The Bovine Connection

by Kimberly Thomas

  “Well, I’m sure you will not be disappointed sir… Our specials today are duck burger with thyme aioli and Boursin cheese. I would personally recommend the herb and Dijon roasted chicken with lemon chicken stock reduction, garlic spinach and potato puree. And last… but not least, if you are in the mood for fish, we have a delicious pan-roasted lemon sole with champagne citrus puree and roasted fingerling potatoes… my favorite.”

  As soon as they made their decision, Michael looked at Angelica with a sneaky smile. “Should we have a glass of wine?”

  Angelica grinned, thinking about her ambush on Chairman John Kaye. “With the day I have ahead of me… I probably should. Yes, I’ll have your house Pinot Grigio.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Michael said, as he handed the server the menu.

  “So you have a place in New York? That’s certainly more convenient to D.C. than Montana,” Angelica stated, her mouth pressed tight.

  “Yes, you should come to New York.” Michael said over the muffled conversations in the background.

  “Yes, maybe I should. Of course it will depend on the story as to when.” Angelica’s face softened as she raised her brow.

  “When is the deadline?” Michael asked, half-jokingly.

  “Oh, there’s no deadline for this story… it’s quite unique,” Angelica said, as the server sat down the thin wine glasses of Pinot Grigio.

  Michael stared at Angelica and thought how exquisitely beautiful she looked in spite of everything she had been through.

  “What? You have that look again,” she laughed nervously.

  “You take my breath away, Angelica.” His eyes were intense. Angelica glanced down shyly.

  “Breathe Angelica,” Michael said playfully. Angelica looked up and smiled sincerely. He had a way of making her feel pouty.

  “Last night before dinner I mentioned that people don’t want to know the truth,” Michael set his glass down. “Well, at dinner you made a valid argument.” He looked her straight in the eyes.

  “Yes, however, some of that was the alcohol talking. I tend to ramble after a few glasses.” Angelica grinned.

  “Well, I think people should voice their opinion - even if that opinion differs from everyone else’s.” Michael lifted his glass and took a sip of his wine.

  “Yes, I agree.” She thought for a moment. “I will admit however that my opinion has gotten me into a bit of trouble at a few dinner parties.”

  “You’re a paradox!” Michael mused, while taking a bite of his Sole. “I understand how stubborn and closed-minded people can be, but it’s just ignorance and fear. Don’t let them take your spark and your desire to find out the truth -- no matter how unpalatable it might be for this insecure world we live in.”

  Angelica lowered her chin as her eyes rose to his. “I’d felt lost for a long time, you know, wondering why my father left. Once I got to D.C., I shed all that baggage… Know what I mean? I focused on college and my career.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Michael whispered, his eyes sincere.

  “Now I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore – it feels as if I’m lost again… I dread the late hours of night… I don’t know where that came from, sorry… too deep.” Angelica rolled her eyes and glanced away, embarrassed. Michael frowned sympathetically.

  Angelica took a breath and leaned back.

  Michael glanced down and then back up to meet Angelica’s eyes. “So why did you become a journalist?”

  Angelica thought for a moment. “Investigative journalism is like surfing. You rush in and catch the wave, and while riding it… you let go of your inhibitions to experience the excitement… and then you glide into the shallow waters. That is, if you’re lucky and get ahead of the wave. Then you rise up from the sand as the tide attempts to pull you back. You then sit patiently on the shore, and look for another wave to ride.” Angelica laughed. “One of my many dumb analogies. I guess the simple answer is – It’s exciting, never boring.” She gleamed.

  Angelica noted Michael’s smile was different, his eyes indicated his desire for her. He looked as if he wanted to ravish her, and she felt that if no one were around, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

  Michael took the black napkin from his lap and dabbed at the corners of his month. “So the implant – how are you feeling about that? That has to be one of the main reasons you have been questioning whether to continue with the story. I don’t know but if it were me, I’d seriously consider walking away after removing a thing like that from my arm.” Michael appeared worried. His forehead crinkled.

