Chapter 4: A Whole New World - The Broken Road

Sleep claimed me shortly after the plane leveled off. I cradled my head in the crook of my arm, which I had draped across the top of the tray table. My right hand was stuck inside Cade’s carrier, which I had stashed at my feet. I ran my fingers through his soft fur off and on throughout the flight. Every once in a while, he’d let out a small yelp. This delighted the children who were sitting within earshot to no end. Cade and I were the most popular passengers on the plane, at least among the two to eight year old crowd.

Habib greeted me with a warm smile and an awkward hug when he picked me up at the airport. He loaded my luggage into the back of his cab while I walked Cade.

As Habib drove Cade and me to our new home, it dawned on me that he was my only friend in Virginia. I wondered when I had started thinking of him more as a friend and less as a cab driver. I suspected it had something to do with the lunch fiasco at the Afghan restaurant.

“Do you want me to take you to the grocery store before we go to your apartment?” Habib asked as he merged onto the King Street exit.

I shook my head. “No, thank you. I should be able to get by with what I’ve packed until my jeep and other items arrive. Besides, I can walk to the convenience store near the apartment complex if I need anything.”

Habib pulled into the parking lot in front of the lease office. He parked the car, then reached for a receipt. “Do you need a ride to work in the morning?”

I smiled gratefully as I handed him the cab fare. “Yes, please. I’m going to have to take a cab to and from work until my jeep arrives. If you’re available, I’d much prefer to ride with you.”

Cade whimpered softly.

I grabbed the dog carrier from the back seat while Habib pulled my luggage from the trunk.

I stopped inside the lease office to pick up my keys. Then Habib and I dragged my suitcases to the apartment. I unlocked the door and looked around in surprise. I had forgotten how tiny the apartment was.

Habib pulled the luggage inside, then lingered in the doorway. “When do you need to be at work in the morning?”

I set the dog carrier on the living room floor, released Cade, and scooped him into my arms. “I need to be at work by nine o’clock.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven, just to be safe. I don’t live far from here, so please call if you need anything.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Habib.”

I locked the door behind Habib before setting Cade on the floor. I laughed as he began sniffing every square inch of the apartment. I unzipped both suitcases, unpacked his food, and filled his water dish. He lapped up the water while I pulled granola bars, coffee, crackers, tuna fish, apples, a small jar of chunky peanut butter, and a bag of Ghirardelli chocolates from my suitcase. I studied the food as I set it on the counter. Something was missing, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.

I pulled paper plates, a bag of plastic utensils, a can opener, and a roll of paper towels out of the suitcase and carted them off to the kitchen. Cade trailed after me. I put the washrags, towels, and toilet paper in the bathroom. Then I tugged the blankets and pillow from the bottom of the suitcase and made a makeshift bed on the floor of the bedroom.

I grabbed the iron and plugged it in so I could iron the wrinkles out of my work clothes. I ironed my clothes over the top of my pillow, since the movers had my ironing board. I eyed my handiwork and thought about how my Girl Scout years had really paid off. Then I dialed a Chinese takeout place Mickey had recommended.

Cade and I explored the garden trails that wove around the apartment complex while we waited for the food to arrive. We ate out of the little white boxes while sitting in my makeshift bed. Then I called everyone back home to let them know we had arrived safely.

Sirens ripped us from sleep a few hours later. Red lights pulsed through my blinds as two massive fire trucks responded to a call in the apartment building across the street. They eventually turned the sirens off, but my bedroom floor vibrated from the idling engines for over an hour. I buried my head under the pillow to block out the flashing lights. Then I pulled Cade against my chest and whispered, “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Montana anymore.”

* * *

I suffered a minor meltdown when I realized I had forgotten to pack my French Press. I couldn’t make coffee without it. I am not a morning person. Coffee smooths my rough edges, and I was near hysterics when I realized I couldn’t brew any.

Cade wasn’t quite sure what to do with me, so he hid under the pile of blankets I had left on the bedroom floor.

I was completely wrecked by the time Habib picked me up, so he took me straight to Starbucks. I sent up a silent prayer asking God to bless Howard Schultz and Habib Khan Ahmadzai.

Rush hour traffic was horrid. I was thankful Habib was driving. Still, I carefully observed the route so I would know where to go when my jeep arrived. Thanks in large part to the coffee, I was in a much better frame of mind by the time Habib dropped me off next to the Senate Hart Building.

The first half of my day was consumed with a new employee orientation, getting my official Senate ID, and sorting through my benefits options. I reported back to Senator Rockefeller’s office shortly before lunch.

The legislative director escorted me to a desk that was tucked into a small cubby. I eyed my new office with a bit of disappointment. The cubicle was framed on three sides by thin fabric-lined walls that ran about five feet high. The space was just large enough to hold a desk, bookshelf, and chair. I was really going to miss having an office with a door.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why do I have a TV on my desk?” I hadn’t noticed the TVs when I toured the office during my interview.

“The TV enables you to monitor hearings on the Senate intranet, activity on the House and Senate floors, as well as the news,” Ellen explained. “Things change on a dime around here, so we need to ensure our information is as current as possible.”

The news junkie in me nodded enthusiastically. My gaze shifted to a rather ominous looking pile of paperwork, which sat at least six inches high next to the television. I was afraid to ask, so I looked at Ellen and raised an eyebrow.

She laughed. “In between monitoring developments on the television, answering calls, attending meetings, writing speeches, and drafting legislation, you need to review a pile of paperwork, at least this big, every day. This paperwork generally includes news articles, policy briefings, U.S. Supreme Court decisions, and every piece of proposed legislation in your policy area. This will help you brief the senator on the developments and recommend a course of action. The briefings will be included in the senator’s book.”

“His book?” I asked uncertainly.

“The senator’s book is second only to the Bible. If the Senator has a speech the next day, relevant to your policy area, you will be responsible for writing the talking points. If he has a vote, you have to make sure he has the material he needs to make an informed vote. You also have to advise him about what other senators and congressmen are doing, the bills they’re sponsoring, the funding streams, you name it. Jamie compiles all the briefs and supporting documents into a large binder, which we fondly refer to as ‘the book.’ Jamie gives the book to the senator each day at four-thirty, so your work has to be submitted to her no later than four o’clock. Senator Rockefeller takes the binder home and reviews the materials in the evening, in preparation for the next day. You should be aware that if he feels anything is missing, he will call and ask us to come into the office to gather additional research, which then has to be delivered to his house. The senator never sleeps, so he has been known to make these phone calls as late as three in the morning.” Ellen’s message was clear: be on time and be thorough.

