Compromising Positions (11 page)

“I don’t get it.”

“I think he’s after you because you’re the ideal rebound. You’re probably very different than that ex-wife of his. You’re brilliant and funny and really pretty. Compared to the rest of Congress, you’re a friggin’ goddess. But the bigger benefit for him is that you’re just as worried about your image as he is his. You’d keep whatever goes on between you two secret. That’s why he’s pursuing you.”

She was raising some very good points, but from what I’d seen of Michael, he wasn’t the cold, calculating rich guy that Trish was envisioning. “I don’t think he’s really ‘pursuing me.’ He just talks to me when he can.” 

“Jessie. Listen to me.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not saying he’s not into you. He is. He’ll be here again tomorrow, and it’s not because of Larry.”

“Then what are you getting at?”

“Look at you. You’re falling for him hard, and I’m just saying I don’t think it’s as big of a deal for him as it is for you.”

The conversation was wearing on me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m not done.”

“What on earth is there left to say?” I pointed to my watch. “I have work to do.”

“I want to say don’t stop things with Michael. He makes you happy. He even makes you giggle—something I haven’t heard from you in years. I just want you to keep it light. Enjoy it, but don’t count on it.”

“Hmph.” I crossed my arms. “What else?”

The lecture had gone on long enough and I was anxious to get busy and drop the subject of men.

“Go out with Alan.” Trish broke into a big smile. “Have a good time. He’s a good guy, a Democrat, and for God’s sake, he looks like Prince Harry.”

“I know.” I smiled because everything she said about Alan made sense if I didn’t think about it too much.

“Give it a try. As your friend, I’d love it if you had a mad make out session with him tonight, and as your chief of staff, I’d love a photo of you two out on the town. I think your constituents would think it was great if you were with the handsome doctor from Iowa.”

“Oh God, Trish. You’re crazy.” I laughed. “So this is why you want me to wear that green dress?”

“Yes.”

“Do I get to make out with Michael, too?” I chuckled at myself for even asking.

“Why do I even try with you?” Trish laughed, placing her hands on her head in dismay. “You always do what you want anyway.”

“That’s not true. I take almost all of your political advice.” I smiled a devilish grin. “I just don’t always listen to you about my personal life.”

“Well, with Michael the personal is political.” Trish wagged her finger at me. “Remember that.”

“Duly noted.” I reached over and gave her a hug. “I love you, Trish. Even if you are harsh sometimes.”

“Larry says it’s one of my best qualities.”

“He does?”

“That and my tits.”