  Angelica knew he was not so subtly trying to convince her to give the story up. “The implant only validates why I have to continue,” she said confidently.

  Michael shook his head as Angelica moved forward and raised her elbows up to the table, while cupping her hands under her chin. “I’ve been contemplating how I am going to write this story. First, the cattle mutilations, and then some type of hybridization program… and now different groups of ETs and implant devices… the KGB and ‘The Tomb of the Visitor’… a whole group of crazies disappearing off a tour bus in the desert… and let’s not forget there’s some billionaire lunatic running around,… seriously… what the hell? Where does one even begin?” With a look of bewilderment, Angelica laughed and rubbed her fingers across her eyebrows before lowering her hands feeling a rush of anxiety.

  “Do you want my observation?” Michael said dryly, rubbing his chin.

  “Yes,” Angelica raised her eyebrows in surprise as if he were going to bring it all together, all at once.

  “You shouldn’t do the story… It’s affecting you, maybe in an unhealthy way,” Michael’s lips closed into a flat line. He raised his eyes and observed her reaction.

  Angelica felt disappointed. Her shoulders dropped. That was not what she wanted to hear. Angelica gave up and changed the subject. “So, what type of business do you have in New York?”

  “I thought I had told you. I’m a private equity investor.”

  “Oh! I thought you were a photographer, for some reason. I thought that was why you traveled.” Angelica tilted her head. “You’re not the billionaire I am looking for, are you?” she asked jokingly, appearing slightly startled.

  Michael responded quickly, through a laugh, “Hell no, no billionaire… wish I were one! Photography is a hobby,” he replied.

  “Oh, I assumed with all the photos,” Angelica sensed the conversation had taken an awkward turn. “I jumped to that conclusion and underestimated you. Not that photography isn’t a great career. I should have asked. Well, that explains your house…” Angelica felt she was stumbling over her words, conscious of how rude and materialistic her comment must have sounded. “It’s just so lovely and…”

  “Yes, thank you,” Michael said. “I’ve been quite fortunate in my career - to have made connections with some significant intellectual capital over the years. Okay, enough about business, let’s make the most of the time we have together,” Michael said as he grinned.

  Angelica noticed his perfect white teeth and sexy smile, her favorite features of his. She shifted anxiously in her seat as she took a bite. She continued to watch his mouth as he took a sip of his wine. He was amazing… the perfect man, at least, in her eyes. There would never be a loss of desire for him. The sex was amazing… and great conversation, she thought. But she questioned how she had become so close to him while never asking what he did for a living. She wondered if she was losing her head too quickly with Michael. As she stared blankly at her wine glass, Michael noticed her worried expression, he sensed she was starting to pull back and interrupted her thought. “I know this must be difficult for you… It is for me, as well. We live very different lives. I have been known to take things for granted in the past; however, not this time.”

  Angelica still appeared concerned so Michael moved his arms across the table and took Angelica’s hand. He rubbed softly at the creases in her wrist. “We just have to be careful not to ruin this amazing connection.”
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br />   Angelica leaned back hard in the chair and took her napkin from her lap to dab her lip. “What did he mean by that?” she wondered, inwardly irritated.

  “Just enjoy the moments as they come. You know what I mean.” he sat back confidently. Angelica wasn’t sure what he meant, but she nodded anyway.

  Michael continued softly… “Journalists are skeptical by nature, which is smart… While no one should just dive in head first, there are a lot of different variables here. If we open our hearts and move forward as if this is a very special, deep connection… that is evolving, we’ll stay in a healthy place. I see a future with us, Angelica.” Michael’s eyes were soft and sincere.

  “Yes, I agree,” Angelica released the breath she was holding. She understood what Michael was trying to say, and she was getting a strong feeling that she had finally found her perfect man. He was handsome, intelligent, driven, and probably just a little bit crazy, she concluded.

  “I’m going to miss you, Michael Anderson,” she said, straight-faced, with deep soulful eyes.

