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Authors: Mary Whitney

BOOK: A Political Affair
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He winced at his own words. “Okay. You’re right.”
 

“If your father had done that to me, I’d have given him the cold shoulder as well.”

Throwing his hands up, Stephen justified the rest of his actions. “But what else was I supposed to do? You agree it was right to ignore Jennifer’s comment? I never comment on my private life, and I certainly couldn’t say the truth. ‘No, I’m involved with someone else whom I love dearly.’ ”

“Oh, I agree. In fact, I think Jennifer saying you’re her boyfriend is actually helpful to you. It’s a deflection from you and Anne. But Stephen, it’s time to come clean. You two need to out yourselves before someone else does.”

He took a moment to comprehend what his mother said. “What? After all of this trouble to keep it under wraps? You want us to out ourselves in the middle of the campaign?”

“Yes. As soon as possible. I want you to publicly admit it. Admit all of it in an open forum and move on with the campaign. It’s the only way—politically and for the health of your relationship with Anne.”

Chapter 23

Stephen calculated all the possible outcomes if he were to go on the offensive and disclose his relationship with an intern. He grimaced at the thought, but his mother didn’t allow him to speak.
 

   
“I’d counsel you,” she said in the same tone she used for all of her political admonishments. “And as your mother, I’d prefer it if you disclosed your relationship by announcing your engagement. The public will be more forgiving of a relationship with an intern if you intend to marry her. They might even like the love story.”
 

“Engagement?”
 

“Oh, I know,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Normally I’m not so direct, but I feel I must be.”

“Well, I . . .” He considered the frankness of their conversation and decided to tell her everything. “I’d be happy to ask Anne to marry me tonight . . . if I thought she’d say yes.” A wry smile formed on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t she say yes?” She laughed as if it were something easily dealt with. “It’s obvious you’re in love with each other.”

“We’ve sort of talked around the issue. Maybe she’d say yes, with the condition we wait a few years.” He shifted his weight in his chair. “I hate to say it, but I think that’s a reasonable request—given her age and my past.”

“Hmmm.” She was quiet for a moment. “Well, your past has done you no favors. As for her age, I’d suggest you ask her after she graduates in May. Let her get one big rite of passage out of the way—that might help. And you don’t have to get married for a while, but you’ll at least be engaged. It’s a nice compromise.”

He cocked his head to the side as he focused on the urgency of her request. “But what’s the hurry? I get your reasoning for getting it out there—so we can all move on—but why the engagement and why so soon?”

“Well, all mothers want to see their children happily married. I’m no exception. And believe me—getting you and Patty settled down with nice women has been something I’ve wanted for quite a while now.”

“But what’s the urgency? Why can’t this wait? You just said we bought some time today with Jennifer’s little stunt. I’ve got Helen under control. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Oh dear,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “I suppose you’re no different than any man. You don’t think of these things.”

“What do you mean?” He curled his lip, offended by her gender stereotype.

“Do I have to explain the facts of life?” She chuckled. “As soon as you two announce your engagement, everyone is going to think she’s pregnant. The sooner we get it out there, the sooner it will become obvious she’s not. If you announce your engagement by June, you’ve got five months before Election Day. People will see in just a few months she’s not pregnant, and they’re more likely to accept you as a real couple—not some shotgun relationship. If you wait too long, it won’t be self-evident, and the question will hang over the election.”

“Oh. I didn’t even think about that.”
 

“Now, I gave you Grandma McEvoy’s jewelry case. We could—”

“Mom,” he said with his hands in the air to stop her. “Give me some time.”

“Oh, all right.” She pouted.

“I’m sorry. It’s just something I want to do myself.” He snickered. “I know you’re excited to marry off your wayward son.”
 

“Maybe,” she said, cracking a smile. “I’m allowed to be happy after all the grief you’ve put me through.”

“That’s true. So do you have any ideas on how I get out of the doghouse?”

“I suggest you grovel. It usually works.” She rose and smoothed her skirt. “I feel much better after this little talk. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Mom.”

After his mother left the room, Stephen looked out his window, and his eyes settled on the scattered spots of pink, red, white, and peach peeping through the greenery. His mother’s roses had begun their first bloom of the year. There was no conscious urge to act based on the symbolism of spring, but he jumped from his seat after seeing them. In his father’s old credenza beside his desk, he found the jewelry case. He opened it and soon spotted the frayed silk box; his great-grandmother’s diamond sat where she’d left it. He held the ring up to the light, shaking his head in distaste.
I hate it.
   

He placed the ring back in its box, and after a few taps of his phone, he heard a low male voice say hello.

Tipping his chair back, he looked at the ring and smiled. “Hey Phillip. I’ve got a project for you.”

The following month, Anne held her mortarboard and diploma in her hands as she hugged her mother. Folsom Field was crammed with over fifty thousand people attending the University of Colorado commencement, and it had taken her some time to find her family.
 

Her brother was next to grab her up in a big hug. “Congratulations, sis.”

“Thanks for coming,” she said, giving him a squeeze. “I know how boring these things are.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Even if I did have to listen to Dan Langford talk about family values—whatever the fuck that is.”

“Are you turning into a Democrat?” she asked in feigned shock.

“Hell no.” He chuckled. “But I might not vote for him if that’s all he ever talks about. Dad was so bored he kept looking at his watch.”

She laughed and turned to her father, patiently waiting for his hug. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground.
 

“Congratulations, Annie. I’m so proud of you.”
 

“Thanks, Dad.” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t prepared for the emotion overwhelming her. “I’m sorry to have been so much trouble lately,” she whispered in his ear.