“On that note, I’m outta here.” I jumped up and grabbed the dress, still uncertain if I was going to wear it or if I was going to end up in a lip lock with Alan Young by the end of the night.

~~~

Late that night, I’d still only made one decision. I wore the green dress, and I was beginning to regret it. Things had been casual, almost breezy, between Alan and me, throughout our dinner, but that ease was quickly dissipating. As he drove through the quiet D.C. streets, the closer we got to my house, the more anxious I became. Damn it. Why had I worn such a provocative dress? If I’d only worn a suit, I wouldn’t feel that the end of the car ride was leading to anything more than a friendly goodbye.

As he approached my neighborhood, I glanced at Alan and asked him a question to further the conversation about farm subsidies, even though I’d long lost track of what he was saying. My concentration was focused on how to end an evening he might not expect to end.

When we pulled up to my place, I took a deep breath and offered a shy smile. “Thanks for a wonderful dinner. I owe you one.”

“You’re welcome, and you don’t owe me anything,” he said with a smile as he took his key from the ignition. “C’mon. Let me walk you up.”

“Okay.”

I hopped out of the car, hoping to avoid any attempts by him at opening my door for me. Unnecessary chivalry might lead to wrong impressions, but he was at my side in moments. When he grazed his hand over the small of my back and guided me to the door, I understood the signal. While he may have said I didn’t owe him anything, he definitely expected something.

The lit windows of the house’s second story told me Trish was awake and most likely watching what was going on below. I peeked at Alan and knew I wasn’t ready for the mad make out session Trish had asked for. At the same time, I wondered if I would be stupid, though, not to let it happen.

After we had walked the few steps down to my basement apartment, I turned to face him. “Thanks again for a lovely time.”

“My pleasure,” he said in a low voice. He smiled. “I still can’t get over how different you look tonight.”

“It’s just that I’m not wearing glasses.” I pointed to my eyes.

“Yes, no glasses.” He reached up and touched my hair. “But also your hair is down.”

“Occasionally, I let my hair down.” I chuckled.

The situation was making me nervous, but I began to get caught up in the moment.

“Like when you wear a dress like this?” he asked, his eyes on my chest.

“I suppose.”

“Well, you’re pretty every day, but tonight you’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” I stared at him long enough to realize that if I didn’t make a move, his moves might dictate how the evening ended. Standing on my tiptoes, I gave him a quick kiss. “You’re very sweet to me.”

“It’s easy to do,” he said as his lips found mine again.

His kiss was initially gentle, and I liked it. When I felt his tongue in my mouth, I was surprised by a sensation I’d forgotten. For a few seconds, I savored the kiss, but mainly because I was trying to remember the last guy I really kissed. After a moment, I remembered where I was and whom I was kissing and what a long kiss might mean to him. I broke away at once. “Sorry. I—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, as he wrapped his arms around my lower back. “Maybe we should go inside.”

“Uh…” I said along with a few other idiotic sounding noises. I didn’t want him in my apartment, but I needed a way out of it now that I’d kissed him. I glanced again at the windows above us, and the glow from them reminded me of something Trish had said. It had been intended for someone else, but I thought it fit better in this situation. I smiled at him. “Alan, I like you. I think you’re great, but can we keep things light?”

“Light?” His brow furrowed before he offered a slow nod. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for anything more.” I just didn’t have the guts to tell him I probably never would be ready for anything more with him, at least not while I was mooning over Mr. Blue Eyes.

“I understand,” he said with a wry smile. He kissed me on the forehead. “Have a good night, Jessie.”

“You too.” And I turned to unlock the door.           

CHAPTER NINE

Michael

After I rang the bell, I adjusted the bag of beer in my arm, wondering again if I should be there at all. Was I a sucker for self-punishment, or was this the quickest way to learn what happened between them and move on? My usual pessimistic nature already told me how the evening would end. Most likely, I was going to get another swift kick to the gut when I heard about what a great time Jessie had on her damn date with Alan Young.

It was only a few seconds, before I heard the thunder of what had to be Larry’s feet pounding down the stairs. He threw open the door and smiled. “Come on in, man. This one’s going down to the buzzer.”

“Great,” I said, walking inside. “I’m glad I got here in time to see it.”

As I followed him up the stairs, Larry filled me in on the game. I only half-listened while I continued to speculate on when Jessie might show up. While I searched for a good question to ask Larry that might give me information on her, we’d arrived on the second floor, and to my surprise, she was already there. “Hey, Jessie.” I grinned. “How are you?”

“Hi. I’m good,” she said, returning the smile. Then she nodded toward the television. “This is a good game.”

“It looks it.” I turned to Trish, who sat in her chair with a pile of newspapers on the end table. “Hi. Thanks for having me over again.”

“We’re happy you could come.” She stood up and gestured toward the bag I held. “Can I take that for you?”

“It’s heavy.”