  “I’m going to miss you, too, Angelica Bradley,” he said in a deep breath.

  Angelica was relaxed after finishing her Pinot Grigio and taking the last bite of her lunch. Their presence together at the familiar bistro was utterly romantic, a sensation she had been without for far too long. There was no lack of passion between them, and a continual flow of deep conversation, but she knew from experience that too much passion could also cause big problems.

  Outside La Bistro, Angelica stood with Michael at the valet stand while he waited for the cab to take him to the airport. Michael put his hand on the back of Angelica’s neck and pulled her in closer to him. She leaned in meekly and absorbed the intense desire exchanged between them as he softly kissed her forehead.

  “I feel like the luckiest man in the world right at this moment.” Michael grinned and pressed his palm firmly around the back of her neck.

  “Well, you are,” Angelica whispered.

  Michael laughed and squeezed her tightly. “Just stay safe, baby,” he whispered as the cab pulled up to the curb.

  The valet walked over and opened the passenger door, “Your cab, sir,” Michael tossed his duffle bag in first, then stepped in, and before closing the door said, “How could we ever get bored? Bistro’s, bovine blood, billionaires… and the next time we meet… breakfast in bed. Talk to you soon, beautiful.”

  Angelica raised her hand and nodded before he shut the door. She was watching his cab drive off when her cell phone rang. Angelica saw Gail’s name on the caller ID. “Hey Gail?” Angelica was still watching Michael’s cab round the corner.

  “You owe me big time, girlfriend. I got some information for you that is going to rock your world! I got a name for you! The billionaire’s name is Francis Giano. Apparently, the government is cutting back on space exploration… budget cuts… NASA’s shutting down space programs right and left. Strange, huh?”

  “Yes, that is odd, considering the fact that the Ways and Means Committee would have a significant hand in these cutbacks,” Angelica interjected, listening intently as she walked on the sidewalk toward her townhouse.

  “Now here’s where it gets interesting… The International Traffic and Arms Regulation prevents companies from exploiting in space. That is, everyone except for the billionaire, Francis Giano.”

  “How did you find out who he was?” Angelica appeared perplexed.

  “I did some digging. You and Carl aren’t the only ones with sources.”

  “Great job, Gail!” Angelica mused.

  “Oh, and you are spot on, Angelica. The House Ways and Means Committee is responsible for all legislation that has to do with taxes, trade… that includes international trade… social or entitlement programs, and God knows what else - meaning the Committee controls most of the issues affecting the finances of our country…. Interesting, wouldn’t you say? Follow the money!”

  “That is very interesting! So you think this aerospace facility is funded by our tax dollars?” Angelica probed.

  “Not sure what to make of it just yet, but supposedly Francis has unseen bankers-investors. My source also said, there is a ‘no weapons in space’ treaty, and guess what… Francis Giano is exempt.”

  “Sounds like John Kaye was bought! And does Giano own his ass? I suspect he does,” Angelica thought aloud and shook her head.

  “Sounds as if he might.” Gail sighed.

  “Maybe an alien invasion?” Angelica laughed nervously.

  Gail was silent for a moment. “God, save us if that were the case! Carl was right, Angelica, people have been killed over this – are you still going over to the White House to barge in on John Kaye?” Gail’s disembodied voice echoed… Before Angelica could answer… “Well as your best editor I recommend you…”

  “What the fuck? What the hell was that?” Angelica yelled.

  Gail suddenly pulled the phone away, looked at it, and then put it back up to her ear. “Angelica, what’s wrong? Angelica, tell me what’s happened? Are you there?”

  Angelica stood dazed as she watched in slow motion as a black Tahoe pulled up beside her BMW parked along the curb in front of her townhouse. A man in a black mask got out with a baseball bat and slammed the hood and then walked casually all the way around the front of the car, before assaulting the windshield. He flipped the bat over his shoulders, and sauntered back to the Tahoe. As he got in the SUV, he glared back at Angelica before he drove away. Angelica ran over to her car as other observers rushed over to the scene. She stood there, wide-eyed, with her jaw dropped.

