In Bed With the Opposition Page 11

  Ethan leaned in and whispered, “I can wait you out, Grace. That’s my New Year’s resolution. We’ve been down this road before, but this time, I’m playing for keeps.”

  Chapter Ten

  The first thing Ethan needed was a campaign headquarters. Given the state of the professor’s finances, an old Winnebago parked in the driveway would have to do. A camper might not be an ideal office, but it had a bathroom, electricity, a bedroom with a foldout couch, and that was more than Ethan could say about some apartments he’d lived in back in the day.

  Sure, he’d gotten used to working with expansive budgets, but he hadn’t been born rich. He could make do.

  On the other hand, it’d been a long time since he’d slept on a lumpy mattress or a foldout couch. And he was going to need that space to use as a supply closet. Maybe he’d keep his luxury hotel suite. But everything else was going on the campaign’s tab.

  In attendance at the first meeting: Ethan, the professor, the volunteer coordinator, and some grad student named Morris, who appeared to be there only for the free coffee and doughnuts. Grabbing a jelly-filled one for himself, Ethan called the meeting to order. “The finance news is bleak. We’ve collected about four hundred bucks in donations.”

  “Is that enough to run an ad?” Professor Kim asked.

  Ethan barked with laughter. “It’s not even enough for pamphlets to paper your neighborhood.”

  Professor Kim peered at him owlishly over the rims of his silver glasses. “So what do we do?”

  Ethan delivered the bad news as bluntly as he could. “You need to get on the phone and call everybody you ever met in your life, and ask them for cash. You need to contact everybody—especially colleagues who feel the same way you do about pandemic diseases. Friends, relatives, ex-wives…whatever it takes.”

  The professor didn’t look pleased, but nodded like a man being sent into battle. Of course, Ethan was just getting warmed up. “We also need to research how local businesses might be affected by a severe outbreak of flu, then send our people out to ask for corporate donations. So what are our volunteers doing tomorrow?”

  PolitiGal, the new volunteer coordinator, took a big gulp of coffee. “All three of them are going to a concert this weekend.”

  Morris looked up from his biochemistry homework. “Are there any more jelly doughnuts?”

  Right. So this was the snapshot of the campaign. Ethan had a lot of work to do.

  …

  The first two weeks of January were a blur for Grace; as the Senate got ready to go into recess, Senator Halloway was anxious to get his bill onto the calendar and piled more work on her desk than usual. The campaign was trying to defend itself against the headlines Grace had warned about, and the senator was losing ground among Hispanics. That was Blain’s problem to deal with, but on a blustery morning in early January, he showed up on the Hill and pulled her into a conference room.

  He paced in front of the table, rolling up his shirtsleeves as if he were preparing for a knock-down-drag-out. “One of my volunteers just told me that he saw you dancing with Ethan Castle on New Year’s Eve. You didn’t break things off with him?”

  Grace weighed her options. She really didn’t want Blain to find out this way. But she’d already told the senator, so she couldn’t deny it. “No. I’m dating Ethan.”

  Blain actually reeled. “Dating?”

  Grace gave a pained smile. “Seeing? Courting? Wooing?”

  Blain fell into the chair. Was he jealous or was this going to be about the campaign? Grace bet on the latter. “I don’t believe this, Grace! After the way he played you… Did it somehow slip your mind that he’s on the other team? How could you do this to my grandfather?”

  Too bad she hadn’t put actual money on it. “I’m not doing anything to your grandfather. Senator Halloway gave me his blessing.”

  Blain raised an eyebrow. “You told him?”

  Grace blanched. “Well, not everything.”

  Stooping his shoulders, he gave her a baleful look. “I knew you were pissed off after Thanksgiving. And maybe I deserve it, but I never thought you’d sell me out.”

  “What does my dating Ethan have to do with you?”

