The Goode Governor

by J J Arias

  She wanted to taste her lips. To feel the warmth of her embrace. Not because it had been so long since she experienced it, but because in that moment, she allowed herself to be enamored with a smart, stubborn, determined woman who challenged her and irritated her and refused to let her indulge in the safety of her mask.

  George craned her neck and closed the final inch between them. With the warmth of her breath, all sense of reason was gone. Mila’s lips were even softer than she’d anticipated, and her arms were so strong and secure as they wrapped around her waist. Reflexively, George’s hands shot up and tangled in her hair.

  If the contact with her lips hadn’t been enough to kill her, the tip of her tongue parting George’s lips was coronary inducing. She heard herself moan as she countered her incursion and reveled in the sensation of a deep, penetrating kiss. With none of the awkward teeth banging she’d expect from her first kiss in so many years, they fit together like a set parted by time and circumstance, only to find themselves again after memories had been forgotten and new lives lived in unwitting separation.

  Mila’s hand on the small of her back, pressing her closer, ignited the font of desire made long dormant by duty. It burst through its confines like a riptide current seeking new ground. She wanted to tear at Mila’s clothes and devour her until years fell away and no one was left in the world but them.

  The sound of locks turning sent them flying apart as if an unseen hand had yanked them backward.

  “Governor, it’s safe now,” a gruff voice said as George tried to return the feeling to her extremities. Everything that had been firing in triple time was suddenly numb and useless. Fixing her pink lipstick as she tried to walk on wobbly legs, George walked out of the cell ahead of Mila and tried to figure out what the hell she’d just done, other than recklessly risk her entire future.

  * * *

  It was Saturday and a full week after George had kissed her. She seen neither hide nor hair of her since it happened. There was no doubt the kiss was the cause of the sudden fundraiser in Daytona, followed by events in the Keys.

  Doesn’t run my ass, she thought as she replayed the event over and over in her mind. After a while, Mila plopped in her room’s window seat just to stop the pacing.

  At first, Mila had wondered if her attraction was purely physical. George was an attractive woman, no doubt about it. Then, she wondered if she was just fun to antagonize, and maybe she recognized that on some unconscious level. It would explain their strained interactions and miscommunications at the beginning. But now, she was sure. After having spent months together, she knew. Damnit, she decided. I really do like her.

  Mila’s thoughts turned to Amanda. Maybe she was right and she had picked an unattainable woman on purpose. After all, there was no denying the facts. Mila engaged her analytical mind. She was a probably straight, married woman. No. Not just that, but a fairly conservative governor of a fairly conservative state. Thinking about it made her stomach heave. She suddenly pictured her with her husband on top of her and she had to stand up to escape the mental picture.

  There’s no way she’s straight, she decided as she physically shook her head to lose of the thought. No way. Mila had danced for more than a few straight women, and they never looked at her the way George did. Hell, even some people she’d dated hadn’t looked at her with the same palpable desire.

  “That still leaves you with all the other factors,” she muttered to herself as she tossed herself dramatically onto the bed.

  The picture of her parents on the side table stared back at her. How she missed their advice. She’d barely started having real problems when her mom was no longer there to listen. Her dad had been equally levelheaded and thoughtful in his counsel, but the illness robbed her of precious years even while his body was still living.

  Fuck this. Mila laced up her running shoes and snuck downstairs. Like a ninja she crept into the library and released the dogs without being seen. The three of them snuck off like co-conspirators, eager to run outside and forget the discomfort of the Mistress’ absence.

  * * *

  “Since when do you drink Old Fashions?” Josephine asked as she came up behind her.

  George finished mixing the bitters. “Since I discovered they’re delicious,” she replied, leaving out that Mila had made her one during one of their all-night work sessions.

  Josephine chuckled. “Are you going to tell me why you just added two more stops before we go home?” she asked before swiping George’s drink and making herself comfortable on the hotel suite’s sofa.

  “I want to take advantage of the momentum and make as sweeping an impact as we can,” she replied with a whole lot of nothing as she got to work making another drink.

  “Mm hmm,” Jo muttered, taking a sip of her pilfered cocktail.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, kicking off her shoes as she joined her on the sofa.

  “And why did you bring Nathan? You’re ahead by double digits. It’s not like you need the dog and pony show,” Josephine asked, ignoring George’s question.

  George ignored her question as she crossed one leg over the other and rubbed her pantyhose covered foot. It had been a terrible time to wear new shoes.

  “And you’re going to stay quiet about having been locked in the panic room with Mila too?” she asked, ice clinking in her glass as she maintained eye contact while drinking.

  George knew it was only a matter of time before she asked. Truthfully, she was surprised she hadn’t asked her about it immediately. Her silence on the matter spoke volumes.

  “I’m sure you’re proud of that set up. Did you alter the wiring too, Cupid?” Her serious tone made her question sound more pointed than she intended.

  Josephine chuckled and raised a hand. “Can’t take blame for that part.”

