A Political Affair (24 page)

He turned to Helen with what looked to be a forced smile.
“I need to run to a meeting. It’s quicker if I take the stairs.”

“Of course. We can talk later,” she said, suppressing a giggle.

As he sped up the stairs, she preened, proud of her intuition.
So Stephen likes that girl, but he can’t do anything about it.
Amused by his predicament, she chuckled to herself; she was confident he’d be back in her bed soon enough.
 

On the second floor, Anne was telling Stacy she had a boyfriend when Stephen walked up.
 

“Good morning, Stacy . . . Anne.”

“Good morning, Senator McEvoy.” Stacy smiled at Anne. “I should be going. Nice meeting you. I hope to see you around.”
 

“Yeah, nice meeting you.”

As Stacy left them, Anne looked around furtively. Stephen had
created the worst of all situations—they were alone for the entire world to see.
She spoke at once in a hushed voice. “I was just going to get a Coke.”

“Oh, yes. Go right ahead. And have a good Christmas if I don’t see you again.” He ended with a wink.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Merry Christmas,
Senator
McEvoy.”

Later that night, Stephen greeted his mother as she arrived at the house. She said she only popped in to pick up a few Christmas presents, so he left her alone and returned to chip away at his pile of work. Half an hour later, his head was down as he read the day’s press clippings when Lillian walked into his office.

He looked up just as she placed on his desk a small piece of antique luggage made of crocodile leather and decorated with brass hardware. He eyed her warily. “What’s that?”

“Grandma McEvoy’s jewelry case—the one she traveled with. Before she became bedridden, she went through all of her jewelry and put everything she thought worth keeping inside this case.”

“So?”

“When she died, she gave the case and its contents to your father.”

He shrugged and stated what he thought was obvious. “And now it’s yours.”

“Ha! You know she always hated me. I’m the last person in this family my mother-in-law would want her jewelry to go to. I’ve never worn a single piece of it.”

“Are there things in there for Patty and Megan? They’d probably want something from it as a Christmas present.”

“I’m not sure.” A mischievous smile brightened her face. “Have you found Anne a gift yet?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Thanks, Mom, but no. We’re not making a big deal of it. We made a pact we wouldn’t spend more than ten dollars on our gifts. I’m giving her a photo I took.”

“Nothing in this case will cost you anything.”

“True.” He wanted to give Anne something more—something special—though he doubted the jewelry case held the right gift.
“But given Grandma McEvoy’s tastes, I can’t imagine there’s anything in there that’s right for Anne.”

“Oh, I bet there is. She had a lot of jewelry—including some fine art deco pieces that were very simple, if I remember correctly.” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Let’s take a look.”

While his mom had piqued his interest about the box’s contents, he didn’t want to investigate it with her. He downplayed his interest and shut the box. “I will later. I need to get a little more work in.”

“Oh, all right.” She sighed. “Promise me you’ll look through it, though. I’m going home now. Don’t stay up too late. You need your sleep.”

“Sure. Night, Mom.”

As she said good night and left the room, he went back to his reading until he heard the front door shut. He set his papers aside, moved the case closer, and opened it. The top velvety tray was filled with flashy baubles Anne wouldn’t like. Hoping his mother was right, he removed it to search for simpler pieces. He looked at the second tray and immediately spied what his mother intended him to find; after all, she never acted without a reason. A small ring box covered in frayed, black silk sat nestled amid pearl brooches and ruby earrings. Knowing what was inside the box, his gut reaction was swift.
No . . . not yet.
 

In the wee hours of the morning a few days before Christmas, Trey Johnson sat in the only open donut shop off Interstate 70 in Colorado. He didn’t have much family, and Langford had invited him to spend the holidays with his, but Trey declined. He wanted a week in Hawaii instead. Eating breakfast before his 5:00 a.m. flight, he picked at an apple fritter and drank mediocre coffee while he read the previous day’s paper.
 

When a black Mercedes pulled up in front of the shop, he was curious, but his eyes widened when Stephen McEvoy’s chief of staff, Greg Miller, and a young woman got out of the car together. He’d met the man once at a candidate forum in Denver. He didn’t have a clue who the blonde was, and he wondered why she was with Greg, given the hour and location. Trey smiled, deciding he might need to taunt Greg—if just to see how his opposition would react.
 

When the two walked in, Trey focused on reading his e-mail to give them enough time to get their coffee and food. After they paid and moved to a station of cream and sugar, Trey cleared his throat. “Greg, isn’t it?” Trey stood and extended his hand. “I’m Trey Johnson. We met back in the summer. I work for Dan Langford.”

“Oh, hi,” Greg answered slowly, as if struggling to place him. He placed a plastic lid on his coffee and shook his hand. “Yes, I’m Greg Miller. I work for Senator McEvoy. Good to see you again.”

