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But what Joy saw was a real zinger anyway.
Nate was standing behind Frankie and had pulled her back against his body. He was whispering something in her ear as she bent over the cream puffs. His face was tight with hunger and Frankie had a half-smile on her face as if she liked what he was saying to her. Joy looked away quickly.
“They sure are happy,” Tom said.
Of course, they were. Because what they had was real, not some childish, one-sided fantasy.
Joy thought back to the nights she’d stayed up imagining different ways she’d run into Gray. There were so many. Maybe they’d meet in town, just passing by on the sidewalk. He’d stop and tell her it was hot out and ask her if she wanted something cool to drink. Or maybe she was on an island out on the lake and he’d go by in one of his boats. He’d catch sight of her and pull into the dock and they’d lie in the sun. The scenarios were like little plays she directed and the outcome always ended with them kissing.
Daydreams, she thought. Fantasies. With all of it, down to the clothes he wore and the way he looked at her, existing only in her mind.
As she thought about the way Nate stared at Frankie, she couldn’t bear her pathetic hallucinations.
“Tom, would you like to go out to dinner with me?” she blurted.
The cook’s mouth actually fell open as he stopped slicing and glanced up. He looked as though someone had just offered him a free Mercedes-Benz. “Well, yeah.”
“Tomorrow night. Pick me up at seven?”
“Sure. I mean, I’d love to.”
Joy nodded and went back to work. “Good.”
Chapter Three
By the end of the evening, as the guests were either heading home to their own houses or retiring to the bedrooms upstairs, Gray categorically considered the party a success. His father had a glow on his face that had been missing for months. The food had been sublime. People had had a great time.
But he was just as happy to have it over. He’d wanted to escape for the last hour although it wasn’t because he’d been overwhelmed by the guests. Fifty people was a good-size party, but nothing like the four- or five-hundred-head social endurance tests he did regularly in D.C.
No, the problem was Joy.
He’d given himself whiplash searching the crowd for her. Every time he saw a flash of black and white, his head flipped around, but rarely had it been the woman he’d wanted to see. Over the course of the evening, he’d only caught a couple glimpses of her passing hors d’oeuvres or picking up empty glasses. She seemed to stay far away from him, as if on purpose.
Hell, that uniform was a knockout on her, so he should probably be grateful.
Gray went into his study and tore off his jacket, tossing the thing onto the back of a Chesterfield sofa. He removed his cuff links, put them in his pocket and rolled up his sleeves.
He was fixing himself a bourbon when the U.S. Senate Majority Leader walked into the room.
Gray nodded over his shoulder. “Hey, Becks. You want to join me?”
“Just add plenty of rocks,” John Beckin said with his trademark glossy smile. The expression lightened his air of masculine distinction. With his silver hair combed back from a strong face and horn-rimmed glasses perched on his straight nose, the man’s aura was one of intelligence and discretion, and it wasn’t all image. He’d clerked for Gray’s father straight out of law school in the seventies and had been smart as a whip even then. The two were still close.
Gray handed over a squat crystal glass with two inches of liquor and three cubes of ice in it.
“Thanks. Listen, I wanted to catch you alone,” John said, shutting the door. “How’s Walter really doing?”
As a career politician, and a very successful one, Becks knew how to project sympathy and understanding. In this case, Gray thought the emotions were probably real.
“Better every day.” He poured a glass for himself, neat. “But this is the first time you’ve seen him in person, right?”
“I have to tell you, it was a shock. His e-mails sounded so positive, but it’s obviously hard for him to get around. And his speech…” John shook his head. “But hell, Gray, I don’t mean to be negative. He looked happy tonight. Especially when you were toasting him. That man couldn’t be more proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
“Has Belinda been by?”
Gray tossed back the bourbon, draining the glass in two swallows. The liquor burned his gut. Or maybe that was just his anger at his mother. “No, she hasn’t.”
And she knew better than to try if he was around.
John put a hand in his pocket and went over to a window. “You know, since my Mary died, I’ve been reminiscing a lot more than I used to. These last two years have been hard for me, and I was thinking, as I saw you with your father, that he’d be so alone without you. Children are a blessing. I’m sorry that Mary and I never had any.”
Gray kept his mouth shut. As children were not in his future, he didn’t feel qualified to comment on them.
There was a silence and then John seemed to shake himself out of the mood he’d sunk into. When he turned, his face was intense.
“So, I must tell you something I’ve heard.”
Gray cocked an eyebrow. “You know how I like your news flashes.”
“Well, this one I’m not happy about. You recall those stories in the paper about certain internal disputes in the Senate? Written by the acerbic and nosy Ms. Anna Shaw?”
“I’ve read them. Sounds like you boys have a leak.”
“We do. And I know who it is.” John finished his drink, the ice tinkling musically against the crystal. “I’m afraid one of my fellow senators is having an affair with Shaw.”
Gray poured himself another shot of bourbon. “And you know this because?”
“The lovely Anna was seen coming out of the man’s hotel room. During the Democratic National Convention.”
“How does that equate with an affair? Maybe he was giving her an interview.”
“It was 4:00 a.m. She was wearing a raincoat with nothing under it. And it wasn’t the first time.”