  “Why did you send her with me to that fundraiser?”

  Josephine set down her empty class on the coffee table and leaned in. “Sometimes, my dear friend, you can be so smart and so blind. I’d noticed you avoiding her and thought maybe I’d help you stop running from her.”

  George narrowed her eyes. It was the second time in a week she’d been accused of being a coward prone to fleeing, and quite frankly it pissed her off. “You know all this talk of running,” she started in the middle of her racing thought, “but what do you propose I do if I catch her?” Her dark eyes were a laser on Josephine. “Have a fling? Hope that she never tells anyone about it, and then what? Eat the heart break when it’s over?” She shook her head. “No.”

  “From the outside looking in at how you two can talk for hours about statistical principles and Kantian philosophy, I don’t think a tryst is on the menu for either of you,” she observed with confidence as she stood to refresh both of their drinks.

  George scoffed. “Even better. A substantive relationship is certainly in the cards for us.”

  “Why can’t it be?”

  “Have you forgotten Karen?” George asked after a long silence. The last person she’d allowed herself to love and hope for had been as doomed as any other relationship she could have.

  Josephine nodded sadly as she returned with their drinks. “It was a lot of pressure on her, and on you,” she admitted.

  “The scrutiny is a thousand times more now than when I was in Congress. I was one in a sea of hundreds. No one knew my name, not even most of my district. And even then, you can never let your guard down.” Her chest tightened as she recalled the stress, the fear, and the constant worry.

  “Mila is a different person. I think she’s made of some really tough stuff. I mean, that girl has been through some shit.” She dropped the rare curse word for effect. “She won’t crumble under the pressure. I bet my bottom dollar on it.”

  George sighed and threw herself against the backrest. “I can’t do it again. I can’t live in secret hoping no one catches on or asks too many questions. What kind of life is that? For either of us. And she’s so young. I can’t imprison her like that.”
It always came back to the same problem.

  “This is a different time. What if you didn’t do that? Didn’t exist in hiding?”

  George nearly dropped the tumbler in her hand. With wide eyes she stared at Josephine, trying to figure out if she was joking. There was no hint of it in her face.

  “Are you insane?” she asked after a while. “What? Divorce my dear friend and sham of a husband and step out into the light as a divorcee dating not just a subordinate, but a woman almost half my age? Sure. I think that’s the sure path to ongoing political success.”

  George would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the dead serious expression on Jo’s face.

  “I think you’re discounting something without giving it some real thought,” she commented. “Now, I can’t run this through a test group for obvious reasons, but I think if you did something so bold, you might win over a completely new group of supporters. Ones more naturally in line with your own interests.”

  “Or I’ll lose both! One group will see me as a liar and a fraud, and the other side could easily think the same! That will be an accomplishment, getting two sides to bond over one thing, hating me!”

  Josephine shook her head slowly as she stood. “All I’m saying is think about it before you dismiss it. Stop living your life based on someone else’s mold. It’s just too short.”

  “Jo, what is this about? Twenty years ago, you would have never advised me to take a risk like this. Is this your way of telling me you don’t want to do this anymore, because—”

  “Marcel has prostate cancer,” she blurted, and silence reigned for a moment or two. “Now, they caught it early and his prognosis is positive, but it’s just got me thinking how short life is, Georgie. You can’t waste it all on work. What if this girl is the real deal for you, but you miss it because you’re afraid it will alter your career? I know you are your work, but what if there’s something more? Something better.”

  George leapt to her feet and embraced Josephine in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind and so self-absorbed. Are you okay? Of course you’re not okay. Jesus.”

  “I wasn’t going to mention it until after the election.”

  “After the election? Now I know you’re crazy. No, no. You’re going home. You’re not working on this. I can’t believe you let me drag you all over the state,” she exclaimed as a mix of embarrassment and fear hit her like a train.

  “Marcel insists I don’t change anything about my life or I’ll make him feel like a cancer patient. He doesn’t care that he is in fact a cancer patient,” she laughed sadly.

  “You have to take some time off. At least a few months,” she insisted.

  “I would really rather work. He’s still working too. We’re taking it one day at a time. They caught it just as soon as it was detectible.”

  There were no words to say, so George held her in a hug until the tears flowed and then stopped, leaving them both depleted and ready for bed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  In the weeks since George had been traveling throughout the State, Mila had gotten more comfortable going out at night and having something of a social life. As she pulled off her shoes to tiptoe back into the mansion, she considered that perhaps she’d gotten a little too comfortable. Tim had been nice enough to unlock the door and then scram to avoid detection. She regretted not having invited him out with Amanda and their friends. He was one of the only worthwhile people she’d met since taking the fellowship position, and she was sure he could use some horizon expansion.

  Next time, she decided as she padded down the hall with her pumps, matching the pink of her strapless dress, in one hand. She stopped short at the library. Through the frosted glass door, she could tell the light was on inside. That could only mean one thing. She straightened her back and pushed the door open.

