Party of Two

by Jasmine Guillory

  “You are a sight for sore eyes,” he said as he pulled her against him.

  “Why, you’re tired of all of the suits in Washington and you’re thrilled to see some yoga pants?” she said as she snuggled against him.

  He ran his hands up and down her body and grinned at her.

  “I’m thrilled to see you, full stop, but the yoga pants are a bonus, I’m not going to lie.”

  He leaned down to kiss her, just as she slid her hands into his hair and pulled him to her. He kissed her hard, like he’d been dreaming about doing all week. She kissed him back just as hard, he hoped for the same reason. They stood there for a while, kissing, touching, not saying anything, but he felt—he hoped—they communicated a lot all the same.

  “If you still want to go on that hike, we should probably go at some point,” she said in his ear. “Though, if you’d rather go on a nice, civilized, I don’t know, winery tour or something, I’d be happy to be spontaneous for once.”

  He laughed and pulled away.

  “If you really don’t want to go on a hike, we can totally change our plans,” he said. “But I did get that cheese you liked so much last week.”

  She walked ahead of him into his kitchen.

  “Then, by all means, let’s hike.”

  He picked up the backpack full of food, water, and ice packs, and gestured toward the door.

  “All ready,” he said. “And I can’t wait to admire that new car of yours. Do you want to take it, instead of mine?” He didn’t say this to her, but he had a feeling a few local reporters recognized his car, and the last thing he wanted was to get photographed while out with her.

  She slung her backpack over one shoulder.

  “Sure, but can you drive? I’m getting used to the car, and I think I even like it, but driving in hilly areas and places where I don’t know where I’m going stresses me out. And I know it’ll make me even more stressed if you’re there in the car, judging my driving.”

  “I won’t be judging your driving!” he said with a laugh.

  She unlocked the car and got into the passenger side.

  “I’m sure you’re telling the truth, but I would still feel like you were judging me, no matter what.”

  He tossed his backpack in the back seat and got in the driver’s side. After a comically long amount of time, they figured out how to adjust the driver’s seat for his longer legs, and he drove them in the direction of Griffith Observatory.

  When they got there, they pulled into the back corner of the almost full parking lot.

  “I guess this whole ‘hiking’ thing is very popular here in L.A.,” Olivia said.

  He strapped his backpack on and adjusted his hat so it shaded—and mostly covered—his face.

  “It just means that if you faint from exposure, there will be plenty of people around to carry you to safety.”

  She glared at him.

  “Is that your idea of a joke?”

  He grinned at her.

  “Oh, you know it was funny.”

  She finally let a smile break through.

  “Fine, it was a little funny.”

  He leaned down to kiss her, but took a step back before he did. Right, they were in public. He’d almost forgotten.

  Olivia pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and put a black baseball cap on.

  They hiked along the easy version of the trail for a few miles. He slowed his stride to match her shorter one, and let himself relax, for the first time in weeks. They walked side by side, and didn’t hold hands, but were so close they may as well have been. Their fingers brushed from time to time as they walked along, and it felt so good to be this close to her, after a whole week of being away. Every so often, he would turn to look at her, and just marvel that he’d found someone like her. Sometimes she would catch him and smile at him, and he would smile back. They didn’t talk about anything hard, just the perfect spring weather, her adventures at the community center this week, and the guy who’d gotten incredibly drunk on his flight on the way home and had been escorted off the plane when they’d landed. Once they could see it, they stopped to take pictures of the Hollywood sign. And the whole way, he was so happy to be here, in one of his favorite places, with her.

  After a while, he pointed to a big tree up ahead.

  “Want to dive into these snacks?”

  Olivia grinned.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She looked out at the view and shook her head. “I have to acknowledge that this hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be. Even kind of . . . nice.”

  That felt like the biggest compliment he’d ever received.

  “I like you so much,” he said. He didn’t mean to say it, it had just come out.

  She turned to look at him, surprise and . . . was that pleasure on her face?

  “Why, because I grudgingly admitted that nature can be okay sometimes?”

  He laughed out loud as he dropped his backpack under the tree.

  “That, and for other reasons, too.” He looked down. He really should tie his shoe. “You know. I don’t think I ever thanked you for last week. I needed a quiet night—and to be able to talk to someone—more than I realized.”

  Olivia sat down, and he sat down next to her.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “I was glad I could help.” She smirked at him. “Though . . . you did say thank you, in your own way.”

  He blushed. That move of his might have violated some part of his pledge to Wes, but he hadn’t been able to resist.

  “I did, didn’t I?” he said.

  She unscrewed her water bottle and took a sip.

  “How was this week?” she asked. “I saw you on TV the other night talking criminal justice reform.” She grinned. “I should say, I saw you changing the subject to talk about it when you were actually on to talk about the scandal of the day.”