“Wow.” The responsibility was a tad bit overwhelming, and I wasn’t one who shied away from a challenge. I eyed the pile again. I had no clue how I was going to get through those six inches of paperwork in time to write my briefs for today’s four o’clock deadline.

Ellen offered an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you grab a quick bite to eat before you get started?”

Patrick peeked over Ellen’s shoulder, which wasn’t difficult given how tall he was. Patrick had escorted me to the new employee orientation when I first reported to the office. My cubicle was located directly across from his. “I’m heading out to pick up the senator’s lunch. Do you want to tag along so you can grab something to eat?”

“Sure,” I responded gratefully. Two more office mates, Jonathan and Jamie, joined us as we walked out of the office. Like Patrick, Jonathan worked primarily on health policy. Jamie was Senator Rockefeller’s personal assistant. They all appeared to be in their early twenties.

I was the youngest person working in my office in Montana, so I found the fact that they were so much younger than me a bit unnerving. Besides, there was an energy rolling off Patrick, Jonathan, and Jamie, that I wasn’t quite sure I could duplicate. I felt tired just looking at them.

The four of us chatted amicably as we walked down the street. We turned the corner after a couple of blocks, then fell in line outside a tiny restaurant. I glanced at the sign. “Yamato? What kind of food does this place serve?”

“Sushi,” Jonathan responded.

I couldn’t hide my shock. “Sushi? You mean like raw fish? We’re eating raw fish for lunch?” A sushi restaurant had just opened in Missoula, Montana a few months ago, but I didn’t know a single soul who’d been brave enough to eat the stuff.

Patrick smiled broadly as he rocked back on his heels. “The senator has a standing order here. He eats sushi every chance he gets. He lived in Japan for a period of time. He loves Japanese culture and cuisine.”

“Well, that certainly explains the Japanese artwork in his office,” I murmured thoughtfully. The artwork in Senator Rockefeller’s office was extremely eclectic, with handmade quilts from West Virginia displayed on some walls and Japanese paintings adorning others. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of art he had hanging in his house. I reached for a take-out menu as we entered the restaurant. “I’ve never eaten sushi, so you guys are going to have to help me out here.”

Jamie pointed to an item on the menu I was holding. “Number six is a pretty safe bet. It’s a sampler set of salmon rolls, spicy tuna rolls, and California rolls.”

The woman standing behind the cash register looked at me expectantly. I handed her a ten dollar bill. “Number six, please.”

“Me too,” Jamie piped up. She handed the cashier her debit card.

Patrick ordered next. “I’ll take two orders of the nigirizushi set, an order of the hotate sushi, and a bowl of miso soup.”

“This is for Senator Rockefeller?” the cashier asked.

“Yes. Well, one of the nigirizushi sets is for me,” Patrick explained as he handed her a wad of cash.

Jamie pointed to an autographed picture of Senator Rockefeller. The photograph was prominently displayed on the wall next to the counter where the sushi chef was working.

“I’d like an order of rainbow rolls and an order of spider rolls,” Jonathan said with a huge grin on his face.

“Seriously?” Patrick asked.

Jonathan handed his debit card to the cashier. “What? I’m hungry, and I couldn’t decide which one I wanted more.”

I couldn’t help but admire the artistry involved with the food preparation as we watched the sushi chef make the rolls. He nodded and smiled as the waitress packed our food into white paper bags. My new coworkers continued to educate me about sushi and other Japanese food as we walked back to the office.

Patrick and I parted ways with Jamie and Jonathan as we walked to our desks. I nearly dropped my food when I discovered a deep blue vase holding a dozen long stemmed yellow roses and an impressive spray of baby’s breath. I set my food down and reached for the envelope. My breath caught when I saw who the flowers were from. “Justin?”

Patrick peered over my shoulder. “Is that your boyfriend back home?”

I glanced at Patrick. “Uh… no.” My eyes flitted back to the card. I angled the card away from Patrick as I silently read the message.

Thinking of you and hoping you have a wonderful first day at your new job! Love, Justin.

I groaned audibly. I threw the card in the trash, marched the flowers to the front office, and plopped the vase in front of two people I didn’t know. “Enjoy,” I mumbled before turning around and walking back to my desk.

Patrick shot me a curious look as I collapsed into my chair.

“Don’t ask,” I muttered. I rolled my chair closer to the desk and eyed the sushi.

Patrick chuckled softly as he approached my desk. “So, these are chopsticks.”

I gave him a dirty look. “I’m not a complete hick. I have eaten Chinese food before.”

He laughed loudly this time. “Okay. Then all you need to do is pour the packet of soy sauce into this container of wasabi and stir it up. Pick your sushi roll up with the chop sticks, dip it in the sauce, and pop it into your mouth.”

I shook my head. “I don’t do soy sauce. Can I just spread the wasabi on top of the sushi?”

A mischievous look passed over Patrick’s face. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

I eyed him skeptically as I dipped my finger into the green paste. “It’s spicy,” I noted, pleasantly surprised.

Patrick watched, clearly amused, while I spread the wasabi over the top of all six of my sushi rolls. I popped a spicy tuna roll into my mouth. My eyes watered, and my nose ran, but I loved the spicy taste. “It’s good,” I mumbled around the sushi. “Really good.”

Patrick picked up his chopsticks as he settled back into his chair. “I’m glad you like it. Now, about that pile of paperwork…”

* * *

“Finally!” I exclaimed to no one but Cade.

He looked up at me with his warm brown eyes. He cocked his head to the side, clearly questioning what all the excitement was about.

I set my cell phone on the kitchen counter. “The furniture will be delivered in less than an hour,” I explained.

Cade’s ears perked up as a soft knock sounded at the door.

I gave Cade a curious look. “You off duty, my little guard dog?” I opened the door and studied the young woman standing in front of me.

She smiled. “Hi! I’m Kelly, the dog walker. We had an appointment to meet today.”

I shook her hand, then motioned her inside. “Hi, Kelly. I’m Kri. Thanks for coming over.”