Trey looked at the woman for a moment and smiled at Greg as a hint he hadn’t introduced them. Greg immediately said, “Uh, Trey, this is Anne Norwood. Anne, Trey Johnson.”
 

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Anne smiled as she switched her coffee to her left hand and offered her right for a handshake.
 

“Nice to meet you.” Trey pumped her hand a few seconds longer than necessary, trying to place the girl. He’d never met her before, but her name sounded familiar, and it was somehow connected with McEvoy.
 

“We should hit the road,” Greg said, nodding at the door.
 

“Yeah, it’s late,” said Anne, as she readjusted her bag.
 

“Late for you and early for me.” Trey chuckled and stared at them. They didn’t seem like a couple—more like coworkers or friends. He wondered if Anne worked for McEvoy. Looking out the window, Trey commented, “Nice ride. Who says government work doesn’t pay?”

Greg shrugged. “I promise, it doesn’t.” His face soured after he spoke.
 

Greg’s response amused Trey, so he needled him again. “Must be nice to have a boss who lends you his car, especially a car like that.”

Shaking his head, Greg ignored the dig. “Hope you have a Merry Christmas.”
 

“You, too.” Trey chuckled and looked at Anne, hoping to learn more about her. “And Merry Christmas to you. Maybe I’ll see you again during the election.”

“Maybe,” she said. Her lips pursed, and she gave him the briefest of smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Trey said, and returned to his seat.
 

While Trey began reading again, Anne and Greg left the shop. As the door closed behind them, Anne quietly asked, “Are you worried about him seeing us together? With one of their cars?”

Greg raised his hands up and shrugged like he was estimating their odds. “I don’t know. Is it helpful? No. Do we have a reasonable explanation for everything? Yes. But I’ll tell Stephen and Patty anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay . . .” she replied. Despite his rational explanation, she wasn’t convinced, and it wasn’t just her female intuition. If she were Trey, she’d be suspicious, too.
 

A week later, high in the Rocky Mountains, Anne snuggled into her nook at Stephen’s side. After hours alone together, it was almost a primal intimacy. His scent had become a mixture of hers and his, and she felt safe from the outside world. Light snow drifted past the windows of the tiny cabin, and if the air hadn’t been so dry, the single room would’ve felt like the tropics. As they lay with the covers kicked to the bottom of the bed, she chuckled. “So this is a stove you know how to light.”

“Very funny,” he smirked and kissed her hair. “I’ve spent my whole life coming to this place. My dad and I would use it as a base camp.”

“Well, it’s a nice place to have in the backcountry. I guess I shouldn’t ask how long your family has owned this inholding.”

“I can tell you it was long before national forests.” He ran his fingers down her bare thigh.
 

“Speaking of your family. We’re alone. Aren’t we violating the rule that your family be around . . . somewhere?”

“They’re around.” He chuckled. “Somewhere.”

She didn’t laugh because she was worried. Instead, she asked hesitantly, “You don’t care?”

“No, I do.” His brow furrowed. “A lot . . . but it’s because I care about you so much.”

“What do you mean?” Confused, she wrapped the sheet tighter around her as she sat up to look him in the eye.
 

He shook his head in dismay. “This isn’t coming out right.”

“What is it?”

He sighed and smiled. “I love you,” he said as he brushed her hair off her face. “I don’t want to hurt you, or for you to get hurt by others.”

“I don’t want that for you either.” She smiled at his sweetness. “I love you, too.”

He waited a moment, and with his hand on her cheek, he said, “I’d like to meet your family.”

“Huh?”
 

“You heard me. I want to meet your parents and your brother.”

“Why?” She was dismayed and couldn’t help her immediate reaction. “Are you
insane
?”

“It sounds crazy, but listen,” he said as he took her hand. “I want your family to know about us. I want them to understand. That way if things come out, they won’t be blindsided. They’ll know we’re serious, and not
 . . .
well, not whatever the media makes us out to be.”

She took her hand away from his and pressed her temples as she debated all the ramifications. “Okay,” she said, dragging out the last syllable. “You’re right.”
 

Her hands froze as she considered what it would actually be like to tell her family, and words flew out in a state of panic. “You’re right, but oh my God, I can’t do that!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll be there, too. It’ll be fine.”

Silent for a moment, she breathed deeply and placed a hand on her heart as she became resolute. “No. I’ll tell them first, by myself. These have been my choices . . . my actions. I owe it to them. You can come over afterward.”

“That’s fine. I understand.”

“What do
you
want to say to them?” she asked warily.

“Well, I suppose I’ll start by telling them I’m in love with you.”

Anne imagined her family’s reactions to those words: her brother’s usual sneer when he found something corny, her mother’s raised eyebrows when she heard good gossip, and her father’s crushing glare when he became angry. She cringed at the thought. “Maybe you shouldn’t lead with that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course, it’s not going to be the
first
thing I say.”