“No trouble,” he said with a kiss on the cheek. “You’re just being you, and we love you for it.”

His accepting words made the tears multiply, causing her mascara to run down her cheeks. “I love you, Dad, but now I need to get myself cleaned up.” She wiped away the wet blackness and smiled.

“Go do what you need to do.” He pointed to an empty spot along a railing. “We’ll be waiting over there.”

Once she finished in the bathroom, Anne again searched for her family among the mass of bodies moving around the stadium. She found them right where her father had indicated, engrossed in conversation with another family. As she neared them, she felt a strong pull on her arm—a very familiar pull. She looked up to see Stephen.
 

He immediately took her into his arms inside a throng of screeching graduates and their families. Wearing a CU T-shirt and a Denver Rockies cap, he blended perfectly into the crowd.
 

Anne scolded him, albeit with a big smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to congratulate you, so I stopped by.” He beamed and stole a quick kiss before he brushed her nose with his. “I’m only here for a minute. Trust me.”

“How I do love you.” She sighed, throwing her arms tightly around his neck.

“I love you, and I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you. And maybe this isn’t the worst place for us. You’re pretty incognito.” She tipped his baseball hat farther down on his head. “Did you listen to Langford?”

“No way.” He grimaced.

“It was pretty bad. He only got to speak because his son was graduating from law school, but he went on and on about bringing morality back to government.”

“So he made a campaign speech out of it? The guy has no class.”

“Yeah, it was pretty pathetic.” She laughed. “My dad kept looking at his watch.”

“I’m glad I missed it.”

“Well, I’m glad you came, sweetheart.”
 

He glanced around him. “I should leave now, before . . . well, you know.”

“I know.” She nodded reluctantly, but then shook her head. “Wait. You’re supposed to be in D.C.”

“I am, but I’m here instead.” He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her again. “Next weekend. We have a date at my ranch, right?”

“Yes, we do.” After a few seconds of one last, sweet, stolen kiss, they pulled away simultaneously and parted ways.
 

A few minutes earlier, Trey hung in the back of the small mob around Dan Langford. It may have been his son’s graduation, but Langford greeted everyone like it was a campaign stop. Trey was there for that reason—he refused to let Langford go to such an event without a staffer. Unfortunately, he was now bored to death.
 

When Langford was buttonholed by a state legislator, Trey used the opportunity to make a call. In a vain attempt to get a cell phone signal, he walked along the short, open wall of the stadium. He was annoyed at the world, but he stopped abruptly when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd.
 

Lifting his head to get a better look, he caught his breath at what he saw—Stephen McEvoy kissing Anne Norwood. Before Trey even blinked, the senator disappeared into the masses of graduation gowns.
 

Trey’s heart raced as he confirmed to himself three things: he had in fact seen Stephen McEvoy, he’d witnessed McEvoy kissing Anne Norwood, and their kiss was anything but platonic.
 

Trey stared at the site of the incident. Only Anne’s head could be seen bobbing away in the distance. He was confident he’d seen her kissing a man.
But was that really McEvoy? It seems too good to be true . . .
 

He shook his head, remembering campaigns were very often won and lost on events which were too good to be true. He looked around to make sure he was alone and called Walter. The assistant tried to brush him off again, but he insisted the call was an emergency.

“Why can’t this wait? What’s so urgent?” Walter asked impatiently. “I’m going to see you at the RNC fundraiser soon.”

Trey kept his voice low because the information was too precious. “I think Stephen McEvoy is having an affair with an intern . . . well, I suppose now she’s a former intern, but still.”

“Well, well, well.” Walter chuckled, with the creak of his chair sounding into the phone. “It’s always nice when something like this happens
 . . .
except when it’s with one of ours, of course. So give me the details. How do you know?”

Recounting all the suspicious events, Trey saved the best for last.
 

As he detailed the kiss, Walter was quiet until he finished. “And you’re sure it was McEvoy?”

“I’m pretty certain. It looked like him, though he was in a baseball cap and a CU T-shirt.”

“But there must twenty thousand guys there in baseball caps and University of Colorado T-shirts.”

“I know it sounds shaky, but I think it was him. And it definitely was Anne—that I’d lay good money on.”

“But wait a second here,” Walter said slowly. “Didn’t that actress, Jennifer Hamilton, say McEvoy was her boyfriend? He got in some hot water when she said he’d carry a bill for those animal rights freaks.”

“She did call him her boyfriend, and we’ve had a great time in the press linking him to PETA.” Trey became insistent. “But I’m pretty sure I saw him kiss Anne.”

“So who is this Anne?”

“Anne Norwood. Her family are Republicans. Her dad is a county D.A. Langford knows him.”

“Just a second, I want to Google them.” The sound of taps at keyboard came across the line. After a moment of silence, Walter muttered, “We couldn’t be so lucky that McEvoy would be with a little slut in his office.”

“What do you mean?”

“Elton Norwood looks to be a respected man with a fine family.” Walter sighed. “Well, too bad for them. Collateral damage.”

“What are you going to do?” Trey asked excitedly.

“I’ll look into it. We’ll dig deep into McEvoy and get it all out. The media will love a storyline where McEvoy is a sleazebag who seduced an intern.”

“That’s so great,” Trey said under his breath.

“Does Langford know?”

“No. Langford is the last person to know. He’ll get distracted.”

“Good thinking. Plus, we need to make sure he stays on message when it does come out.” Walter was emphatic. “He can’t get high and mighty. He needs to stand down. Let the media do his work for him.”
 

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