“This must be Cade. Hi, little guy.” Kelly kneeled as she invited Cade to smell her hand. He rolled over and showed her his belly instead. Kelly laughed softly. “Want your belly rubbed?” She immediately indulged him in the request.

I was pleased to see how well they were hitting it off. Cade was afraid of most people, which was understandable given what he had been through with me. Cade stood guard over me through some difficult times. He had been painfully unaware of the damage that could be done to his little nine pound body when my ex-husband’s fists and feet came flying at me.

I wasn’t sure about this whole dog walking business, but I couldn’t expect Cade to cross his legs and hold it all day, especially considering my long work hours and the commute. I watched Kelly interact with Cade. Her references had panned out. Everyone raved about her. Still, I wondered how I could trust a stranger with the one thing I loved most in the world.

“I’m glad Cade likes you. He’s afraid of most people. He’s been through… a lot.”

Kelly nodded in understanding as she continued petting Cade.

“I called your references. Your clients obviously adore you; and I understand you’re licensed and bonded.”

Kelly nodded again.

I continued. “Cade means everything to me. I have to know that you’ll always have a gentle hand with him. He nearly died at the hands of a groomer, and he was injured by my ex-husband. I have to know that you’ll never hit him or hurt him in any way.”

Kelly looked appalled that I would even suggest such a thing. “I’m so sorry to hear that Cade’s been through all that. Please know that I would never hit any animal under any circumstance.” Kelly’s voice was genuine as she continued to stroke Cade’s belly. “Can I take him for a walk and explore the property today?”

“Sure. I think that’s a great idea.” I handed Kelly the leash and showed her where I kept Cade’s treats stashed. As the door closed softly behind them, I tried to rein in my tears. My life was so different in Virginia that it was no longer recognizable. I felt like someone had held me upside down, shaken the life out of me, and left me to pick up the pieces… only none of the pieces were fitting where they’d previously been.

Kelly and Cade returned just as the moving truck pulled alongside my apartment. I gave Kelly a spare key, we agreed on a time for Cade’s walks, and I pre-paid her for the month. She gave Cade a treat and one last pat on the head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, little buddy.”

I scooped Cade into my arms and walked Kelly outside. Then Cade and I went to greet the movers. I was anxious to see something familiar, something that would reconnect me with my old life.

* * *

Driving up I-395 into DC was a special kind of hell. The other drivers were beyond rude. No one wanted to let me merge onto my exit. I had my turn signal on and tried to inch in, but the cars were bumper to bumper and no one would budge. Some man flipped me off for even trying. For whatever reason, the every-other-car-goes-through rule did not apply inside the Beltway.

I was forced to take a different exit. I spent twenty minutes looking for a place to pull over so I could program my Garmin. I hadn’t bothered to program the GPS when I left my house because I’d taken the route so many times with Habib. I knew the way, but I was forced into unfamiliar territory when I missed the stupid exit.

It took me another fifteen minutes to reach the parking garage under the Thurgood Marshall Building. My nerves were completely shot by the time I parked the jeep. I couldn’t release my death grip on the steering wheel. All I could think about was how much I wanted to move back home. I laid my head on my hands as I burst into tears.

I'm not sure how long I sat crying in the poorly lit garage, but a security guard eventually rapped on my window. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

I jumped in my seat when I heard his voice. I released the steering wheel so I could lower my window. “Yes, officer. I’m okay. I’m sorry. It’s just that… this was my first time driving in DC. I’m not used to driving in such a big city.” I brushed the tears off my cheeks. I couldn’t believe I’d been caught crying over my commute.

His eyes gentled. “Driving around here does take some getting used to.” He glanced at his watch, then added, “I’m Nathaniel. Can I escort you to your office building?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I know my way to the Senate Hart Building from here.”

Nathaniel smiled. “I could really use an excuse to get out of this dingy garage. I much prefer fresh air,” he confided in a soft voice.

I suspected this was outside Nathaniel’s protocol, but his warm eyes and kind smile were difficult to resist. “Okay. In that case, I’d really enjoy the company.” I smoothed my tear stained hands down my skirt and gathered my purse and briefcase. I left my untouched coffee behind.

Nathaniel reached for my briefcase as I locked the jeep. “Here, I’ll carry that for you.”

I smiled gratefully as I handed him the briefcase. “Thanks. It’s really nice to meet you Nathaniel. My name’s Kristine.”

He fell in beside me as I walked toward the stairwell. “You know, Kristine, everyone struggles with the commute around here. Part of the problem is our transient population. There’s always a good percentage of people on the road who aren’t familiar with the area.” He opened the door to the stairwell and held it open for me.

I shot him an apologetic look as we walked up the stairs. “I’m afraid I’m one of those people.”

Nathaniel’s smile widened as he opened the door to the main lobby. “The other problem is the layout of the roads, but I have a theory about that…” Nathaniel nodded to the guard at the security desk before opening the door that led outside.

“What’s that?” I asked curiously.

Nathaniel winked at me. “That the roads in DC were the South’s last revenge on the North.”

I burst out laughing. “Wow. That’s some serious revenge.”

Nathaniel waved to another security guard, who was standing in front of Union Station. “So, where are you from?”

I glanced at Nathaniel. “I’m from Montana. Have you ever been there?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No. I’ve never traveled beyond Virginia and Maryland. I was born and raised in DC.”

I was completely shocked. “Are you serious? Everything is so close here. You could be in West Virginia, Delaware, Philadelphia, or New York in just a few hours.”

He shrugged. “My entire family lives here, and DC is a fun city. I see no reason to leave.”

I studied him curiously. Maybe DC had some redeeming qualities after all, if someone who grew up in the district never wanted to leave.

Nathaniel eyed the Senate Hart Building. “So, which senator are you working for?”

I smiled. “Senator Rockefeller.”

He glanced at me. “I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard he’s a very nice man.”

I nodded. “He does seem very nice. He’s certainly devoted to helping people who are less fortunate than he is.”

Nathaniel cocked his head and smiled. “We can certainly use more people like that.”

I turned to face him as we approached the entrance to the building. “I agree. Thanks for walking me to my office, Nathaniel. That was very kind of you.”

He handed me the briefcase. Then he pulled a business card from his wallet and tucked it in my hand. “It was my pleasure, Kristine. If you need anything at all, please feel free to call. I’m here most weekdays.”  He gently patted my shoulder. “Things will get better, you’ll see.”

