Whispers on the Potomac_Room 312

by Mia Villano

  Hooking up with some college girl was not on my mind, yet from the second I was introduced to her, there was something between us. It’s an unspoken bond, and so much more than I’d ever felt with anyone. I lost myself in her and wanted her more than anything.

  How we kept our relationship a secret was nothing short of a full-time job. Our time together was spent out of town or meeting at secret locations, me sneaking into her condo late at night, and stolen moments when she worked alone with me.

  Our favorite place to meet was along the Potomac River. I’d meet her on rainy days when the park was less crowded. For hours, we’d sit on a park bench talking, laughing, and getting to know each other. Time stood still on the Potomac, watching the rainfall on the river and enjoying each other’s company.

  When the rain soaked us, we’d get a room in the Bolger Hotel, order room service, and take a hot bath. Staying awake all night talking, having sex, and watching corny Lifetime movies were some of the best times of my life. Room 312 was our hideaway and where we made love for the first time. Our love for each other was professed in that room too many times to count. We listened to each other’s dreams in room 312. She meant so much more to me than sex. Daria was the love of my life and the one who stole my heart.

  My mom slapping me on the arm snaps me out of my thoughts.

  “Well, here I thought she was a stripper or something.” My mom rolls her eyes.

  “She’s a ballet dancer, Mother, not a stripper. There’s a big difference. She is also a psychiatrist now.” Daria had practiced ballet since she was five years old. I’d been to a couple of her performances, sneaking in the back unnoticed. She’s graceful, strong, athletic, and passionate, and watching her dance is a memorable experience.

  Keeping my eyes glued to her from a distance, I speak to a group of senators. I’m forcing myself to stay focused and talk about what my goals are, and what I’m hoping to achieve if elected. Occasionally, letting my eyes browse the room, she catches me staring a couple of times and smiles. Maybe it’s just me, but I find she’s looking at me the way she did when we would be at the same party. Knowing we couldn’t be too friendly in public, her eyes would tell me I’m hers once we were alone. She has that same look tonight.

  My mother pulls me to her. “Come on. I have someone you need to meet. He can do wonders for you, like he did your father when he ran for the Senate.” Holding my arm, we head toward a group of older men laughing and smoking cigars. It’s showtime. I somehow pushed her to the back of my mind to work for the backing of my Party.

  Tonight, I’m introduced to the wealthiest, most powerful, people in the United States. People who have more money than they know what to do with, and handing their money over to me for a few promises is easier than imagined. I air kiss, cheek kiss, and ass kiss the entire night. A few agreements are made with a handshake, and a lobbyist tries to bribe me to influence my agenda, stating it will ensure that my interest will be protected.

  Throughout the night, my attempt to get a moment with Daria is impossible. By the time there’s a free moment, she’s gone. Again.

  A few nights later, Garrison tells me she went back to Paris. As if I’m in a dream - or a nightmare - I rack my brain, over and over, trying to figure out how she walked into my life again, and with my brother, but I don’t ask why. Convincing myself to let it go and to forget our love ever happened, is impossible. Once I saw her again, I know I won’t be the same.

  3

  Daria

  Walking into that party takes everything I can muster. Oh, these political functions are the worst. As an intern, one of my jobs was to put these parties together, and they never get easier. Whoever planned this one did an amazing job. This is beyond anything I’ve ever accomplished. The house is completely transformed into the White House, and it looks incredible.

  Why did I come here? When Garrison invited me, I was hesitant. However, seeing my family, and being back in the States for a while, sounded like a wonderful idea at the time. Seeing Sebastian was an added bonus. He’s wrecked my thoughts now for six years, and I thought it would be easy to be around him. I’m not ready, and I’m sure the last person Sebastian wants to see tonight is me.

  I see Sebastian standing across the lawn and he notices me right away. Our eyes meet and my head feels dizzy. The sight of him triggers a fire inside me.

  I haven’t told Garrison about the connection between me and Sebastian. No one knows, other than the two of us, and my best friend in Paris who I confided in. The only thing Garrison knows is he was once my boss.

