by Silver James
The conversation paused as their waiter appeared and delivered their plates. The men all dug into their steaks and baked potatoes with gusto. Georgie was a bit daintier as she cut and chewed. The excellent medium-rare Angus beef almost melting in her mouth wasn’t the only thing she chewed over.
Clay was still seeing Giselle Richards, the Tony award–winning actress from Oklahoma. That discovery shouldn’t have surprised her. Except Clay seldom dated anyone for longer than a few months. Giselle had been on his horizon for almost nine. Georgie kept her eyes on her plate and worked to keep all expression off her face. Clay dated. This was a fact of life. She had absolutely no claim on him outside the office. Period. Her life was simpler that way. And her heart infinitely safer.
The men continued talking as the food disappeared from their plates.
Boone nudged her foot under the table. “Yo, Georgie, you’re way too quiet.”
She frowned and huffed. “Too quiet? With you three, who can get a word in edgewise?”
All three men chuckled and Hunt jostled Boone. “Ha. She’s got your number, little bro.”
“My number?” Boone pointed to his chest. “One.” He pointed at Hunt then Clay. “Two. Three. She said, and I quote, ‘With you three.’ I think she knows us all extremely well.”
Georgie glanced at her wristwatch. “Because I do, I’m going to skedaddle before this conversation deteriorates any further.”
She stared at Boone as a hint to slide out of the booth so she could exit. He didn’t move. She cleared her throat and Boone pointedly ignored her. Then his leg brushed across her shins. Clay jerked and stared at her. Her eyes wide, she turned her head to narrow them at Boone. “You will pay for that. Now move.” She shoved at his shoulder.
Hunt slid out. “I’ll take my little brother’s hint. You aren’t walking to the Metro. We’ll drive you home.”
“Good idea, bro.”
A few minutes later, the tab paid, coats claimed and the valet dispatched, the four of them waited just inside the door. When the SUV pulled up, they headed out. Feeling ornery, Georgie headed around the front of the vehicle. “Shotgun!”
She caught all three men flat-footed and was ensconced in the front seat before they reacted. Hunt laughed as he climbed in behind the wheel, flashing smug looks at the other men. Georgie felt inordinately proud of herself even as she faced the thought of a confrontation with Boone. He’d been nudging Clay and her together. A lot. He needed to stop his romantic machinations immediately because...well...because!
When Hunt pulled up in front of her apartment building, Clay was out of the backseat and at her door before she could get it open. She was about to argue but he had her arm, tugging her onto the sidewalk.
“I’ll walk you inside.”
Six
Clay cupped Georgie’s elbow with one hand while his other automatically went to the small of her back. The sidewalk was slippery. That was his excuse. She turned at the door to say good-night and he suddenly realized he didn’t want her to go.
Jumping in before she could dismiss him, he said, “I’ll walk you up to your apartment.”
“Senator—”
“Clay.”
Her lips parted slightly and he wondered if that was an invitation. Nope, he shouldn’t go there. Just...
“Really, Senator, I’m fine. This is a secure building and you really don’t want to hike up three flights.”
And she put him right back in his place. Georgie was right, of course. He was taking off in a few days to spend the holidays with Giselle. His ironclad policy was no office shenanigans. This sudden interest in the woman who’d been under his nose for years was just...an infatuation. Or something. He curled his fingers into his palms to keep from cupping her face.
“Then I’ll say good night, Georgie. See you in the office tomorrow morning.”
Some emotion he couldn’t quite define flickered across her expression, gone before he could capture it. He stepped back so he wouldn’t do something stupid. Like kiss her while standing there on the stoop with Boone and Hunt watching from the SUV.
The lock snicked and she pushed the door open. “Good night...Senator.” Georgie slipped through the opening before he could change his mind and she shut the door behind her, locking him out. He stood in the cold, his breath fogging the glass until she turned into the stairwell and disappeared from his sight. He stepped out on the sidewalk, head craned back, waiting. A few minutes later lights illuminated a set of windows on the third floor and Georgie’s shadow passed across them.
