Candidate: A Love Story (31 page)

BOOK: Candidate: A Love Story
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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 you. 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 and 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?”

“Not with me. You don’t ever have to be that way with me. Kate, I’ll walk away before I will ever cheat on you. It’s not my thing. It’s a shitty thing to do to someone, let alone someone you love. If I ever fall out of love with you, I’ll tell you, straight up.”

“How can you say that? You can’t know.”

“Sure I can, can’t you? It’s a character thing, Kate. You know that as well as I do. Some people have it and some people don’t. I have all sorts of crap on my ‘to fix’ list, but infidelity is not one of them. When I’m with a woman, I mean . . . ”

Kate looked at him.

“When I’m with a woman exclusively.”

She laughed. “And how often does that happen?”

He smiled and wiped what looked like icing off of her cheek. “Well, I haven’t always been a settle-down guy. Never found the right person.”

Kate started to pull away and Grady held her arms.

“Until now. Now, what’s happened now is that I . . . well, I can’t see anything else. Anyone else. I’m not exactly familiar with what’s going on right now, but I can tell you that I never lied to any of the women I was with in my past. I didn’t see a need. I like honesty. I prize it over most things, so I give it to the people in my life.”

Kate seemed tired, and Grady imagined he often wore her out. She rested her head on him, and it felt like she was finally opening, giving herself in spite of everything.

“Me too,” she said, closing her eyes.

Grady lifted her face with both hands. “You too?”

“Me too. The honesty part. I’m that way. I don’t really know how to be any other way, but I think sometimes people think they’re honest, and then things happen and they find themselves in situations. Hell, I don’t know.”

“No. That’s not true. We all have certain . . . non-negotiables. Things that no matter what, we hold on to. You don’t falter on the non-negotiables.”

“You don’t. You’re right.” Kate looked into his eyes and he knew she believed him.

“Now about fattening me up.” Grady leaned toward the doughnut box and lifted the lid.

Kate came behind him, wrapped her arms under his arms and around his warm chest.

“This might be a strategy I can get behind,” he said.

Grady removed a long-john from the box, bit almost half way through, and looked over his shoulder at Kate.

BOOK: Candidate: A Love Story
7.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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