  There she was, sitting in one of the armchairs at the center of the room, looked up from her laptop. Her hair was mussed and her big red glasses were on in place of her contacts. Instead of her usual governor attire, she was in a faded school sweatshirt and leggings. With a pencil in her mouth, she was the most gorgeous thing Mila had ever seen. She swallowed hard and perfected her posture to the breaking point.

  “Can I help you?” she asked rhetorically as she peered over the top of her red frames.

  Mila considered her next move for a moment, but instinct was already sending signals to her mouth.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact you can,” she replied, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. As soon as she was in the room, the dogs bolted toward her, jumping at her thighs with unmitigated delight and excitement. She greeted them on one knee before returning to her poised and determined position.

  “And what would you like me to do for you, Ms. Dortch?” she asked with a chill in her tone before leaning back in her seat without bothering to uncross her legs.

  “I’d like you to stop being a politician for an hour and just be completely honest with me. I’ll sign another NDA or whatever it takes. I swear under penalty of perjury that this conversation will not leave this room. But don’t run. Don’t bullshit me. Just be real. For once,” she finished her plea by hiding her trembling hands at her sides.

  The poised woman closed her laptop slowly before placing it on the coffee table. “And what would you like me to say, Ms. Dortch?”

  Mila narrowed her eyes at the calloused tone and flippant body language. It was obvious she was using formality as a shield, but Mila wouldn’t be stopped.

  “I want you to tell me the truth, George,” she countered. “What have we been doing all these months? Let’s stop kidding ourselves. The media attention died down in the first month of my being here. Instead of sending me home, you kept three of us here. Why? And why did you let me use your gym? You’re the fucking governor! You didn’t have to buy my argument about it technically being public. If you wanted to get rid of me, you could’ve actually tried.” Mila gathered steam like a warming engine as she barreled through an expressionless woman like her brakes had failed. “Morning after morning you showed up because you wanted to see me. You let me come along on your walks while we talked shop because you like being around me. Just like our late nights in this room. You’re no shrinking violet. You’re one of the most powerful people in this state. Face it,” she said, pausing to gather herself. “I’m here because you want me to be here. We spend time together because you like it. All the looks, the longing glances. I see the way you look at me. And you know why? Because it’s the same way I look at you.”

  There it was. The facts laid bare for all their uncomfortable truths. Mila’s heart pounded painfully in her chest as the silence mounted like a disease.

  “And we kissed.” She walked toward the woman sitting at the edge of the sofa inches away. While staring into her wide, chestnut-colored eyes, she put an end to the secrets. “We kissed,” she repeated, her mind lingering on the taste of her lips, “because you wanted to just as much as I did. I didn’t imagine your fingers in my hair and arms wrapped around me. I felt your desperation and it matched my own.”

  George peered back at her for a long time. Mila could sense she had a world of things to say behind the barricade of sealed lips.

  “Just talk to me,” she implored, reaching out to take her hand. When George diverted her eyes to the ground instead of taking it, Mila’s stomach dropped.

  “I’m sorry that I misled you and acted inappropriately,” she said in a low, husky voice as if she’d just woken up from a long nap.

  “That’s what you have to say to me?” Mila stood, regret, anger, and shame all taking a turn on her reddening face. “After everything I just said, all you’ve got is that I think you behaved inappropriately?” She couldn’t help the disgust that clouded her face as she shook her head. “I’ve done my part,” she announced as she turned toward the door. “If you want to live in a house built out of lies and delusion, I am nobody to stop you.”

  Her chest ached at the s
ight of brown eyes filled with unshed tears, but she had to guard her own heart first. She had tried in the only way she knew how, with direct honesty and vulnerability. There was nothing left for her to say. She’d said it all and been met with silence.

  “Good night, Governor,” she added as she closed the door behind her and raced upstairs. She made it to her room just as the sky was turning pink with the promise of a new day full of possibility. The tears stung more than the light on her sleep-starved eyes.

  * * *

  “Governor, you’re here so early. Is everything alright?” her father’s nurse asked, her face startled as she opened the door.

  “Yes, I just missed the old man. Is he awake yet?” she asked, forcing a pained smile.

  The woman put a hand to her scrub-covered chest. “You scared me,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Yes, he’s just about to sit down for breakfast. Would you like to join him? There’s plenty,” she offered brightly.

  “Thank you, very kind of you,” she replied with her politician’s grace.

  George slipped inside the house and walked to the small round table in the kitchen. Despite the formal dining room and table, they always sat in the kitchen for as long as she could remember. The ritual was comforting, and she felt herself relax as she walked through the open archway to join her dad, who was sitting in front of a steaming mug of café con leche, buttered toast, and scrambled eggs.

  “Look who’s finally up!” he said as soon as she walked in. His warmth radiated through her and lifted her spirits.

  “Good morning, Papi,” she said, bending down to give him a kiss and taking the seat next to him. His aid had already served her a matching meal and disappeared after George thanked her.