  “You know exactly what it has to do with me. When I used the senator’s name to pressure folks on the majority leader’s staff to give Dale Delmont a job…well, let’s just say that wasn’t my finest hour. I did it for you and we’ve both kept it quiet because those pictures stopped being newsworthy about five minutes after they were taken. They’d still be a nonstory if you stayed away from him. But now? Ethan Castle is a high-profile guy and you’re working for a US senator. Your affair, combined with what I did to help you cover it up, could become a legitimate news story. And it’d come with illustrations.”

  Affair. He made it sound like she was dating a married man. How dare he try to shame her? For most of her life, Grace had let Blain push her around. And not just Blain. She liked to please people, to make herself useful and valuable. But that didn’t mean she had to put up with everything and anything he wanted to dish out, did it?

  Grace stiffened her spine. “I’m not doing anything wrong, Blain. What’s more, I wasn’t doing anything wrong when those pictures were taken either. Reckless? Sure. Embarrassing? Definitely. But we were both consenting adults.”

  Blain shook a blond forelock out of his face. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad about what you did back then. I’m trying to make you feel bad about what you’re doing now. You’re hurting my grandfather and you’re risking your career and mine.”

  The chill winds howling outside seemed to sweep through Grace’s veins. “What are you really afraid of, Blain?”

  “I’m afraid that our opponent’s campaign manager is going to find out what we did—that we gave in to blackmail—and use it to attack my grandfather’s reelection bid. You seem to conveniently forget that Ethan Castle is the enemy. You can’t expect me to be happy that you’re in bed with the opposition.”

  She wasn’t exactly in bed with Ethan, at least not yet. Though she planned to remedy that, soon. But she cringed because Blain actually did have a point. “I get why you’re nervous. I don’t want Ethan to find out any more than you do. It’s humiliating. I’m not going to tell him. But you need to realize this isn’t a casual thing with me and Ethan…”

  He looked astonished. “Just how serious is this relationship?”

  How serious? Grace had planned out her whole life with Blain since she was a girl. With Ethan, she didn’t know where anything was going. “I’m not writing Grace Castle a hundred times in my notebook if that’s what you mean.”

  “Good, because you can’t see him again until after the election. Break it off.”

  “No.”

  He actually did a double take. He was probably wondering what happened to the pushover who used to live in Grace’s skin. Truthfully, Grace was kind of wondering that herself.

  “Grace, I’m telling you—”

  “And I’m telling you no. I’m not some kid with a crush that you can order around, Blain. Ethan and I have feelings for each other.”

  Blain’s jaw clenched. “You may have feelings for him, but mark my words, nothing matters more to Ethan Castle than winning.”

  “You’re wrong,” Grace said stubbornly. “I know him better than you do. We’re professionals and we’re making it work. Get over it.”

  …

  Unfortunately, Grace’s feeling of smug triumph was short-lived. Three days later, on Martin Luther King Day, Nancy Jackson declared her intention to challenge Kip Halloway for his Senate seat.

  The popular comptroller claimed to have been pushed into the race by the senator’s rant in the McDonald’s, which had created a firestorm with advocacy groups. It was a natural issue for Nancy Jackson to latch onto, and her campaign was already doing a lot of damage with it.

  Grace couldn’t help but feel as if this was her fault. Nancy Jackson wouldn’t have put her hat in the ring if Professor Kim hadn�
�t done it first. And Professor Kim wouldn’t have had a campaign if Ethan hadn’t taken the job to be near her.

  The next morning, Grace screwed up her courage and knocked on the big office door. “How are you feeling, Senator?”

  He had the environmental bill spread out in front of him; unlike many senators, he made a good-faith effort to actually read the legislation, even though it put a terrible strain on his eyes. “Betrayed. That’s how I feel. Jackson went on television and said I was a beloved public servant but it was time to take car keys away from Grandpa.”

  Grace winced. That sentiment would resonate with voters who loved Senator Halloway but thought he was getting too old.

  It also hurt him deeply. “I campaigned for her. I went to bat for her and now she’s calling me a senile old bat.”