The back window of the SUV slithered down and Boone leaned out. “Yo, Clay, get in the car. It’s freezing.”
With a reluctance he didn’t quite understand, Clay settled into the front passenger seat. Silence reigned for about thirty seconds and then his cousins erupted in laughter.
“Idiots,” he muttered under his breath.
“Who, us?” Boone reached between the seats to slug his shoulder. “Clay, you need to ask that girl out.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She works for me, Boone.”
“No, technically she works for me.”
“And you work for me. Just...forget it. Bad idea. You’re the one who pointed this out in Arizona. Besides, she doesn’t—” He bit off the rest of the sentence.
“She doesn’t what? Like you? Jeez, Clay. You are so freaking dense sometimes. That girl has crushed on you from the moment she walked in the door. And I only asked if you knew what you were doing in Scottsdale.”
Hunt glanced over and rolled his eyes. “Huh. Are we like in junior high now?”
“Shut up, Hunt. And you, too, Boone.” Clay held up his hand, cutting off their jibes. “In fact, I think I’ll fly up to New York tomorrow. Hunt, make sure the plane is available and Boone, if you’ll make arrangements at the Waldorf, I’d appreciate it.”
Hunt looked as if he was going to say something else, but closed his mouth and grimaced before saying, “I’ll instruct Cash to have a security team meet you.”
“Good. I’ll leave straight from home in the morning. You two can take care of the office until the winter recess.”
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of Clay’s Georgetown townhouse. The gray-painted brick building was almost obscured by the snow drifting down. The red brick sidewalk was completely covered. DC would be shut down by morning.
“Crap. Boone, email the staff and tell them to stay home tomorrow. There’s no way the streets will be plowed. And that means I’ll delay the trip to New York by a day.”
“You realize you’re running away, right?”
Hunt chimed in with chicken noises.
“Just do what I ordered.” Clay climbed out and stomped through the snow to the wrought-iron gate protecting his small yard and entrance door. The black vehicle idled at the curb while he fought the accumulated snow to get the gate open and closed. The motion detector installed with his security system lit up the interior as he approached the door, keyed in the code and entered.
He decided to ignore the juvenile antics of his cousins. This was a matter of discretion being the better part of valor. Yes, he was tempted by Georgie but she was an employee. She was also the best speechwriter on the Hill and he was not going to jeopardize that relationship to pursue one of a more intimate nature.
* * *
Georgie opened her door, shoved a large, steaming mug into the hands of the woman standing there and ushered her inside. The trip up from the second floor hadn’t taken her best friend long.
“Why are adult snow days not near as much fun as when we were kids and got to stay home from school?” Jen groused as she shuffled in on fuzzy house shoe–clad feet. She let loose with a huge yawn before sipping the hot chocolate in her mug. “Ooh. You put cinnamon in it.”
>
“Of course I did. Do you want breakfast?”
“What do you have?”
Wandering into her small kitchen, Georgie checked the fridge and the cabinets. “Uhm...two boiled eggs. Instant oatmeal. And coffee.”
“Put marshmallows in my next hot chocolate and we’ll call it brunch.” Jen settled on Georgie’s couch, propped her feet on the coffee table and yawned again. “So talk to me.”
Georgie topped off her coffee and curled up on the opposite end of the overstuffed couch, doing her best to seem as though she was okay. “About what?”
“Why you look so bummed out. Duh.”
“I’m not bummed.”
“Oh? Really? Coulda fooled me. What’s up with the Oklahoma Stud?”
Blushing furiously, Georgie kicked at Jen’s thigh. “Don’t call him that.”
“Then tell me what’s going on between you two.”
“Nothing.” She barely avoided a sigh. “The office went to dinner last night and he walked me to the door.”
“Did he kiss you?”
