Incumbent

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Incumbent Page 2

by Joanne Schwehm


  He released a long breath and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

  A little nervous, I looked down and gathered my papers from my desk so I could take them home to grade over the weekend.

  “Ms. Washburn?”

  Our eyes met, and he held my gaze. It was practically hypnotic, but thankfully I found my voice.

  “Please, call me Lucy.”

  “Lucy, may I ask you something else?”

  I nodded, and before he spoke, his gaze flicked to my left hand, which was resting on my desk. Was he looking for a ring? I’d glanced at his ring finger when he spoke to my class, and noticed it was bare.

  He smiled. “Would you like to have dinner with me one night?”

  Before I could answer, a short man I’d never seen before stood in the doorway and cleared his throat.

  “Ben, I’ll be right with you.” Drake’s curt tone didn’t faze the man, who took a step into my classroom. “So, dinner?”

  Again, I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

  “Senator, we have another engagement.” The man twisted his left wrist to look at his watch. He was definitely in a hurry.

  Drake shot a glare his way and then looked to me for my answer.

  Quickly, before being interrupted again, I replied, “I’d like that.”

  “Great.” He handed me a business card. “Call that number?” He straightened in front of me, his gaze expectant.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I reached into my purse for my cell phone and dialed the number. When his phone rang, he answered it, even though he was standing less than two feet away from me.

  His eyes never left mine as he said, “Now you have my number and I have yours.” With my phone pressed to my ear, his deep voice came through the receiver and in person, all sexy in stereo. “I’ll call you.”

  With that, he walked out the door followed by Ben, who glanced back at me as if he was trying to solve the Times crossword puzzle. Maybe it was just political paranoia that narrowed his beady eyes, but the man made me nervous.

  Disconcerted over what had transpired in the last few minutes, I sat down at my desk and gathered the homework papers from my in-box so I could grade them. As I was arranging them neatly, I glanced to the door to see my friend and co-worker Mason strolling in.

  “What’s up, buttercup?”

  I smiled. “The usual, grading papers and avoiding traffic.”

  Mason and I became friends our sophomore year at James Mason University when I transferred in from Colorado, and that friendship deepened during our studies in the master’s program. We were elated when we both were offered positions at the same school.

  Now Mason was my best friend, and he knew me better than anyone. He was my confidant, and I considered him family—my only family.

  Making himself at home, he perched on the edge of my desk, casually tossing an apple from hand to hand as he grimaced at the pile of reports I needed to read.

  “Damn! I’m so glad I’m a math teacher.” He shook his head before smiling at me. “So, I saw Mr. Politician strolling out of here. You should have seen all the women in the office drooling over the man when he picked up his visitor badge.”

  “Really? They were drooling?” I shook my head in disbelief, although I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  Jealous? Maybe.

  Surprised? No.

  Surprised I was jealous? Absolutely.

  “How did it go?” he asked. “I know you were excited to have him here today.”

  I didn’t answer right away because if anyone could see through me, it would be Mason. “He was very professional, just like I expected him to be.”

  “Now you sound like a politician. How about a truthful answer?” He took a bite from the apple and narrowed his eyes at me.

  Folding my arms over my chest, I leaned back in my chair to look up at him. “Drake was extremely charismatic and very kind.”

  “So, it’s Drake, is it?” He gave me a bemused smile. “You’re on a first-name basis with the senator. What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Washburn?” He pursed his lips, his laugh lines deepening around his eyes as he waited for me to reply.

  “Don’t you have a team to coach or something?” I picked up a student’s paper and pretended to read it.

  “No, I coach soccer, remember? It’s a fall sport and this is spring, in case you’ve forgotten.” He snatched the paper I wasn’t reading from my hand. “Spill it, Luce.”

  “He wants to have dinner with me. But I don’t know.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping to keep the smile in check that was itching to burst free. If Mason thought I was considering going out with Drake, he wouldn’t let up. My best friend had told me on more than one occasion that he thought I needed to date and get out more.

  “I think we need to discuss this over drinks.” Mason slid off my desk and tossed his half-eaten apple in my wastebasket. “Come on. Grab your things and let’s get out of here.”

  He grabbed my tote bag and held it open as if he were trick-or-treating, grinning at me expectantly.

  Knowing he wouldn’t give up, I placed the papers inside and grabbed my purse. “Where to?”

  “Let’s just head over to Juno’s. It’s close to the highway and the Metro.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and we left my classroom.

  • • •

  Juno’s was filled with businesspeople, which was the norm for a weekday happy hour. Mason found us an open table in the noisy room, sandwiched between a large table of female coworkers loudly exchanging tales about their day, and a two-top with a couple who, based on the sultry looks they were giving each other, looked like they might be having an affair.

  A waitress stopped by our table and took one look at Mason before practically fawning over him. And who could blame her? Mason was adorable, with longish brown hair that glinted with natural copper highlights. It constantly fell into his eyes, which made every woman want to reach out and brush it back.

  “What’s your pleasure?” she said to him, her voice dripping with innuendo.

  “Heineken for me.” Mason smiled and shot me a sly wink.