As I walked up the stairs toward the glass doors, I couldn’t help but think they already have.

I spent the entire morning digging through the monstrous pile of paperwork that had accumulated during my absence. I’d only been gone for one day to supervise the movers, and it looked like I had missed an entire week’s worth of work. I was about three inches into the pile when Patrick threw me a life preserver. “Want to go to Cups with me?”

I glanced up from the paperwork. “What’s Cups?”

Patrick smiled. “It’s a coffee shop in the basement of the Russell building. They have awesome coffee… better than Starbucks.”

I set my pen down. “Nothing’s better than Starbucks.” I was testing Patrick. Starbucks was good, but I knew there was better. I really loved the little mom and pop shops that had cropped up all over Montana, Idaho, and Washington… especially the ones that roasted their own beans.

Patrick laughed. “Just you wait and see. Come on! I’ll give you a tour of the underground tunnels while we’re at it.”

The underground tunnels sealed the deal. As we made our way to the basement, I thought about how different Montana and DC really were. Take drive through coffee shacks for example. They were scattered all across Montana, but I hadn’t seen a single coffee shack or even a drive through Starbucks anywhere in Virginia or DC. The same held true for bagel and donut shops. They offered drive through services in Montana but not in DC. I found the lack of drive through options in Virginia and DC truly mind boggling, especially considering the crush of people living in the area and the amount of time they had to spend in their cars.

My eyes widened in surprise when we finally reached Cups. The place was essentially a windowless office converted into a coffee shop, but it had a very long line. I figured that was a good sign. I was even more surprised when I took my first critical sip of Cups’ toffee nut latte. I had to admit Patrick was right about their coffee.

“I have a feeling I'm going to be spending a lot of time at Cups,” I mumbled around a mouthful of scone. The chocolate chip orange scone was about the most decadent pastry I had ever eaten. We nursed our coffee as Patrick guided me through the underground tunnels. Our first stop was the Senate Dirksen cafeteria, which was swarming with people.

Patrick waved to another staffer who was walking by with a tray. “The cafeteria serves breakfast and lunch. The food is good and it’s cheap.”

I nodded. “Good to know.”

Shortly after leaving the cafeteria, we entered a modern looking corridor where I made a surprising discovery. “I didn’t know the metro ran under here.”

Patrick laughed. “That’s not the metro. That’s the Senate Subway. It connects all the senate buildings to the Capitol.”

I stopped abruptly. I was totally enthralled with the discovery. “Can we ride it?”

Patrick chuckled. “Sure. We’ll catch it on the way back.” He continued walking down the corridor that ran alongside the train track. Artwork from a nearby elementary school lined the entire walkway.

I trusted Patrick knew where he was going until my surroundings started looking a bit sketchy. We had just entered a narrow corridor that appeared to be from a different century. “Patrick, are you sure it’s okay for us to be here? This area doesn’t look like it’s intended for the general public.”

“We aren’t the general public,” Patrick reminded me. “We’re under the Capitol building now. We’re allowed to be here as long as we have these.” Patrick flashed his Senate badge at me.

I studied my badge. “I didn’t realize this gave us access to the Capitol.”

“Oh, yeah. I can show you all the places the general public never gets to see.” Patrick winked at me. He was clearly enjoying his role as personal tour guide.

The Capitol was the most beautiful building I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop gaping at the artwork or the architecture. The gleaming Brumidi Corridors offered the grandest and most ornately painted walls I’d ever seen. The marble stairs that led to the old Senate and Supreme Court chambers were worn down in the center from so many feet passing over them. Goose bumps danced along my skin when I thought about the historical figures who had walked down those very same steps. I could have spent months inside that building and still not seen all the beauty it had to offer.

Patrick and I caught the Senate subway back to the Hart Building. By the time we settled back in at our desks, I had a whole new appreciation for my senate fellowship.

* * *

It was four-thirty on Friday. Senator Rockefeller had just left with “the book.” Rumor had it he was heading to West Virginia for the weekend. All work was abandoned when he walked out the door. Everyone began discussing their plans for the weekend. My plans weren’t terribly exciting since my primary objective was to get through the boxes still crowding my apartment.

About thirty minutes after Senator Rockefeller left, Jonathan, Patrick, and I went to explore the cause of a huge ruckus that arose from the ground floor of our office suite. When we rounded the corner to the conference room, I came to a screeching halt. The office manager was handing out what appeared to be Samuel Adams and Yuengling beer. I turned toward Jonathan and whispered, “Does Senator Rockefeller know we’re doing this?”

Jonathan laughed. “He paid for it.” He stepped forward to grab a beer.

I was speechless. Patrick handed me a beer. Jamie joined us as we wandered back up to our desks. She perched on the edge of Patrick’s desk as she relayed stories about some rather outrageous constituent calls she had received earlier in the day.

I took a long swig of Yuengling and set the bottle on my desk. I eyed my phone. I was itching to call Charlie and Kimme. They would never in a million years believe I was drinking a beer in the U.S. Senate. I dialed the toll free number Charlie had encouraged me to use.

“Senior and Long Term Care, Charlie speaking.”

I smiled at the sound of his voice. “Charlie? You’re never going to believe what I’m doing right now!”

Charlie chuckled warmly. “Wait. Kimme is sitting right here. I’ll put you on speaker phone.”

Kimme’s voice suddenly rang out. “Hi-ya honey bee!”

I felt myself relax for the first time in days. “Oh my God. You sound so good! I miss you so much.” I grabbed my beer, leaned back in my chair, and propped my heels up on the desk. “I have so much to tell you guys. Do you have time to talk?”

“For you? Always,” Charlie replied.

I caught Charlie and Kimme up to speed on everything that had happened to me since arriving in DC. They couldn’t believe I was drinking beer at work. Kimme thought it was awesome. Charlie… not so much. They took turns filling me in on everything I was missing at my old job. I closed my eyes and let their stories wash over me. It felt like we were sitting around my desk talking shop, just like we always did. I made it through the phone call without crying. The beer helped. A lot.

Jamie, Patrick, and Jonathan gathered near my desk. “You ready to head out?” Jonathan asked.

“Am I ever!” I shut my computer down and reached for my purse.

