevie’s chair and wrapped her arms around her. “Indulging you is easy. Whatever you want, whenever you’re ready.” She nibbled on Stevie’s ear. “But right now, I have a special request of my own.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Can there be omelets and sex?”

  Stevie leaned her head back and captured Meredith’s lips in a kiss. “Does it have to be in that order?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stevie heard a whispered voice in her ear, but she couldn’t quite climb out of the deep slumber induced by a full night of sex.

  “Babe, I hate to do this.”

  Meredith’s voice. She’d heard the voice in her ear all night, coaxing her to orgasm, but this was different. There was an urgency that had nothing to do with arousal. She rolled over and squinted into the light to see Meredith dressed in a suit standing at the edge of the bed. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m sorry, babe, but I have to go. The majority leader called a vote on the gun control bill, and he needs all hands on deck to get it to pass. I think he’s hoping the Republicans won’t be able to cobble together an opposition this quickly. I’m taking a charter back to DC in less than an hour.”

  Stevie pushed up from the bed, still struggling to wake up. “I should go too.”

  “Nonsense. It’s six a.m. You stay here and sleep. Erica can pick you up when you’re ready. I left her number on the kitchen counter. Call me when you’re back in DC. I told Gordon I’m taking tonight off since the schedule’s on the rails anyway. I should be free by five at the latest.” Meredith leaned down and kissed her. “Besides, you’ll need some rest for what I have planned later.”

  Stevie slipped her hands around Meredith’s waist and returned the kiss. She should get up, get dressed, and head home, but the offer to stay in bed for just a bit longer and nest in sheets that smelled of their lovemaking was too tempting to resist. “Okay, but you’re going to need a nap, so see if you can fit that in.”

  “Will do.” Meredith straightened up, but she seemed hesitant to leave.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled. “I guess I just like this look. Sleepy, tousled Stevie tangled in my bedsheets. I could get used to this.”

  Stevie sighed, content to bask in Meredith’s glowing gaze. Her doubts had subsided, and she was ready to figure out how to make this—whatever this was between them—work.

  Sometime later, she rolled over in bed and checked the alarm clock. It was nine a.m. Holy shit, she didn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late. Of course, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d stayed up so late for anything other than poring over case files. This morning-after sex hazy feeling was much better than that. She swung her legs out of bed and fished Meredith’s Jefferson T-shirt from the floor where she’d tossed it the night before. She pulled it on and made her way to the kitchen. Beside the note with Erica’s number was another message.

  Bagels in the bread box on the counter and veggie cream cheese and fresh OJ in the fridge. The coffee’s ready to go—just hit the button. Wish I were sharing breakfast with you. Rain check? Soon?—M

  Stevie held the note against her chest. Sweet, thoughtful, kind. Meredith was doing all the right things to win her over, and she was loving every minute. She took her time eating breakfast, not eager to dive back into the reality that waited outside the doors of this sanctuary. She’d taken the day off work, but tomorrow she’d be back in court, and Meredith would be back on the road. Today she’d have to make enough memories to hold until they could see each other again.

  When she finished eating, she took a shower, relaxing in the enormous bathroom. Meredith’s luxurious lifestyle was foreign to her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it. After she finished in the shower, she dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before, but instead of the sweater she’d worn on the trip from DC, she put on Meredith’s T-shirt, savoring the scent of her against her skin. She rang Erica who told her she would be downstairs in fifteen minutes. Stevie idly wondered if Erica was always within spitting distance of Meredith or Meredith’s escorts.

  She shook her head, pushing away thoughts of other women. Last night she’d been the sole focus of Meredith’s attention, and she was ready to give a relationship with her a real try. She resolved to make sure Meredith didn’t have any energy left over for other women while she was on the road.

  When the elevator doors opened, the lobby was crowded with security. She ducked to the side, wondering what in the hell was going on, but it didn’t take long to register the horde of reporters crowding the sidewalk, pressing their faces against the pa
nes of glass. Several uniformed guards were blocking the doors. Instead of approaching the crowd, she approached the concierge desk.