  She wished he wouldn’t take it quite this personally. “You once told me ninety percent of what anybody says in a campaign is baloney.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Then Grace watched him pull himself together as he’d done so often in the face of adversity. It was something in his eyes, the way his mouth took a firmer line. He’d done it when his most important bills went down in flames on the Senate floor, he’d done it when his wife died, and he did it now. “Well, I was getting bored, anyway. I guess I should be grateful to her for making this campaign interesting.”

  “That’s the spirit, sir.”

  Then her boss got a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I don’t suppose you could start dating someone from the Jackson campaign, too…”

  “You’re incorrigible!”

  “And you work too hard, Grace. The Senate’s in recess. Go home. On second thought, go somewhere you can’t get any work done.”

  “But, sir, I’ve got—”

  “Get out of here before I pitch a fit.”

  …

  Ethan totally dug the fact that Maryland’s state sport was jousting. He could appreciate the Oriole as the state bird. He liked the weird racing-style heraldic state flag. And he even got why the state had an official crustacean. But jousting?

  That was badass.

  Unable to pass up a good metaphor, he’d visited a dealer on the Eastern Shore and picked up a lance to bolt onto the campaign headquarters where he rallied the troops under a cold gray sky. “Politics is a kind of combat,” he explained. “We may be working out of a camper. We may be using our opposition research to burn as kindling for warmth, but we’re soldiers and we’ll tough it out through November.”

  Ethan’s volunteers were inspired to paint a huge Kim for Senate sign on the side of the Winnebago and he didn’t stop them, even though he worried that the paint would freeze.

  It was a cold January, but when he saw Grace’s car pull into the driveway, he got warm all over. Ethan took out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Morris. “Can you guys go make a doughnut run? And take your time about it.”

  Luckily, he never had to ask Morris twice.

  “This is a nice surprise,” Ethan said, leading Grace into the camper where a paused game of video golf flickered on the television.

  “I’m not speaking to you,” she sniffed.

  “You came a long way to not speak to me.” Ethan picked up his Wiimote and angled it to show off his perfect golf swing. He had a pretty good guess what this was about; she was pissed about Nancy Jackson jumping in the race. “It’s just politics, Grace.”

  She actually balled her fists like a little cartoon figure. “It’s not just politics. Kip Halloway has spent his whole life serving the public, and now he has to fight for his job and suffer insults from people who aren’t fit to shine his shoes.”

  “That’s how democracy works. Nobody’s entitled to be Senator for Life without question or challenge.”

  She lifted her chin as if she was going to argue with him, then her better sense prevailed. “You’re right…but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Ethan sighed. Sometimes her loyalty bordered on fanaticism. She was one of the true believers. She drank whatever Kool-Aid Halloway handed out. Ethan never did that. He might like a candidate. He might even work extra hard for one he thought deserved to win. But he never forgot people had feet of clay and that in elections, somebody always went home a loser. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ve got waffles in the freezer…”

  “You’re offering me Eggos?”

  “Is that not…good?” Ethan really wished she would have informed him if she had rules against frozen food.

  But Grace threw her briefcase onto the foldout couch, which was her way of giving in. So he dug the freezer-burned waffles out and tried to figure out how to use the toaster oven. “You don’t have to worry so much, Grace. Kip Halloway is an icon.”

  Grace shrugged. “And Blain knows what he’s doing. He’s driven and ruthless when it comes to campaigns. Kind of like you.”

  Ethan didn’t like the comparison. “Should I be insulted?”

  “Take it as a compliment. Growing up, I always thought Blain was everything I wanted in a guy.”

  Ethan’s hand froze over the toaster oven buttons at that revelation. But if Grace noticed his consternation, it didn’t stop her from blundering on.

  “Both of you care more about the campaign than about governing. I mean, what if Dr. Dark Ages actually won? Sure, he could handle all germ-related policy, but what would he do about the transportation budget?”