“We’re heading over to Union Station for dinner and drinks at Thunder Grill. You should join us. They have mango margaritas…” Jamie suggested enticingly.

“A mango margarita? Well, as tempting as that sounds, I’m barely capable of managing rush hour sober, and I think I’ve hit my limit with this beer.” I tossed the empty bottle in the recycling bin. I really wanted to join them, but I had no interest in driving home in the dark. Besides, Cade was waiting for me.

Patrick reached for my briefcase. “Walk with us, then.”

“Sure,” I responded gratefully. We joined the throng of people exiting the building. Soft jazz drifted over us as we walked down Second Street toward Union Station.  I peered around the people walking in front of us. “Where is that music coming from?”

“There’s a sax player who plays for tips down at Union Station. He wasn’t here earlier this week, but he’s around most of the time. He’s good isn’t he?” Jamie responded.

I nodded. “Yes, he is. Quite good.”

Jonathan had been walking in front of us, but he slowed and matched his pace with mine. “Do you work out?”

I gave him a curious look. “Yes. Why?”

“Your commute would go by a lot faster if you waited until rush hour died down. Senate staff can join the gym at the Thurgood Marshall Building at a discounted rate. If you joined, you could hit the gym after work instead of sitting in traffic. Your commute would be a piece of cake by the time you were done working out, and you wouldn’t have to go to the gym after you got home.”

I briefly contemplated kissing Jonathan. “That is a brilliant idea! So brilliant, in fact, that I’m going to head over there now to sign up.” We were nearing the Thurgood Marshall Building so I turned to say goodbye. “Thank you guys for helping me get through this first week. Have fun tonight.”

“Have a good weekend, Kri,” Jamie and Jonathan both responded.

Patrick gave me a one armed hug. “Drive safe.”

I went to check out the gym. It was small but doable. I completed the required paperwork, then hurried down the stairs to the parking garage. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could lounge around in my pajamas with Cade. Sadly, Cade wasn’t the only thing waiting at home for me. There was a mountain of boxes with my name written all over it.

* * *

I settled into a nice routine at Senator Rockefeller’s office. My commute proved quite manageable once I began delaying the start time and working out at the gym. My work days were long, but the weekends were proving even longer. I enjoyed my time with Cade, but I was sorely lacking a social life. Despite the frequent calls back home, I felt utterly alone. I knew I had no one to blame but myself. Jonathan, Patrick, and Jamie had repeatedly invited me to dinner, drinks, and weekend house parties, but I always declined. If the truth be told, I was too scared to drive through DC alone after dark.

Today was one of those rare September days when the humidity had been replaced with crisp, cool, breathable air. I thought about how much I missed being outdoors as I made my way toward a worn wooden bench in a heavily treed park, which was tucked between the Senate Hart Building and Union Station. The park offered a welcome reprieve from the noise and chaos that formed the fabric of Hill life. The trees were just beginning to hint at their fall colors, and I found the patchwork canopy of green, gold, orange, and red leaves comforting.

All thoughts of work faded away as a friendly gray squirrel jumped up to join me on the park bench. He was clearly hoping to share my lunch. I was thankful for the distraction so I indulged him.

He cocked his head at me when I offered him the last piece of bagel. His question was clear.

I showed him my empty hands.

With a quick flick of his tail, he scampered off in search of another meal.

I took a deep breath and savored the musky smell of turning leaves. I was wearing slacks, so I kicked my heels off and hugged my knees to my chest. A sudden wave of homesickness washed over me, causing my vision to blur with tears that had been held at bay for far too long. I choked down a sob as I tucked my face into my knees. I tried to make myself as small as possible, so no one would see me cry. I sat like that for some time, completely curled in on myself, until a shadow fell over me.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I swiped at my tear-stained cheeks as I lifted my head from my knees. “Hi.”

“Would you allow me the honor of singing you a song?”

I studied the young black man standing in front of me. He had warm brown eyes that hinted at a smile. His dark curly hair was closely trimmed, and his shirt and khaki pants looked worn but clean. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t bring any money with me.”

His eyes softened. “I only want to see you smile.”

I stared up at him, both fearful and flattered. “Okay,” I reluctantly agreed.

The young man reached for my hand as he lowered himself to one knee. I hesitated, for just a second, then placed my hand in his. His eyes met mine as he softly began to sing.

My breath caught. He was singing the lyrics from Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love.” His warm falsetto tone wrapped around me like a soft velvet blanket. The entire park hung suspended in time as he sang the lyrics to the song.

A number of people clapped as he finished the song. He rose to his feet, then gently kissed my hand. He smiled as his eyes met mine. “You have a beautiful smile,” he said. He bowed slightly as he released my hand. Then he turned and walked away.

I had no idea who the young man was or where he’d come from, but he had single handedly erased all of my pain.

* * *

The next morning, Senator Rockefeller invited me to join him for a meeting with a policy advisor from the Kaiser Family Foundation. He wanted to discuss the Medicare Early Buy-in Bill that I was drafting. While I had accompanied the senator to hearings and watched him speak on the Senate floor and at public policy events numerous times, this was the first time I had been invited to attend a private meeting in his office. I wasn’t sure if it was his large frame, his family history, his deeply intelligent eyes, or the power that rolled off him in waves, but Senator Rockefeller seemed larger than life to me. I was completely intimidated by him.

When Jamie directed Ms. Feinstein and me into the senator’s inner office, I was surprised to see him abandon the position of power behind his desk. He shook Ms. Feinstein’s hand as he joined us on the other side of the desk. Then he motioned us toward a group of comfortable chairs, which were nestled under a large ink wash painting. The painting depicted a whimsical Japanese landscape.

Senator Rockefeller offered us drinks before folding his large frame into one of the chairs. I listened attentively to the banter between Ms. Feinstein and Senator Rockefeller. I was uncertain of their relationship at first, but I soon realized they were friends who shared a deep desire to improve access to health care.

Ms. Feinstein set her Diet Coke on the coffee table. “So, Jay, have you decided how you’re going to vote on the legislation eliminating the estate tax tomorrow?”

I was a bit surprised by the question. The bill she was referring to was deeply controversial, and it wasn’t related to health care.

Senator Rockefeller eyed his friend thoughtfully. His fingers were steepled under his chin. “My wife is probably going to kill me, but I cannot in good conscience vote for that bill.”