  She reluctantly turned her attention to me. “And for you?”

  “I’ll have a cranberry and vodka, please.”

  The waitress gave Mason one more glance before she sashayed away. He chuckled as he turned away from her and looked at me.

  “What? Why is your nose all scrunched up like you smelled a skunk?”

  “Could she be more obvious?”

  His eyebrow shot up. “Probably, but she’s not my type.”

  “Tall, blond, and stacked isn’t your type? Since when?”

  I laughed as Malibu Barbie came back to our table. She placed my drink down and gracefully slid a green bottle in front of Mason. Turning her back to me, she cocked her hip and focused on him.

  “Anything else I can get you?”

  Mason’s lips twisted into a small smile. “Not for me.” Barely glancing at her, he turned a tender gaze on me. “Honey? Did you need anything else?”

  I tried to stifle my snicker. “No, but thank you for asking, sweetheart.”

  Blondie looked at me and then back to Mason as if she was trying to figure out why he was with me. “Let me know if you change your mind,” she said with a sniff, and left the tab on the table. This time when she walked away, there was a little less sass in her sashay.

  Grinning at Mason, I said, “I don’t know why you don’t go for one of the women who come on to you. Don’t worry about me; you should go out and have a good time. Lord knows your pickings aren’t slim.”

  “So, the senator . . .” Completely dismissing what I’d said, Mason pinned his gaze on me as I swirled the little plastic stirrer in my drink.

  Averting my eyes, I said, “He asked me to dinner.” I took a sip of my cocktail before slowly looking up at him.

  “And? What did you say?” Mason aske
d, his voice laced with concern.

  I knew why, of course, but I also knew he’d be happy that I’d decided to take a chance.

  “I said yes.”

  CHAPTER 2

  ~ Drake ~

  The little black dress that had hugged Lucy’s curvy body made me thankful I wasn’t a student in her class. If I were, there was no way I would have been able to maintain good grades; my concentration would have flown right out the window. Or down to my pants.

  I sat in the passenger seat of my BMW M5, going through e-mails on my phone as Ben navigated DC traffic, headed back to my office. His face was twisted in a scowl, and he cleared his throat.

  Looking up from my phone, I drawled, “Is there something you’d like to say?”

  The way his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, almost wringing it like a wet towel, I knew he had something rattling around in his brain. If he weren’t such a good campaign manager, I would have found someone else long ago. Ben was blunt and abrasive, which could be incredibly annoying.

  “You shouldn’t have asked her out,” he said as he brought the car to a stop in front of the Senate Office Building. Frowning at me, he added, “Someday you’ll understand that you aren’t just an ordinary person. There are people who can bring down your career in an instant.”

  “Ben, do you honestly think a high school teacher is high risk? Shit, look at some of the women you’ve set me up with.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “The difference is, I’ve vetted them before you’ve gone out, and most are just women I’ve come to know who understand why they’re with you. It isn’t their first time in the political rodeo. They know the score.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, a political rodeo, and I’m sure they’ve ridden their share of politicians.” Sobering, I said, “Do me a favor and don’t dig into Ms. Washburn’s past. I want to find out about her on my own.”

  His lips formed a tight line. “I advise against that, Drake.”

  As we exited the car and took the steps up to the office, I tossed over my shoulder, “Noted.”

  Once I was in my office and behind closed doors, I pulled out my phone again. Not wanting to appear too forward—or even worse, hard up—I sent Lucy an innocent message, hoping it would spark a conversation.

  No, that wasn’t completely true. I wanted her to be thinking of me just as I thought of her.

  DRAKE: Thank you for having me in your class today.

  I had an event I needed to attend tonight, but I knew my mind would be elsewhere—on a particular teacher with a body that could stop even DC traffic.

  • • •

  Three hours later, I walked into the lobby of the hotel hosting the event. Typical for our nation’s capital, tonight was a formal event, which meant tuxedos and evening gowns. I’d much rather be wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but that wasn’t my reality. At least, not tonight.

  Contrary to what people might believe, politicians didn’t spend the majority of their time sitting in Congress or meeting with constituents. The reality of politics was that the moment you won an election, you set your sights on the next one, and that meant fundraising. Tonight’s event was primed to raise a lot of money for our party, and I had to be there. With the primary coming up in a couple of months, I needed to be front and center, shaking hands and wooing donors. And events like this was how it was done.

  My date and sister, Gretchen, was waiting for me when I arrived.

  “You know, big brother, you really need to get a girlfriend,” she said, laughing.

  I kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, Gretch.”

  My sister looked lovely tonight, as always, accustomed to dressing up and playing her part as my usual plus-one. As we walked into the ballroom of the posh hotel, she slipped her arm through mine.

  “You look great,” I told her. “I’ll have to make sure everyone sees you.”

  “What else is new? But you forget that I’m off-limits.”

  “Yes, your fantastic traveling boyfriend. You could do so much better than that tool.”

  Her clutch bag connected with my chest with a thud.

  “Damn, what the hell do you have in that thing?” I winced, rubbing at my chest before frowning at her.