  At the time, I didn’t know what else to do other than run away from him. I was a young college student and he was a powerful congressional representative, just elected to the position, with his future set to run for a higher office. It would have been a disaster if he knew the real reason why I left. His whole life would have been turned upside down, or possibly ruined. My love for him was too strong to let that happen, so I did what I thought was best for both of us, and I ran.

  As soon as I walk into the lavish event, I’m having second thoughts. My body is overly aware of him immediately. Seeing him is all that I need, even if it’s just one more time; to have closure and move on. If nothing else, I want to congratulate him for getting as far as he did. However, now that I am around him, there is no way I can just move on.

  Keeping my eyes cast down, I’m almost terrified to meet his gaze again. Breathing is a struggle. It’s really him and the pain of being in his presence barrels into me like a punch to the gut. I try to focus, looking for his girlfriend. She’s even more beautiful than the pictures I saw on the news and internet. To me, she’s a perfect match for Sebastian. She’s his age, in politics, and she’s confident and classy. All the things I’m not.

  The sight of him is too much, and running out of the room crosses my mind.

  This pink dress is totally wrong for the night. Black would have been much better. He always loved me in black. My thoughts are racing all over the place. Hell, what does any of this matter? I’m old news and long-forgotten. Garrison practically drags me up to him. “Sebastian, remember Daria Stewart?”

  Up close, Sebastian looks the same. A little grayer, but still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Christ, I remember being in his arms and staring at his face as he fell asleep. Our gazes lock, his eyes are still warm and loving, yet something is different. He looks melancholy, almost troubled.

  Trying to steady myself, my voice comes out shaky.

  “Congressman Reed, it’s been a long time.” My outspoken demeanor takes a backseat when I’m in his presence, and I become shy and withdrawn. Is it appropriate to shake his hand? Touching him would be too awkward. Clutching my handbag, I anticipate he will yell at me, or turn around and not speak. Instead, he stares and doesn’t look away. It’s not a mean glare, more of the gaze of someone in shock.

  “Hello, Daria. What a surprise.”

  He remembers me.

  The impact of his husky voice and presence is as solid as the first day we met. The day of our introduction is forever ingrained in my mind.

  While attending Georgetown, I was eager to see if politics was the career path for me. Like my parents, it was assumed I would enter politics in some form, or maybe become a lawyer. Before deciding if that was the career I wanted, they pulled a few strings for me. I was chosen for an internship with Sebastian Reed, a lawyer who was running for Congress. Assuming he was another old, overweight, balding man, my heart nearly stopped when he walked out of his office and introduced himself to us. He was sex poured into a perfectly tailored suit. Sebastian Reed was tall, muscular, and tanned. He had a full head of wavy black hair, gelled back to perfection. And, if that wasn’t enough, as I looked up at his face, his eyes stole my breath away. They were emerald green with flecks of brown, reminding me of a kaleidoscope. His eyes were enthralling and intimidating, and I didn’t want to look away. He held out his hand, exposing a manicure and a very expensive watch.

  “Hello, Daria.
It’s nice to have you on my team.” Holy hell. The sound of his voice was polished and raspy. Immediately - and inappropriately - I thought of sex. Wild, up against the wall, ball-slapping sex, with all my inhibitions gone.

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. I’m honored to be chosen.” Christ, I sounded like a teenager. My heartbeat skipped when I caught a whiff of his cologne. He smelled like a combination of leather, pine, and sin; it matched him perfectly and made me wet. The moment our hands touched, I knew my life wouldn’t be the same. My body shivered inside when he spoke, and from that day on, whenever we were in the same room, a scorching force of electricity cocooned the two of us.

  He asks me how I’ve been. Stretching the truth, I tell him good. In an odd way, it scares me to think how much he’s still a part of my life. After six years of convincing myself I would never see him again, here he is, standing right in front of me. The cruelty of my actions and words the day I left are like daggers to my heart. Walking away from him, and all the love we shared between us, nearly broke me. He doesn’t know why and maybe he doesn’t really care now. Our relationship is history yet still raw inside me.