“Like I don’t work out.” She laughed and took the bag from me. She pointed to Larry, taking his seat on his throne of a recliner. “Look who I have to keep up with.”

“You should see what she can bench,” said Larry, proudly as she began her way into the kitchen. “When you’re in there, can you get me another one, Babe?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you both one from the fridge,” she called back.

I glanced over at Jessie, who was still smiling at me. That seemed like an invitation. At least I took it that way, and I claimed a seat next to her. As I sat down, I would’ve started chatting her up had Larry not begun a tirade against the referees in the final seconds of the game. When the game was over and Larry’s yelling had ended, Jessie said to me, “So what did you do yesterday?”

“I had to work,” I answered, and leaned back onto the pillows. “I think I’m going to offer an amendment on the defense bill when it comes to the floor in a few weeks.”

“Really?” She turned toward me, spreading out on the sofa so her arm rested atop the cushion, almost touching me. While I wondered if it was a conscious or subconscious act or completely meaningless, she asked, “What are you going to do?”

“Well, right now, I’m just trying to make sure I’m not doing something crazy with no support. I’ve been making calls.”

“What’s so crazy?”

“It’s a personal beef of mine that I think a lot of Americans share, but no one’s touched it.” He shrugged. “I thought I might try.”

“So what is it?”

“We’re spending billions of dollars building and funding schools and medical clinics in Iraq and Afghanistan, but our own schools and health care for the poor are underfunded. I want to tack a rider onto the defense bill to make it so that every dollar we spend overseas on those things is matched by spending for the same in the U.S. The money would come from the existing defense appropriations.”

“Really?” Jessie said, as she leaned in closer to me. “I think that’s brilliant.”

“Thanks.”

She tapped her mouth with her finger in thought. “I’d support it as long as the funds came from some kind of outdated weaponry we need to end anyway.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t support taking money from general defense spending.”

“Well, look at you.” I laughed. “For a Democrat, you sure are a little hawk.”

“Army family and a military district,” she said, lifting her hands as if it were self-evident. “We’ve got troops on food stamps. There’s fat in the defense budget, but you need a scalpel to trim it.”

“I don’t mind adding a restriction like that, especially if it gets me more votes,” I said.

“Lucky for you,” Trish piped up as she placed Larry’s beer on the end table. She handed another to me. “There aren’t too many Democrats like her. You’d get the support of the majority of the caucus I’m sure. I like the idea, too.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you like it, but in my own party I’ve got problems.”

“But there are plenty of Republicans who will vote for that,” said Jessie.

Larry frowned. “The wars are unpopular. People hate ‘nation-building.’ It’s the kind of things that guys like my teammates would support.

“And it’s a way to fund those things without touching non-defense discretionary spending,” said Jessie.

“It’s a great idea.” Trish nodded. “I’m sure it would pass—it would be close, but I bet it would pass the House.”

“That’s really encouraging to hear. I talked with the Republican leadership, and got the best answer I could from them. They’ll be neutral,” I said. “But I think Vic Nagle is going to co-sponsor it, so I’ve got one Republican.”

“And an old-timer. That’s fantastic,” said Jessie.

“But I’m having a hard time finding a Senate sponsor.” I winced. “I don’t want it to die there.”

“Will your Illinois Senators support it?” asked Trish.

“They’ll vote for it, but they don’t want to sponsor it,” I said. “I need to find another Republican.”

“You need some Democratic co-sponsors as well,” Trish said.

“That way it would be easier for the White House to support it—or at least hold their nose to it—when the Pentagon objects.” Jessie grimaced. “And you know they will.”

“Yeah, I just want to get a Republican on board before I cast about for Democrats.” I studied her for a moment, and then what I thought was a great idea came to me, but as I spoke, I became less confident. It felt like I was sixteen and about to ask her out on a date. “Would you maybe want to co-sponsor it? You’d be great to have on the amendment.”

Jessie’s eyes widened, and she grinned as her cheeks turned a slight pink. “Well,” she said, as if debating the issue in her own mind. She glanced to Trish for guidance.

Trish gave me a wary look. “I don’t think Jessie is who I had in mind when I said you needed a Democrat, but it makes a lot of sense you would want her… on your bill.”

“Right,” I said, not quite sure if Trish was speaking entirely about the amendment. “She’s a moderate and new. She doesn’t carry that much baggage.” I regretted the last statement as I saw Jessie’s brow furrow. I backtracked and followed up with a nonchalant, “You know what I mean.”

”Sure,” she said with an unconvincing nod.

“I mean you’d be a real asset. You’d be seen as an honest supporter of the amendment, not some old Democrat trying to stick it to Republicans. You’d be great. It also would be fun to work with you.” I stopped for a moment when I realized I was repeating myself. Feeling like a fool, I offered a way out for both of us. “I understand if you wouldn’t want to. It’s kind of a lightning rod.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d like to. It’s important, and it would be nice to work together.”