  “May I help you, ma’am?” the harried gentleman asked her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure. We’ve sent someone out to check. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I have a car picking me up, but I’m not too keen on plowing through that crowd. Is there another exit?”

  He glanced around, looking as if he’d like to make a break for it. Before he could answer, Stevie felt a tap on her shoulder and whirled around to see Erica standing behind her. “Thank God it’s you. I hope you didn’t park out front.”

  Erica shook her head, her usual easygoing manner laced with an anxious edge. “I saw the crowd, and I came around to the service entrance. Follow me.”

  Stevie walked behind her, keeping up with her brisk pace. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  Either Erica didn’t hear her or she ignored the question, but when they finally burst through the door to the service garage, it didn’t matter because the noise level drowned out any chance they could have a conversation. Through the constant flashes of light, Stevie was able to make out another crowd of reporters, almost as big as the one out front. She reached for Erica who turned back toward her, arms extended. “What’s going on?”

  Erica nudged her back toward the door. “I don’t know, but I don’t like the look of it. Let’s get back inside.” She motioned for Stevie to walk in front of her this time and shielded her with her jacket, but the shouts of the reporters made it clear why they were here.

  “Ms. Palmer, how long have you and Senator Mitchell been dating?”

  “Are you going on the road with the campaign?”

  “Are you living with the senator now?”

  The questions were like gunshots, fired rapidly and delivering piercing blows. Stevie paused right before they reached the door, her indignation building. What right did anyone have to know what was going on between her and Meredith? Certainly not any of these people who were only looking for juicy tidbits to entice their audience to stay tuned until the next bit of gossip came along. She started to turn, to tell them her personal life, and Meredith’s for that matter, was none of their business, but she felt the firm press of Erica’s hand on her arm.

  “Not a good idea,” Erica said.

  Erica was right, of course, which just made her madder. They pushed through the doors and crossed the lobby, back to the concierge desk where Erica took charge.

  “Someone needs to clear those reporters out of the garage now,” she told the concierge. “We have a matter of urgent importance, and if I have to drive my car through a crowd, you’ll be responsible for the fallout, and I’ll make sure Senator Mitchell knows how her guest was treated here today.”

  The man nodded effusively. “Yes, ma’am. I have more security on the way. It’ll just be a moment. I promise.”

  Stevie watched the exchange, feeling strangely distant. Was all this attention really because of her, because she’d spent the night at Meredith’s apartment? Or did Meredith attract this kind of attention on a daily basis?

  No, they’d been calling out her name, and since her presence was supposed to be a secret, this media blitz was unique. “Who told them?”

  “What?” Erica asked.

  Stevie thought she’d whispered the words to herself, but now that she’d voiced the question, she needed to know the answer. “Someone must’ve tipped the press off that I would be here.” She watched Erica’s face morph from genuine concern to anxious. “We need to warn her. Maybe we can catch her before she goes into session.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, but her call went straight to voice mail.

  “You’re not going to reach her. She’s already at the Capitol.”

  “I’ll text her.”

  Erica placed her hand on the phone. “Careful. You don’t want to leave a trail. If someone gets hold of your texts, well…”

  Stevie nodded as if she comprehended, but she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the implication that everything in her life, even her private text messages might be fodder for gossip columns. “How do you know so much about this?”

  “I’ve worked for the Mitchell family for years. Every one of them has survived close scrutiny, and it’s because they and the people close to them know how to handle themselves.”

  Stevie’s gut clenched. Did she have the wherewithal to “handle” herself in these circumstances? What did that even mean? She could face down hostile prosecution witnesses, hardened criminals, and doubting juries, but this was different. It was personal. No matter how intimate things had gotten with Meredith last night, she hadn’t been prepared to parade what they shared in front of the strangers waiting outside, not to mention, the millions more the reporters could reach with their salacious headlines and innuendos. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.