“Jen! Stop it! No. He did not. We don’t have a...a relationship like that.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Georgie stuck her fingers in her ears and sang, “La-la-la-la-la. Not listening to you.”
“You know you want him, girl.”
“He’s my boss. And...” She pushed her glasses back to the bridge of her nose. “He’s spending Christmas in New York. With Giselle Richards. And last night he told me he’d see me tomorrow...meaning today. Except he decided to leave early for New York and was going straight to the airport except...snow day.”
Jen’s face smoothed out and sympathy filled her gaze. “Well...that sucks.”
“Yeah.”
“Are they like...a thing?”
“He’s been seeing her since...Valentine’s Day.”
“Wait. Their first date was Valentine’s Day? Who does that?”
“It wasn’t a date. Exactly. She was his escort for some deal at the Western Heritage Center in Oklahoma City. They went to the same high school or something.”
“Pffft. She’s got nothin’ on you, Georgie.”
“Says my best friend who is loyal to a fault. But have you seen her? She’s a former Miss America and she won the Tony two years ago and she’s gorgeous and...and...” Georgie couldn’t swallow her sigh this time. “You know he’s putting together an exploratory committee, right?” At Jen’s nod, she continued. “Giselle is the type of woman he needs on his arm when he runs for president. She knows what to say to people. Looks amazing. Doesn’t trip and fall over her own feet. Or wear glasses.”
“I call BS.”
“Why? She’s beautiful and talented and...everything I’m not.”
“And she’s a total airhead. Have you ever heard her interviewed? I mean, seriously. I don’t know what Senator Barron sees in her.”
Georgie stared at Jen, all but gaping. “You are so not a guy. She walks by and their tongues hang out.”
“Well, you’re smart and funny and...and sweet and...and...”
“And nothing. I invited you over to cheer me up.”
“It’s too early in the morning. And there’s no ice cream.”
“I know. I’m a lousy hostess, which just proves my point.” Georgie curled her upper lip and rolled her eyes, which made Jen laugh, as she’d intended. “At least Christmas is almost here. I’ll go home. Stuff myself on Dad’s turkey and dressing and drown my sorrows in giblet gravy.”
“That’s the spirit!”
* * *
Clay kicked back in the deep leather chair, his feet propped up on the matching ottoman. He negligently held a lead crystal glass with two fingers of scotch in one hand. Boone had decided to stay at the ranch with him while everyone else headed to downtown Oklahoma City to ring in the New Year.
“We didn’t expect you for the holidays, cuz.”
“Yeah. Staying in New York wasn’t really an option.”
“You give Giselle the boot?”
“Nope.”
“She kicked you out?” Boone perked up and leaned forward. “This’ll be good.”
“Yeah, well.” Clay lifted one shoulder in a forcibly nonchalant shrug before sipping the aged whiskey in his glass. “Not smart to forget a woman’s name in the middle of things.”
“You forgot Giselle’s name? Oh, dude. You are a dog. That’s what pet names are for, right?”
“Worse than that, Boone.”
The other man stared at him, eyes crinkling and his mouth curling into a smirk as he figured it out. “Oh, hell, ol’ son. Please don’t tell me you called her by another woman’s name...”
Clay did his best to maintain a poker face, but knew he’d failed the moment Boone burst out laughing. “It’s not funny.”
“Is, too.”
“Is not.”
Boone controlled his laughter but still smirked. “Whose name?” Blinking several times, the full impact hit him. “Oh, crap. Georgie.”
Clay figured he looked as miserable as he felt. “How screwed up am I, Boone?”
“I don’t think you’re screwed up at all, man. Georgie is a gem. Granted, she’s not a supermodel, but she’s got that whole sexy librarian thing, plus no one is smarter and her zingers are worth the price of admission. I mean, seriously. Why are you just now seeing what the rest of us saw from the git-go?”
“I’m a slow learner. However, I am seeing it now so what the hell do I do about it?”