  Garrison becomes distracted and is talking to people as Sebastian and I stand in silence. The sight of him makes me want to jump into his arms, bury my face in his neck, and have him carry me out of here.

  I wait for him to speak, but he just stares at me. He asks how Garrison and I met in such a huge place as Paris. How to explain it is a mystery, so I hesitate. Garrison’s interest is piqued again at his question, so I let him do the talking. Garrison and I began hanging out and before long, we became friends. Nothing more and we both made that clear the first week. I wasn’t his type and he wasn’t Sebastian in any way, other than his looks.

  People approach, and congratulate him on his decision to run for president. Sebastian eyes me as if he wants to tell me something. Christ, he looks better than ever. Maybe it’s the tuxedo or the salt and pepper hair, or the new little lines around his eyes. Maybe it’s the arrogance and power he portrays in public. It’s everything about him, and I’m feeling it in the dampness between my thighs. I swallow, close my eyes a second, and remember his hands sliding across my breasts and stroking between my legs. The attraction to him is indescribable. Opening my eyes, I scan the room, trying not to be besieged with sensual images of him. I see Annalise looking in our direction. I look back to Sebastian as he addresses me.

  “It’s nice seeing you again, Daria. Maybe we can catch up later, however right now I need to mix it up with the big wigs.”

  I can’t come up with any words to say, so I silently nod. My earlier lunch is churning in my stomach and I need to get a breath of fresh air, or go home. Thankfully, my phone ringing gives me an excuse to walk off. Taking it out of my clutch, I notice it’s my best friend, Lilly. We met at work in Paris. She’s a psychologist from England, at the same hospital I work at, and we struck up a friendship right away. She’s the only other person who knows about Sebastian, and I was supposed to call her the minute I arrived.

  “Well, how’s it going?” she asks seriously.

  I look back up to see Sebastian walk up to his girlfriend. Her body is perfection and I’m envious of her curves and dark features. When she kisses Sebastian, I can’t bear to look. Seeing him with her rips at my soul. They’re called the power couple and she’s known as the “Future First Lady.”

  “I can’t do this, Lilly. This is so stupid to be here. You should have talked me out of it.” I’m whispering so no one hears me.

  “Talk you out of it. I tried. You wouldn’t listen. Is he still hot?” The heat rises in my cheeks when I gaze at him; he’s looking back at me and winks. Dear God, don’t let my legs give out.

  “You have no idea how hot he is. Oh my God, Lilly. I forgot how gorgeous he is in person.”

  She giggles, making me laugh like she always does. “Take a picture of him and send it to me right now.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “I’m totally crazy, and so are you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay, for the most part. I don’t know, he’s acting strange. He keeps staring at me.”

  “That’s because he still wants you. Listen, call me later and tell me everything. I mean it; don’t you forget.”

  “I won’t forget. Love you.”

  “Love you, babes.” I end the call with a smile and accept another champagne offered to me by a waiter.

  Every time my eyes find Sebastian’s I catch him staring at me and all I can do is smile in return. This is a huge night for him, he should be focusing on the politicians and DC elite here supporting him. I stand by the exit for a while, watching for the perfect time to slip out. Deciding it’s now, I walk over to Garrison, who’s talking to some girl, and let him know I’m leaving.

  “Hey, I’m going to get a car and go.”

  “I’ll get the Uber and go with you,” he reluctantly says. Is he kidding? That’s the last thing I want.

  “No, I’m fine. You stay and enjoy yourself. The champagne is getting to me.”

  “Alright. Be careful.” He’s trying to score, so I know he’s fine with me leaving. Before the Uber arrives, I run into one of the other interns who worked with Sebastian at the same time I did. I shore up my composure and smile. Hearing my name, I point to my car that thankfully pulls up and I hurriedly slide in. I didn’t want to be rude, but I also didn’t want to talk to anyone either. The idea of calling Lilly crosses my mind, except I’m too exhausted to talk. I send her a quick text, telling her I’ll call her in the morning.