“Why not?” Ms. Feinstein inquired. The amused look sparking in her eyes gave me the impression she knew exactly why the senator wasn’t voting for this bill.

Senator Rockefeller scowled at his friend. “The only people this legislation helps are wealthy people like me… people who, quite frankly, don’t need the tax break. The bill doesn’t benefit the vast majority of people living in West Virginia. In fact, this bill will adversely impact them because it reduces funding for programs that help low income individuals.”

I was certain my jaw hit the floor, but I was too stunned to pick it back up. I had always been impressed with Senator Rockefeller’s commitment to helping disadvantaged people. This commitment was what had initially drawn me to him, but killing this bill would have huge implications for his family. He was clearly putting the needs of his constituents above his own; and with that act of selflessness, my respect for Senator Rockefeller grew by epic proportions.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ms. Feinstein confided with a knowing smile.

Senator Rockefeller’s eyes met mine. “Kristine is our new fellow from the John Heinz Foundation. She’s been drafting a bill that would allow individuals who are ages fifty-five to sixty-four to buy into the Medicare program.” He smiled encouragingly as he turned the conversation over to me.

I took a deep breath as I shifted my attention to Ms. Feinstein. “This bill is geared toward a vulnerable population. As you know, people in this age group are often forced out of their jobs and replaced with younger, cheaper employees. When this happens, they lose their employer sponsored health care. Because of their age, they find it difficult to secure another job. They are often unemployed for long periods of time, or they end up taking part-time jobs where they don’t receive any benefits. Because most people have preexisting conditions by this age, insurance companies refuse to cover them, or they charge them outrageous insurance premiums that are simply not affordable.”

Ms. Feinstein leaned forward in her chair. “So the Medicare Early Buy-in Bill would allow these individuals to buy into Medicare with an affordable premium?”

I nodded. “Precisely. The premium would be set on a sliding fee scale, based on income.”

“What’s the cost?” Ms. Feinstein asked.

Because it was the one question I didn’t have an answer to, it was the one I’d been dreading most. “The Congressional Budget Office is still performing a cost analysis,” I confessed. In all honesty, I was concerned about how the CBO would score the bill. I had a sneaking suspicion the office would completely disregard the money this bill would save Medicaid, which was a state run program that drew federal matching funds. If they left this out of their calculations, they’d kill my bill before it even got to committee.

“Well, you aren’t going to find many republicans who support the expansion of Medicare. Have you talked to Senator Jeffords’ or Senator Snowe’s staff? I think you’ll stand the best chance of building bi-partisan support if you can get them on board,” Ms. Feinstein added thoughtfully.

“I agree,” Senator Rockefeller replied. “I’d like you to talk to Senator Collins’ staff too. Let me know what they have to say about co-sponsoring. Once CBO scores the bill, we’ll regroup.” Senator Rockefeller rose from his chair. He patted me on the back. Then he shook Ms. Feinstein’s hand and thanked us for our time.

I gave the senator a curious look. I was quite certain it was I who should have been thanking him. My legs were still shaking when I walked out of his office, but I was so relieved I hadn’t made a fool of myself that I hardly even noticed.

* * *

The next morning, I scheduled appointments with the legislative assistants working on health policy, more commonly referred to as Health LA’s, for Senator Jeffords, Senator Snowe, and Senator Collins. I e-mailed each of them a policy brief, a bill summary, and a draft of my proposed bill.

I was working my way through a pile of constituent mail requesting the senator’s support for a number of health care initiatives when I spotted a postcard from Boca Raton, Florida. I didn’t know anyone visiting Boca Raton, so I presumed I had been given the postcard by mistake.

I flipped the postcard over and found it was clearly addressed to me. Not only that, but the message was written in French. I skimmed over the words. Mon coeur, je te suivrai jusqu’au bout de la terre. Tu m’appartiens.

The vast majority of words were unfamiliar to me, so I logged onto my computer and pulled up Google Translate. I read the translated text, then slumped into my chair. Michael had found me in DC. I read the words again. My heart, I will follow you to the ends of the earth. You belong to me.

I stared at the card. Was Michael planning to follow me to DC? He had obviously figured out where I was working. What was I going to do if he approached me? Dan wasn’t here to protect me. The DC police didn’t know me, and I was quite certain the restraining order from Montana wasn’t valid in Virginia or DC.

The thought of facing Michael’s instability and his unwanted affections by myself was making it difficult for me to breathe. My heart was pounding. My arms and legs felt numb. I had never experienced a panic attack before, but I was quite certain I was dangling over the edge of one now.

With shaking hands, I scrolled down the list of contacts on my cell phone until I found Dan’s name. I hit the call button and waited anxiously for him to pick up. My knee bounced in time to the plea pinging across my mind. Pick up. Pick up. Please Pick up.

“Hi, darlin’. How’s your day?”

I stilled. “Good. Well… not good. I don’t know, Dan. I need your help.”

Dan took a deep breath. “Slow down, Krissy. Tell me what’s going on.”

I glanced over the top of my cubicle. No one was around, but I lowered my voice anyway. “It’s Michael. I don’t know how he did it, but he’s figured out where I'm working. None of my friends would have told him. How did he find me?”

Dan exhaled loudly. “Wait. What?”

My eyes flitted toward the postcard. “He sent me a postcard from Boca Raton. The postcard was buried in the constituent mail that was sitting on my desk this morning.”

“What did the post card say?” Dan asked. His voice was low and deadly, a warning that the tension deeply coiled within Dan was seeking some release.

I stared at the translation on my computer screen. “He said he would follow me to the ends of the earth. Is that a threat? Do you think he's threatening to come to DC? Oh, God. What if he’s already here? He’s clearly delusional. He won’t take no for an answer. What if he forces himself on me?”

“Stop. I want you to take a deep breath. Do it for me right now,” Dan demanded sternly.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay...”

“All right. This is what I’m going to do. I don’t think Michael is living in Helena anymore. If he was, then I would have run into him by now. So I'm going to put a trace on him. I have a number of contacts from my skip tracing days who can help me locate him. If he’s still living in the U.S., I’ll find him. If he’s not at a location where I can personally deliver the message, then I’ll find someone who can effectively deliver the message for me.”

I was almost too afraid to ask. “A message?”