  She’d watched him on TV? He smiled, then sighed.

  “Thanks for watching. And yes, I’m good at turning the topic and making it look like it was the host’s idea—it’s one of my real strengths.” He took the cheese out of his backpack and handed it to her. “I’m going to fight for my bill no matter what, even if leadership wants me to shut up about it. I’m still so pissed that they aren’t moving it forward. Maybe if I keep bringing it up, reporters will ask my colleagues questions about it. Maybe that’s all I can hope for.”

  He hadn’t realized how bitter he still was about this until he’d started talking.

  Olivia shook her head.

  “No, there must be something else you can do.” She held up a hand to stop him from interrupting her. “Not about the bill, you know more than I do on that. But there must be something else you can do to help the kids and their families. If the goal is to help them, I’m sure there are other ways to do that. What are they?”

  He sat up straight. God, she was right. That was the question he needed to ask.

  “Of course there are. I’ve been so laser focused on my bill that I haven’t considered anything else.” He took off his hat so he could see her better. “My staff has tried to get me to concentrate more on some of the other things I can do—education, job-training programs, housing—and I support all of that, but I threw my whole everything behind this bill. I guess . . . I don’t want to think this way, but putting my energy elsewhere seems like admitting defeat.” He sighed. “And I guess my politician ego couldn’t let go of what a major victory this would be. I told myself it would be a victory for the people, and it would. But it would be a big one for me, too.”

  Olivia nodded.

  “I completely understand that. But what if you frame it as throwing energy at additional options, but don’t give up on your bill yet? Keep fighting for your bill, but make this a new thing. Make this a new thing: about education, or health care, or housing, or some bullshit about ‘t
he American family’ or something. Talk to a bunch of teachers and parents and make sure you talk to the kids, too. Hell, go on a listening tour of town halls across California, focused on communities that don’t usually get heard, or youth, or whatever, to get ideas for how to help.”

  He dropped his water bottle onto the blanket. Thank goodness he’d put the top on first.

  “I love this idea! Town halls across California, in marginalized communities. It’s perfect. I’m going to text my chief of staff about this right now.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  Olivia laughed.

  “That poor woman, getting texts from you with random ideas on a Saturday.”

  Max looked up from his phone and shrugged.

  “Luckily she’s used to me by now. But also luckily, I don’t have any reception up here, so I can’t send it yet. Hold on: let me just note this down so I can send it later.”

  He typed busily with his thumbs for a few minutes, then put his phone away.

  “Sorry about that.” He touched her cheek, just for a second. “Thank you—for the idea, and for making me feel less discouraged about everything. And I’m sorry, we’ve been talking about me a lot, haven’t we? How are you? How is the firm going, still super busy?”

  * * *

  * * *

  Olivia made herself smile big, like she always did when she got this question, and nodded.

  “Oh yeah, really busy. I’m lucky I got away all afternoon today.” Suddenly, her lies felt like ashes on her tongue. She just couldn’t do it anymore. Not with Max. “No. Wait. I’m sorry, none of that is true. It’s not that busy at all, and I’m really worried about it.”

  Max looked confused.

  “Wait, what do you mean? I thought you’ve been wildly busy since you started?”

  She shook her head.

  “No,” she said again. “I know I told you that. I lied to you. I’m sorry. They say you’re supposed to fake it till you make it, and I’ve been faking it too much. We keep networking and reaching out to potential clients but we aren’t getting as much interest as I’d hoped. We have some clients, and we’ve done some pitches, but not enough, and I’m so stressed about it. I knew this would be hard, but I guess I didn’t realize how hard it would be on me.” She finally turned to look at him. “I didn’t mean to lie to you about this, but I’m just so anxious about it and scared that I made the biggest mistake of my life and that we’re not going to make this a success, and I’ll have to . . . anyway, I’m sorry.”

  All her lies and anxieties came spilling out, until she forced herself to stop talking. What did Max think of her now?

  She didn’t realize she cared so much about that—and about him—until this moment. In retrospect, she should have known when she agreed to go with him on a hike, of all things. And she really should have known when she went shopping for new athleisure for said hike—she, Olivia Monroe, who had said she’d never be one of those L.A. people who bought fancy yoga pants! She looked down at her brand-new $100 yoga pants and laughed at herself—these certainly did make her ass look great, at least.

  How did Max manage to get her to spill her guts to him, just by sitting there next to her, with that open look on his face? He’d thought she was this successful lawyer; how would he feel now that he knew she wasn’t?

  He nudged her.

  “Hey,” he said softly. She turned to look at him. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  The look in his eyes was so kind, it made her want to cry.

  “You do?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “I do. This all must be really hard on you.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She knew they shouldn’t be touching in public, but she was so grateful for his embrace that she ignored that.