  “Is that your car?” a middle-aged man asked her.

  “Yes, and that asshole just hit it with a freaking baseball bat!” Angelica said as she threw her hands up in the air.

  A young man still panting after running over leaned down and nonchalantly stated… “Wow, now that was crazy…”

  Still stunned, Angelica just looked at him blankly. The middle-age man leaned in to take a closer look and remarked, “At least it was just the hood and windshield. It’s still drivable. Looks like you already had some damage. Your left front light is broken and the bumper is all shot to hell. I’ll wait for the police and give a statement if you’d like for me to,” he said kindly.

  Angelica managed a smile. “Thank you!”

  Angelica suddenly realized her cell phone was still clutched tightly in her hand. “Gail?” she bellowed out anxiously.

  “Angelica, what the hell just happened? I heard your voice… I was too afraid to hang up!” Gail blurted.

  “My car… those motherfuckers beat the crap out of my car – the man in the black Tahoe. The one I saw in the parking lot last night when I left the office. I’m being followed and fucking harassed!”

  Gail let out a deep breath. “Oh shit! First, how’s your car?”

  Angelica rubbed her head. “Drivable - but it looks bad! He took a freaking baseball bat to it! Fucking seriously?” Angelica closed her eyes in disbelief.

  “Okay… well, good news you can still drive it! Second, what are you thinking? Let’s drop the story woman before you look worse than your car on a table in the morgue!”

  Angelica stood frozen as the image of her pale stiff body, laid beaten on a cold metal table, formed in her mind. Then she looked down at the wound on her forearm. “No, they aren’t going to scare me! I’m going to the Capital!”

  Gail laughed spontaneously, out of shock. “You are a mad woman! You know they have places for people like you – they’re called institutions!”

  “Bye, Gail… I’ll touch base later!” Angelica hung up and walked over to her car as she heard the police sirens coming around the corner onto her street.

  The police car pulled up and the officer immediately got out of his car. Angelica watched as he walked toward her and the small crowd of observers.

  “Hello Officer!” she said without even taking a breath… “A man just pulled up in a black Tahoe and got out with a baseball bat and started hitting my car.”
Angelica looked bewildered.

  The officer was looking over at the hood, curiously. “I see that… Any idea who this man was? Why he would want to hit your car with a baseball bat, ma’am?” The officer glared suspiciously at Angelica.

  She innocently shifted her eyes to her left and thought for a moment and said, “No.”

  “Okay, ma’am, I’ll write a report. Are there any other witnesses?”

  “Yes… that gentleman over there,” Angelica pointed to the man standing on the curb talking to people as they were walking over to see what had happened. After talking to all the witnesses, the police officer left Angelica alone with half-a-dozen strangers still milling about. Angelica got into her car and drove off to hopefully find John Kaye at his office.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Angelica kept looking around anxiously for the Tahoe, worried that she was going to be blindsided by it. She noticed a few odd glances at her damaged white BMW as people passed by in vehicles.

  Trying to prepare herself for the ambush, Angelica hoped she would catch him in his office. She wondered what John Kaye looked like. She assumed he probably wasn’t meek. Angelica abruptly stopped as a yellow light had just turned red - almost hitting a pedestrian walking across the street. The man looked at her and angrily threw his hands up. “What’s wrong with you?” he yelled as he hit her hood with his open hand.

  Angelica could still see through the windshield although it was splintered like a giant spider web. She sunk down into her seat and raised her hand almost in front of her face. “I’m so sorry!” she murmured.

  As the light turned green, she accelerated past a handful of curious onlookers.

  Angelica could see the round dome of the Capitol in the distance. As many times as she had visited it or driven by, it’s majestic beauty and historic significance was always awe inspiring. She pulled up to the security gate. An armed officer stepped out and looked suspiciously at her damaged BMW. “Can I see your identification? What is the purpose of your visit, ma’am?” the officer peered at her BMW suspiciously.