  My parents retired and moved out of the city, but kept the condo for me when I come back from Paris. It’s rather nice to have this at my convenience. Riding back to the condo, my head tells me it’s ridiculous of me to be back in town. However, my heart tells me something different. The words of my mother bellow in my head: “Always follow your head and forget what your heart wants. Your heart’s an idiot and will ruin you every time.” How right she is. It was too soon to look at him, and remember what we lost, even after six years. The torment of being near Sebastian was more than I could stomach for one night. He’s moved on and who can blame him. He’s running for the highest power in the world and doesn’t need a young, unsophisticated woman by his side. Inwardly, my heart is breaking all over again. I learned over the years not to let anyone see my pain. There was too much misery in my life and I taught myself to keep my torment hidden.

  Once the driver drops me off, I rush into my condo and burst into tears. The tears of pure misery flow for hours as I grieve for the man never to be mine again. What possessed me to go to his fundraiser? I need to get back to Paris as soon as possible. At least there, the chance of running into him is slim to none. I call the airlines and purchase a ticket for the next day. Putting four thousand miles and an ocean between us will keep my thoughts away from him, right? However, if I didn't want to think about him, why did I insist on coming? I’m clearly not over him and I knew that deep inside. As I lay there, thinking of him, sleep overtakes me. My dreams are fitful and filled with memories of our past.

  4

  Sebastian - One year later

  The elation of my reunion with Daria was short-lived. Not seeing her since the night of my fundraiser, over a year ago, has left me ill-tempered, exasperated, and fed up. Though I try like hell to forget that night, the sight of her is ever-present in my mind and shredding my heart. The longing to talk to her still gnaws at my very existence, though I push it in the back of my mind to concentrate on the campaign. Being in her presence a year ago launches a craving I can’t satisfy with any other woman, not even Annalise. Nevertheless, I throw myself into the campaign with a furious tenacity, not letting thoughts of Daria affect the election, which is now my life.

  Keeping my head in the game, I power through my day with no problem. Too busy to do otherwise, I barely have enough time to breathe, let alone mull over thoughts of my past. There were times throughout the year when images of Daria tormented me. Rallies and speech
es had my eyes scanning the crowd for her blazing red hair. Now, riding in my SUV to my headquarters, I look at the pedestrians, hoping one of them will be her. I can pick her legs out of anyone in a crowd. Where is she? What is she doing? Who is she with? The thought of her with someone else or my brother has always irritated me and somehow, I’d force myself to forget, masking my pain with Annalise or working myself sick. Nevertheless, now that I’ve crossed paths with Daria once more, letting her go again is unimaginable.

  I have a snapshot of her caught by the photographer, from the night of my fundraiser. Unguarded, laughing with a glass of champagne in her hand, I find myself staring a little too long at her captivating face and alluring smile. Becoming frayed around the edges, the picture goes everywhere with me. Nights when I’m alone, my eyes slide over every feature of her incredibleness, lost in the fact she was once mine. If I try hard enough, my senses can still imagine how she tasted, how her body felt naked pressed up against me, the way my name sounded when she came, and the warm scent of her neck when I’d bury my face in it.

  Keeping our love hidden is one of the biggest regrets of my life. If I had to do it over again, I would have told everyone how much she means to me. I don’t know how to explain what she does to me, how much she affects me, and how truly I love her. Willing to give up everything if given another chance, I don’t see myself loving anyone the way I love her.

  Since Annalise is still in my life, I struggle not to make my misery evident around her. We don’t see much of each other; however, she makes it a priority to fly out to help get my campaign up and running. Annalise is still filling a void, though, and I feel like a bastard when we’re together. The times I picture Daria riding my cock or blowing me in the back of a limo instead of Annalise, is an issue I don’t know how to address other than by avoiding her. She must sense that things aren’t the same between us and something has changed in me.