  “It is,” she said. “Especially since I know I’m good at this, I know Ellie is too, and I know we make a great team. And it was hard enough to get clients to have faith in me when I was in New York, and then I had the full backing of a big law firm.”

  He patted her hair softly as he dropped his arm.

  “Starting your own business is never easy, but I can only imagine how much harder it is when you’re a Black woman and have to deal with racism and sexism on top of everything else,” he said.

  She took a long breath. What a relief for him to acknowledge that.

  “I have full confidence in you that you’ll make it, by the way,” he said.

  She squeezed his hand, then let go.

  “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.” She closed her eyes for a second, then looked back up at him. “Max, I have to know. You say you really like me, but is this the kind of thing you do a lot? Like, the cake, and all of that?”

  He turned his whole body to face her, a very sweet smile on his face.

  “No, I’ve never sent a cake before to try to get a woman to go out with me.”

  That was a nice answer, but that wasn’t quite what she’d meant.

  “Thank you for saying that, but I guess what I meant was . . .” Shit, how should she phrase this?

  “If what you meant was, do I go around picking up women in bars on a regular basis, the answer is no,” he said. “And if what you meant was, do I go around going on dates with women and telling them I like them a lot, the answer is also no. I sent you that cake on an impulse, because you’d disappeared from my life after I saw you in that hotel bar, and when you reappeared, it felt like magic, and I refused to let you go again. And every moment I’ve been with you since then has told me that impulse was correct.”

  “Oh,” she said. There he was again, making her feel wanted. More than anyone else ever had.

  “I, um. I’m really glad you sent me that cake,” she said. “And I’m really glad to be here with you. I like you a lot, too.”

  A wide, bright, joyful smile spread across Max’s face.

  “You do?” he asked.

  She’d tried so hard to fight it, but she couldn’t anymore.

  “I do,” she said. Everything about Max was unexpected, and Olivia had never liked the unexpected. But somehow, she couldn’t get enough of Max.

  He picked up the cheese and crackers and put them back into his backpack.

  “Great. Then how about we go back to my house and take our clothes off?”

  She laughed out loud.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Nine

  It took a great deal of self-control for Max not to drive back to his house like a bat out of hell. Only two things stopped him: (1) he did not want the headlines that would come if he was stopped for speeding; and (2) he was driving Olivia’s brand-new car, and if he did anything to risk it, she might murder him before he got the chance to have sex with her.

  “I just want to be clear on this,” he said on the drive back to his house. “Are we, like, together together now?”

  Even while driving, he could tell she was laughing at, not with, him.

  “‘Together together?’ Is that some sort of official designation, Senator?”

  He slid his hand onto her thigh and forced himself to keep his eyes on the road.

  “You know what I mean.”

  She put her hand on top of his.

  “Yeah, I guess I do. And yeah, I guess we are. But . . .” She took a deep breath. “I’m not quite ready to publicly be senator Maxwell Stewart Powell’s girlfriend, if that’s okay. I mean, I at least have to get a haircut, and some new lipstick, before I have to be in paparazzi pictures.”

  He laughed.

  “I’m not famous enough for paparazzi pictures.” He turned his hand over and squeezed hers. “But I know what you mean; it’s early for all of that.”

  She’d turned it into a joke, but he understood. They had really only just started; he didn’t want to invite the rest of the world into their relationship yet,
either.

  “Plus,” she went on, “your staff will probably freak out if they find out you’re dating someone who got arrested as a teenager.”

  He laughed and touched her cheek.

  “Number one, your records are sealed, no one has to know about that. And number two, I know at least three people on my staff who have been arrested much more recently, so they have no grounds to complain.”

  They got to his house after a much longer drive than he wanted it to be. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he reached for Olivia.

  He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her. All of the kisses he’d wanted to give her while they were on the hike, while she’d given him advice and confessed about her own anxieties, he gave her now, again and again and again.

  And then, suddenly, kissing her wasn’t enough.

  He took her hand and led her into his living room, and fell down with her on the couch while they laughed together. And then, finally, he reached for the bottom of her shirt, that T-shirt that was so snug, that shirt that had been driving him wild all day.

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this,” she said.

  He leaned forward to kiss her again, just for that.

  “Good God, it’s been a nightmare,” he said.

  She ran her fingers from his temple to his chin.

  “This whole waiting thing was your idea, you know.”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t remind me, especially right now. I feel like the stupidest person in Congress, and that’s saying something.”

  He tugged off her shirt, and then sat back to stare.

  “Holy shit, Olivia.”

  She smiled wickedly at him.

  “Hmmmm?”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “If I had known all day that you were wearing this underneath that shirt, I might have aborted the whole ‘hike’ idea and never even left the house.”

  Her bra was the sexiest thing he’d seen in months, with the exception of the woman wearing it. It was hot-pink sheer lace, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to rip it right off her body or to have her keep it on as long as possible.