  “I’ve got this.” Erica’s voice was calm and confident, and she directed her attention back to the concierge. “You have a housekeeping staff—are they here now?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  Erica looked around and lowered her voice. She gestured toward Stevie. “This woman is an attorney and a guest of the senator. Someone tipped off the press so they could sit outside and ambush her. We need a maid’s uniform and a way out of this building or she’ll file a lawsuit that’ll tie your employers up in court for the next decade. You have five minutes to get us what we need.”

  He picked up the phone and started dialing while she paced in front of the desk. Stevie stared at them both, confused about what was happening, and within moments, a maid appeared carrying a uniform identical to the one she was wearing. Erica stepped toward the woman whose name tag read Marcela and reached for the uniform, looking it up and down. She turned to Stevie. “I think it will fit. How about you?”

  Realization dawned, and Stevie nodded. She made a note of how the maid wore her hair pulled back and pinned up. “Where can I change?”

  Marcela ushered her to a restroom, and Stevie began her transformation from happy, satisfied girlfriend of a senator to morning-after mess, dressed like a maid. When she emerged from the restroom with her own clothes stuffed in her carryon, Erica was standing right outside. “What’s next?”

  “The concierge says there’s a door outside the storage room where all the cleaning supplies are kept. Marcela can take you there. It’s in an alley, and if you turn left when you exit, you’ll be within a few steps of the back of the building. From there walk down to the next block, and I’ll pick you up.” Erica looked at her watch. “I’ll take your bag. They should have the garage clear in about two minutes. You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be, but how do I know there’s not another crowd at the airport waiting to ambush me there?”

  “I couldn’t get in touch with the senator, but while you were in the bathroom, I reached her secretary, and she’s going to arrange a private charter for you out of Teterboro. The Mitchells have a plane there.”

  Of course they did. Stevie sighed. She didn’t see any other way, although she was reluctant at this point to cede so much control, since giving up control was what had gotten her in the mess to begin with. She had a sneaking suspicion the mass press arrival wasn’t the result of some reporter accidentally stumbling across her presence in the city. Someone had tipped them off. If she’d made her own plans, showed up on her own terms, no one else would’ve had her schedule and been able to leak it. Whoever it was definitely didn’t have her best interests in mind, but this wasn’t the time to sort out who she could trust. She had to go with her gut and get the hell out of here.

  Fifteen minutes later, she bid farewell to Marcela and stepped into the back of the town car, out of the watchful eye of the media frenzy back at Meredith’s apartment building. She leaned back against the seat and unclenched her fists, noting the half moon marks on the inside of her palms from the force of her grip.
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br />   “Are you okay?”

  She looked in the rearview mirror and noted Erica’s concerned expression. “I think so.”

  “We’ll be at Teterboro in less than thirty minutes. Would you like me to call Senator Mitchell’s office and leave her a message to call you when she breaks free?”

  Hearing Meredith’s name spoken so formally felt like a sign. Meredith would never be just a citizen living her life. Senator, president, former president—the title didn’t matter, but the baggage that came with it did, and today was Stevie’s first real opportunity to find out if she was willing to sacrifice her privacy to help carry the load. Earlier, she’d been concerned about Meredith and how the news about her leaving Meredith’s apartment in a way that made it obvious they’d spent the night would affect her, but now that she was out of the immediacy of the situation, Stevie knew there was much more to it than that. Could she handle this kind of pressure and the affect it would have on her own life?

  If it meant having more nights with Meredith like the one they’d shared last night, she was willing to try.

  * * *

  Meredith walked into Majority Leader Chip Serno’s office at the Capitol Building, and greeted several of her colleagues. After several rounds of grandstanding on the Senate floor, Serno had called a brief recess so the majority whip could work on a couple of senators who were still on the fence. He and the whip were in his office now, likely making all kinds of political promises to the holdouts.

  After a few minutes of waiting, she started to pace.

  “What’s the matter, Mitchell?” Sandra Dixon, the senior senator from California, asked. “You’ve looked at your watch a half dozen times in the last five minutes. Got a hot date?”