“Simple. Ask her out.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? I mean, seriously, cuz, what’s the problem?”
“I’d have to fire her. Which sucks because she’s the best communications director on the Hill. And there’s no guarantee we’d last longer than a fling. If she’d even go for it. Doesn’t sound like a win-win for anybody.”
“I don’t follow, Clay. Why would you have to fire her? And I’m not even going into fling territory.”
Draining his drink, Clay laid his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. “The old man, Boone. Every bit of fluff he brought into the house came from his office. The side pieces, the step-monsters he dragged in—each one younger than the previous. Well, except for Helen. She wanted to be a mom. The rest? Gold diggers, every last one.”
He rubbed his fingers over his forehead, but the headache brewing behind his eyes didn’t go away. “I swore I would never be him.”
“So you date supermodels and actresses and pretty women who are dumber than stumps because you don’t want to follow in his footsteps? I have four names for you, starting with Tammy.”
Clay groaned. “Lord, that cost us a pretty penny to get rid of her, and she took the foreman with her. Thank goodness Chance made sure she signed the prenup. Besides, I wasn’t referring to the quality of the women I date but where I meet them. I refuse to have an office romance.”
“Then fire Georgie.”
Resisting the urge to throw the now-empty glass at his cousin, Clay heaved out of the chair and went to the bar to pour another, stiffer drink. “I don’t want to lose her, Boone.” He tossed back the drink, barely resisting the urge to slam the glass down on the marble bar top. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I do. Just trust me on this.”
Seven
Georgie blinked rapidly, the seldom-worn contacts irritating her eyes. She longed to take them out and stick her glasses back on. Resisting, she used drops while managing not to smear her makeup. She had to be crazy. When Boone had called with a last-minute request, she thought, why not? That was before she’d dressed up. Now she stood there in panic mode.
Returning to the senate offices after the holiday break had been...interesting. Boone and Hunt intimated th
at Clay had cut his New York trip short and spent the holidays at the family ranch north of Oklahoma City. She was curious enough to wonder if Clay had broken up with Giselle and she tried very hard to quell any internal squee moments that thought created. He was so far out of Georgie’s league that...
The notes of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” drifted in from her bedroom. She staggered on her high heels, found the impossibly small and expensive evening bag Jen had loaned her and snagged her cell phone.
“Do not have time, Jen. Go away.”
“Breathe, Georgie. Things will be fine.” Her best friend unleashed a sultry chuckle. “In fact, I bet he takes you back to his place for a nightcap.”
“Oh, sure. Right. The man is handsome enough to be a movie star, he’s a gazillionaire and he always dates the most beautiful socialites and supermodels in the world. I, on the other hand, am me. I am so totally average that the political pollsters have my type on speed dial. Men like Senator Barron do not make passes at girls who wear glasses and work in their office. One, it is a huge breach of ethics and two...have you looked at me, Jen? Yes, you’re my best friend in the whole world and you love me, but let’s be real. I won’t ever win a beauty contest.”
The buzzer sounded, alerting her that someone was at the outer door to her building, and she cut off Jen’s reply. “Gotta go.”
Time was up. Smoothing the formal gown, she grabbed a warm wrap and the beaded bag.
Using the same care as a tightrope walker, she managed both the apartment building’s stairs and entryway without tripping on the high heels she normally avoided wearing. Her feet would kill her before the night was over but such was the price of fashion.
Boone waited beside the limo and his eyes lit up when she emerged from the door. “Dang, sugar. You clean up real nice.”
His exaggerated accent made her laugh and relax. Boone always managed to walk the fine line between boss and friend. He kept up a running commentary on the way to the White House, but his words washed over her like a gentle waterfall. Since her first political job, she’d been on staff in one capacity or another. From campaign volunteer all the way up the ranks to communications director, she’d been Boone’s protégé in all things political. She’d attended hometown rallies and national conventions. But this was her first state dinner. And she was slightly terrified. No. She was totally terrified.