  “Just because you don’t like Scott doesn’t mean I don’t. We’ve been together a long time, and yes, he’s gone a lot, but you should be happy about that. If he weren’t,” she said with a pointed look, “you’d need to get yourself an actual date for these shindigs.”

  Gretchen had that look in her eye. Knowing my sister was getting riled up, I let it go.

  Just inside the ballroom, we did our meet-and-greets with the event organizers and chatted with a few colleagues of mine. Naturally, I didn’t fess up to her being my sister, not that I needed to. Most knew who she was. She was still the best decoy I could have, and with her on my arm, no man in their right mind would come on to her, which put her boyfriend’s mind at ease.

  Curiosity and impatience got the best of me, so I pulled out my cell phone and glanced at the screen before slipping it back into my inside jacket pocket. No text. It was going to be a long night. The more my thoughts drifted to the sexy schoolteacher, the more I could envision cold showers in my future.

  The band struck up a lively number, and when Gretchen gave me the eye, I escorted her to the dance floor. She loved to dance, and the least I could do to pay her back for accompanying me was to indulge her.

  “How was your day?” she said. “You went to a high school, right?”

  I took a deep breath, thinking about the auburn-haired beauty I’d met today. Lucy’s brown eyes had filled with excitement at the topic of politics, and I wanted—no, needed—to get to know her better. She was not only beautiful and sexy, but smart too, and we had at least one thing in common. The woman intrigued me; it had been a while since I’d met anyone as genuine and interesting.

  “It was great, actually,” I said, looking past Gretchen’s shoulder and not meeting her eyes.

  That was all I needed to say for my sister to raise a brow.

  Luckily for me, we were interrupted by one of the event’s organizers, who had someone he wanted me to meet, so I didn’t need to elaborate. But knowing my sister, she wasn’t about to let it go.

  After we mingled for another hour and had dinner, which we only picked at in order to keep up conversation at the table, we left and went to a diner to grab a sandwich. Granted, we were a tad overdressed, me in a tux and Gretchen in a floor-length black gown, but we were famished.

  We slid into a vinyl-cushioned booth, and I set my phone on the table next to my plate. A waitress bustled over and dropped a couple of menus on our table, and left after taking our drink orders.

  Gretchen gave me a knowing look. “You know, if I were a real date and not your sister, I’d get a complex.”

  “What do you mean?” I glanced up from the menu.

  “That’s the second time you’ve looked at your phone. I’d expect Josh or one of our other brothers to be waiting for a woman to call, but not you.” She laughed and took a sip of her soda as soon as the waitress set it down.

  “Who says I’m waiting for Lucy to call? And furthermore, why wouldn’t I have women calling?”

  “Lucy?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Who’s Lucy?”

  I leaned back and tossed my napkin to the table on an exhale. “The teacher. From today.”

  Gretchen shimmied in her seat as if she were polishing it, and rested her elbows on the table. She cradled her chin in her clasped hands. “I’m listening. Spill it, Senator.”

  “There isn’t much to spill. I sent her a text earlier, that’s all.”

  “I’m not buying it. There’s more to this story.” Her eyes widened with excitement. “Senator Prescott, do you have a crush?” She batted her lashes.

  Frustrated, I let out a huff. “Seriously, Gretch? And please stop with the senator title for a while.”

  My little sister saw right through me. Although I was the oldest and she was the younge
st of our siblings, she knew me better than anyone.

  “But you are a senator.” When she noticed I wasn’t amused, she backed off. “Fine, I’ll knock it off, but I want to hear about this woman who’s apparently taken up residence in your head.”

  Just the thought of Lucy made my pulse beat a bit faster, and an image popped in my head of her in my arms, with my lips devouring hers.

  “Hello,” came across the table from me in a singsong voice, interrupting my fantasy. Gretchen snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Still here, you know.”

  I shrugged. “She’s beautiful, smart, and sexy,” I said, tossing my sister a metaphorical bone.

  Gretchen leaned her elbow on the table and propped her head in her hand, waiting for me to continue.

  “I don’t know what else to say. She’s interesting.”

  “Interesting, smart, and sexy.” Gretchen waggled her eyebrows. “Sounds like your kind of woman.”

  “You forgot beautiful.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  Our waitress reappeared carrying steaming plates, and I sighed with relief.

  Pulling my plate toward me, I focused on my food rather than face my sister. “There isn’t one.”

  Ignoring her dinner, Gretchen frowned at me. “Okay, you officially lost me. If there isn’t a problem, then why not go for it?”

  “Is that it? Go for it?”

  “Does there need to be more?”

  She was right; nothing more needed to be said. Hell, even that didn’t need to be said. I knew I needed to get to know Lucy, but for some reason, I felt the need for someone else to tell me it was okay. And not just anyone—someone in my family, someone I could trust.

  Once I was back in my brownstone an hour later, I settled into bed and clicked on ESPN. Most of my colleagues watched C-SPAN, or at least claimed to, but I needed to decompress and get some sports action in. The Nationals played Baltimore tonight, and I just wanted a score.

  I watched the ticker scroll across the bottom of the screen, and before I knew it, the sun was shining, and I still didn’t know the outcome of the game.

 

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