“Well, that was stupid. On both their parts.” He brought his drink up to his lips.
“It was Senator Adams.”
Gray froze, looking over the rim of his glass. “Excuse me?”
“Roger Adams.”
As in Allison’s husband? “You sure?”
“You think I’d make up something like this?”
“Son of a bitch.” Gray put the bourbon down. Allison and Roger Adams were hardly frontrunners for marital problems. Not by a long shot.
“Now, it’s none of my business who sleeps with who on the Hill.” John started to move around the room, looking at the leather-bound books on the shelves. “God knows, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting an adulterer in that town. But I resent the hell out of a man who cheats on his wife while holding himself out to be a feminist. Adams is trying to bring another Equal Rights Amendment to the floor, for God’s sakes. He’s made a point to support women’s causes.”
God damn, Gray thought. Roger Adams.
Never would have seen that one coming. And Allison probably wouldn’t have, either.
John rattled his ice. “I have to tell you, the fact that the idiot picks a reporter and spills our secrets to her while he’s taking her to bed really ticks me off.”
The senator paused and looked across the room. There was calculation in his face and Gray’s eyes narrowed.
“I have the feeling you’re not just passing along gossip,” Gray drawled. “Don’t beat around the bush, Becks. What do you want from me?”
The Majority Leader had the grace to flush. “My fellow senators come to you for advice. They seek you out not just because you’re smart, but because you’ve gotten the most powerful of them elected. I want you to warn the others. Adams isn’t to be trusted. Not anymore. I’d do it myself, but they’d look through party lines and figure I was just trying to screw the guy.”
Gray smiled sardonically. “And you’re not? Not even considering he blocked your attempt to loosen up the campaign finance reform bill in the last session?”
“See, this is my point exactly. That’s what everyone will think when really I’m just trying to keep my Senate protected.”
His Senate. Not the American people’s.
Gray felt a wave of exhaustion come over him, like someone had thrown a wet wool blanket over his head. He was getting tired of Capitol Hill and its intrigues, he really was.
“Look, Gray, I’ll give you the names of my sources. Check out the stories yourself. And then help me put an end to these salacious articles. That reporter is making a mockery out of our political process and that gum-flapping Democrat is helping her do it.”
The door to the study burst open.
Joy pulled up short, an empty tray hanging from her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was looking for the library.”
Becks smiled paternally, the hard tone in his voice disappearing completely. “Not to worry, my dear. An interruption from the likes of you is no hardship.”
She looked flustered. “I’ll just come back for the empty glasses in here later—”
“Not at all. I’m leaving.” The senator put down his drink and smiled at Gray. “We’ll talk soon and thank you again for including me tonight. It meant a lot just to see Walter again. He did so much for me when I was getting started.”
As Becks left, Joy stared at his face as if trying to place the man. Then she shook her head. “I’ll sweep this room later.”
She turned away. And Gray couldn’t let her go.
“Joy. Wait.”
She hesitated, back straight as a wall. When he went over to her, she did not look at him.
Good Lord, she was so lovely.
The light from overhead fell down on the delicate planes of her face and brought out the golds and pale reds of her hair. Her long, slender neck was set off by the short white-lace collar of the uniform, her collarbones just barely exposed by the cut of the blouse. Even at the end of a long night, she smelled like lavender.
Gray burned.
“Let me help you,” he said roughly.
Let me kiss you, he thought. Just once.
Impatience flickered over her features, tightening the lips he stared at. “That’s not necessary. Really.”
As if she’d have preferred to be aided by a gorilla.
“I want to.”
He polished off the bourbon he’d put down, reached for the senator’s glass, which was close by, and cocked his eyebrow. She brought up the tray and he put the crystal on it.
“I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you’ve already pointed that out,” he murmured, taking the tray from her.
Joy swallowed a groan. She didn’t want to get anywhere near Gray. Not now. Not when she was trying so hard to put her crush to bed.
She winced. Bad choice of words.
“Shall we?” he said in that low rumble of his.
She glanced up and was unable to look further than the top button of his shirt.
The width of his shoulders was enough to block her view of the room entirely and he towered over her, making her feel small. She looked down a little, hoping he’d feel shorter that way. Instead she just noticed that he’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were muscular with veins that ran down into his long, sure hands.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” she demanded.
Couldn’t he go save the world or something and let her finish her job in peace?
“Nope.”
Joy gritted her teeth and walked across the hall into a parlor. Going through the beautifully appointed room, she picked up empties and put them on the tray he held. As they moved around, she could feel him looming behind her and she could have sworn his eyes were on her body.
Stop it, she told herself. She knew damn well that was just her fantasies talking. He was only helping her out, probably thought he was being chivalrous.
When they were finished there, they went into the library she’d been looking for in the first place. With only the sound of his loafers and her flats on the marble floor, the silence started to get to her.
She couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So who was that man you were talking to? I feel like I’ve seen him before.”
“Just a politician.”
Somehow she doubted that. “I think I’ve seen him on TV.”
“You might have.”
“Actually, I think I’ve seen a lot of the people here tonight on CNN.”
She walked past an antique table and realized she’d missed a glass. Stopping abruptly, she bent over to grab it.