“Yes. A message… to stay the fuck away from you. It will be delivered in very few words. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

My heart stalled. I was more than a little concerned about how a man like Dan would deliver a message like that. “Uh, yes. I think so.”

“Now, this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell Rockefeller’s office manager, his front office staff, and the security staff for your building about this guy. You’re also going to tell your lease officer about him. The more people who know about him, who can keep their eyes open for him and warn you if they see him, the better. Do you have a picture of him?”

“No. We only went on four dates,” I responded defensively.

“Do you think he’s on Facebook?” Dan asked hopefully.

I shook my head. “No. Michael is an old world kind of guy. I seriously doubt he’s on Facebook.”

“Okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find a picture of him and e-mail it to you. You make sure that all those people I asked you to talk to get a copy of that picture. So, now that you know what we’re both going to do, this is what you’re not going to do. You’re not going to open your apartment door without knowing who is on the other side. You’re not going to leave your sliding glass doors open. You’re not going to leave your apartment alone at night, and you’re not going to walk Cade on any secluded trails. You stay near people. The more people the better. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dan. I understand.” I didn’t like it, not one bit. In fact, I was seriously questioning my decision to call Dan.

“Good. I’ll contact you with any new information. You do the same. Keep your eyes open, Krissy. Stay smart.”

“I will… and, Dan?”

“For you, darlin’, anytime.”

“Thank you.” He was trying to avoid hearing it, but I was determined to say it anyway.

“Just doin’ my job,” Dan responded before disconnecting the call.

I set the cell phone on my desk and tucked the postcard into my top drawer. I wasn’t crazy about advertising the insanity that was my life, but Dan’s advice seemed sound. There wasn’t much I could do until he e-mailed the picture, so I pushed Michael to the furthest corner of my mind and buried myself in work.

* * *

I had no idea how Dan pulled it off, but I received an e-mail, with a picture of Michael attached, the very next day. A promise was a promise, so I distributed copies of the photograph and some cliff notes on Michael to my office manager, the front office staff, and the head of security for our office building.

Thankfully, it was Friday. Most senators had already left the Hill. Rockefeller’s staff drew straws to see which half could go home early. I was among the lucky ones.

Although it was early, rush hour was still a bear. I wasn’t about to complain, since I made it home by five o’clock. Most days I didn’t get home until seven or seven-thirty. When I arrived at my apartment, I found a sticky note on the door informing me that a package was being held for me in the main office.

I walked to the front office. I was pleased to see that Mickey was still there. We were the only two people in the office so I perched on the chair across from her desk. “Hi, Mickey.”

She set her paperwork aside and smiled. She had a beautiful white toothy smile, the kind people pay big money for. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate, and her face was framed with long black and gold braids that fell halfway down her back. She was short and very curvy, the kind of girl who causes whiplash. “Hi, Kristine. It’s good to see you. Are you here for your package?”

I was surprised Mickey remembered my name. There were hundreds of tenants living in our apartment complex, and I had hardly seen her since moving in. I smiled, then nodded. “Yes… and please call me Kri. Most of my friends do.”

Mickey rose from her desk and retrieved the package from a locked room. She handed me the box as she settled back into her chair.

I glanced at the label. The package was from Dan. I wondered how had gotten a package to me from Montana overnight. Nothing gets out of Montana in a day. I gently shook the box. I couldn’t imagine what Dan would send. I chewed my lower lip nervously as I contemplated whether he would have Michael’s ear or finger cut off and mailed to me.

“Maybe it’s a care package,” Mickey suggested.

I began tugging at the tape. I was pretty certain it wasn’t a care package. Dan wasn’t the kind of guy who sent presents. He was the kind of guy who showed his love through service. I worked the last piece of tape off the top of the small box and opened it. A single item lie nestled in the brown packing paper. I held it up to examine the object more closely.

“Mace?” Mickey asked. “Wait! That’s the good stuff.” She stood to take a closer look. “Yep. That’s the kind that’s issued to police officers. You can’t buy that from a store.”

I studied the small plastic canister. I wondered how Dan had obtained it and whether it was legal for me to carry. “Well, I suppose I should be thankful he didn’t send me an Uzi.”

Mickey looked a bit concerned by my statement, so I figured it was as good a time as any to explain my situation. I had multiple copies of Michael’s picture, so I slipped one out of my briefcase and handed it to her. I told her about the proposal, the restraining order, and the postcard.

Mickey eyed the picture. “Wow. This guy is hot… like a younger, more mysterious version of Antonio Banderas.”

“Yeah. Sadly, the guy is crazy.” I sighed because it really was sad.

Mickey folded the picture in half and shoved it in her purse. “What are you doing tonight?”

I shrugged. “Nothing, really. I was able to leave work early for a change, but I don’t have any plans. I don’t know my way around very well, and I’m not comfortable being out after dark.”

Mickey smiled. “Why don’t you join me and a few other tenants for drinks at TGI Fridays? You can ride with me.”

I perked up instantly. “Really? That would make this my first night out since moving to DC. Do I have time to walk Cade and change out of my work clothes?”

Mickey nodded. “Sure. Meet me back here at six o’clock.”

I was already halfway out the door. “I will. Thanks for inviting me!”

I hurried back to my apartment. I unlocked the door and dumped everything on the counter. I apologized to Cade the entire time I walked him. I fed him dinner. Then I tore through the clothes in my closet. I rejected several outfits before settling on a short black skirt, a gray silk-blend sweater, gray stockings, and tall black boots. The ensemble was comparable to what I saw most girls wearing to work on the Hill. I ran a quick brush through my hair, refreshed my mascara and lip gloss, and sprayed some Bvlgari perfume on for good measure. I left a light and the television on for Cade. Then I loaded him up with treats.

Mickey drove to TGI Fridays, which was only three blocks from the apartment complex. She wore the same outfit she had been wearing at the office… a long bohemian style dress in teal, orange, and red with gold jeweled flip-flops that showed off her artfully painted toes. Mickey managed to snag a table in the bar just as another group was leaving. We climbed onto the tall stools and ordered margaritas when the waitress stopped by.

Mickey glanced over the other bar patrons, then turned her attention to me. “So, if I remember rightly, you’re from Montana. What was it like living there?” She took a sip from the largest margarita glass I’d ever seen. The monstrous container looked like it might hold the equivalent of four standard size margaritas.