  Ethan didn’t answer because his head was still back on the part where she had said Blain Halloway was everything she wanted in a guy. Brooding, he laid out their feast on the foldout table. Let Halloway compete with burned waffles and congealed syrup if he dared!

  They ate their waffles with plastic forks in silence because the conversation had nowhere else to go. When she was done eating, she seemed notably less pissed at him, so Ethan threw her a Wiimote. “Play with me.”

  Grace dangled the controller like it was a dead rat. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

  “Best time to play. Let’s box.”

  “You’d hit a girl?”

  “You’re tough. You can take it,” Ethan taunted, plugging in the necessary nunchuks.

  Grace laughed. “I realize you don’t have a real job, what with recruiting pretty bloggers and making doughnut runs, but—”

  “Come on, you know you want to hit me. Every time you think about Nancy Jackson entering the race, throw a punch. I’ll even let you win!”

  “I don’t do this kind of thing,” Grace said.

  “Have fun, you mean? I know. It’s something I plan to change about you.”

  “Don’t you like me the way I am?”

  Oh, he did, which was puzzling because she was a truly maddening woman.

  Grace surrendered, kicking off her heels, and fifteen minutes later, she was throwing jabs like a pro. Their on-screen boxers pummeled each other until Ethan sent hers to the mat. “Knockout!” he called.

  Grace laughed with girlish abandon, spikes of her dark hair angled in wild directions. “You said you’d let me win.”

  “I lied. It’s just not in me to let anybody win.”

  She whacked him in the stomach, for real.

  “Ooof!” Ethan used the opportunity to grab her wrist and pull Grace toward him. She was warm and damp from boxing; he loved the scent of her. He tilted her chin toward him, and saw the reservation in her eyes. She was probably drawing up one of those infuriating lists of all the reasons that she should go, so he kissed her long, hard, and convincingly.

  When he finally stopped, she looked dazed. “What was that about?”

  “I’m making a point,” he said.

  “What point would that be?”

  “That you want me.”

  Then he kissed her again. This time she wilted in his arms, and he could see that she had no plans of leaving now. “What point were you making that time?”

  “That I want you,” he said, his voice dropping.

  He tried to calculate exactly how much longer his volunteers would be
gone on their doughnut run and whether or not he could just walk Grace back into the bedroom-cum-supply closet and bend her over the copy machine.

  She must have had the same thing in mind, because she asked, “Is there—is there somewhere private?”

  Ethan gave it a moment’s thought, glad that he’d leased a very fast sports car for the duration of the campaign. “We could break all land-speed records back to my hotel…but how about I just lock the door? Hell, what if I barricade the door?”

  Chapter Eleven

  She wanted him. She’d shown up here hungry, guilt-ridden, and angry. He’d fed her, reasoned with her, and even made her laugh.

  He’d taken care of her.

  And more astonishingly, she’d let him.

  Now he searched her eyes for permission to take care of another need altogether…an urgent need that burned inside her like a five-alarm fire. She wanted him so bad that her heart beat double-time and readiness ached between her thighs. This time, Ethan Castle wasn’t just going to happen to her. This time, he was a choice. Her choice.

  With a deep steadying breath, Grace walked to the door, locked it, then leaned back with a playful smile. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He grinned, eagerness in his eyes.

  It made her giddy. “This is going to be good, right?”

  “Oh, we can do better than good, Grace. We can do amazing.”

  He moved to pounce on her, but a few last niggling worries made themselves heard over the rush of her own blood in her ears. “Can we close the blinds?”

  Ethan reached over and snapped the slats closed so hard he nearly ripped them off the window. “Done.”

  “The ones in the back room, too?”

  Using one hand to hurdle over the chair in his way, he hurried to what appeared to have once been a cramped bedroom now filled with electronics, campaign pamphlets, and charts. Grace followed. “You know, I could come up with a better organizing system for this.”

  Ethan pulled the blinds closed, plunging the room into semidarkness. “Forget about the mess. There’s something else in this room that needs your attention…”