“I enjoyed living in Montana. People are friendly, we don’t have any humidity, and it snows about eight months out of the year. We spend a lot more time outdoors than you do here… hiking, skiing, boarding, snowmobiling, and snowshoeing. No one has more than a fifteen minute commute, so there’s more time to play and to have a personal life,” I noted wistfully.

Mickey looked thoroughly unimpressed. “When I think of Montana, I think of cowboys, Indians, and gold miners.”

I chuckled softly. “We still have our fair share of cowboys, Indians, and gold miners, but they’re a dying breed.”

Mickey stilled. “Did you ever run into any wolves or bears?”

I stirred my margarita with my straw, then sampled the drink. “No wolves. They’re still pretty scarce. Mountain lions and bears are more common. You have to be careful where you hike. Most people carry bear spray.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. “What’s bear spray?”

I laughed. “It’s a giant can of pepper spray.”

Mickey folded her forearms on the table. “Did you ever run into a bear?”

I nodded. “Once. I had run into a convenience store in Cooke City. When I came out of the store, I found a big black bear sitting on the hood of my jeep. He was trying to get my dog. Thankfully, I had only cracked the windows open an inch.”

“What did you do?” she asked incredulously.

I shrugged. “There wasn’t much I could do. Two large dogs came ripping out of nowhere, and they chased the bear down the street.”

Mickey shook her head. “I don’t think I’d like living in Montana.”

I tried to picture Mickey, the bohemian goddess, in Montana and choked on my drink.

Her eyes narrowed. “Do any black people live there?”

I glanced at her apologetically. “A few. Not many. I think somewhere around one half of one percent of the population is African American. There’s not a whole lot of ethnic diversity in Montana.”

“Black people do not like nature. They don’t like snow or the cold, and they’re too smart to live anywhere where they might get eaten by a bear,” Mickey responded vehemently.

This time I didn’t choke on my drink. I snorted the margarita right out of my nose. Just as I was mopping up my face, an incredibly good looking man strode purposefully toward our table. Mickey followed my gaze as I stared open-mouthed at the guy.

“That man is F-I-N-E fine,” Mickey whispered as she watched him cross the room.

Fine was not the right word, not even close. The guy was seriously hot. Although, he apparently didn’t feel the need to impress anybody, since he was wearing gym clothes. His black dry-fit shirt showed off broad shoulders, clearly defined pecs, and what looked to be eight pack abs. Black workout pants hung loosely from his narrow hips but still managed to show off well-muscled thighs. Like Mickey, he was black, but his skin coloring was lighter… the color of a caramel macchiato before you stirred the whip cream in. He had soft brown eyes and a neatly shaved head. His whole physique screamed athlete, although there was something about him that seemed dangerous, almost lethal, but in a really good way.

He walked right up to Mickey. “Hey, Mickey.”

Mickey tucked her braids behind her shoulder as she smiled. “Hey, Kadyn. Glad you could make it. This is Kri. She just moved into the Point at Park Center too.”

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Kadyn.”

I snapped my jaw back into place as I shook his hand. “Hi. Did you say your name is Cade?” The crowded bar was noisy, and I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly.

Kadyn slowly released my hand. “No, Kadyn. K-A-D-Y-N.” He smiled like he got that question a lot.

The waitress stopped by, no doubt on a mission to meet K-A-D-Y-N, Kadyn. She patted him on the shoulder. “Hi, love. Can I get you anything?”

His eyes remained locked on mine. “I’ll take a Sprite.”

The waitress shot me a dirty look before walking away. I watched her walk to the bar before shifting my attention to Kadyn.

“What brought you to DC?” He asked as his eyes recaptured mine.

I wondered how he knew I wasn’t from the area. Is it that obvious I’m not from around here? “A senate fellowship. I'm working on aging and health care policy on the Hill.”

“Really. Which senator?” Kadyn asked. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off me.

Mickey’s head was bobbing back and forth like she was watching a tennis match.

I glanced at Mickey nervously. I wondered whether she was feeling the same tension I was feeling. It felt like some invisible string was pulling me toward Kadyn. My eyes returned to Kadyn when I realized I still hadn’t answered his question. “I’m working for Senator Rockefeller.”

Kadyn nodded. His face was completely unreadable. The Sprite was now sitting on the table in front of him, untouched.

I fidgeted nervously under his continued gaze. The heel of my boot slipped from the lower rung of my stool, and I was suddenly thrown off balance.

Kadyn’s hand was wrapped around my bicep before I even saw him move. “You okay?”

My face was practically buried in his well-chiseled chest. I tore my gaze off his chest and slowly looked up at him.

He was towering over me. Heat rolled off his body in waves.

Suddenly, the rest of the room just fell away… the noise… the people… everything. I was definitely not okay. “Uh… yes. Thank you.” I could tell my face had turned a brilliant shade of red because I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I did an internal eye roll. Way to go, Kri.

Kadyn removed his hand from my arm, but he remained standing by my side.

The proximity of his body to mine completely short circuited my brain. I suddenly found it very difficult to think… and breathe. I tore my eyes from his and stole a glance at Mickey. I was quite certain I had that deer-in-the-headlights look on my face.

Mickey studied us curiously. A Cheshire cat size smile spread slowly across her face.

My heart did a flip. Mickey looked entirely too pleased. Had she purposely set us up? I glanced around the bar. Where were the rest of the tenants? I tried to ignore the fact that Kadyn was standing next to me. I wasn’t about to look at him again, especially when he was standing so close. So I studied my margarita like it was my job.

“Kadyn works at the Pentagon,” Mickey offered in an effort to get our conversation back on track.

I risked a sidelong glance at him. “Really? What do you do there?”

He reached for his Sprite. “I manage secure travel communications for the Secretary of Defense and the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

I abandoned the margarita. “What exactly does that entail?”

Kadyn smiled politely. “Most of what I do is considered a matter of national security, so I can’t really talk about it.”

I immediately snapped an imaginary band against my wrist. “I will not date. I will not date. I will not date,” I muttered under my breath. I risked another glance at Kadyn. “Are you in the military?”

“Yes. I'm in the Air Force.”

“He’s an officer in the Air Force,” Mickey interjected, as if I wasn’t already impressed enough. “Hey, maybe Kadyn can help you with your stalker problem.”

I groaned as I buried my face in my hands. I was completely mortified that Mickey would air out my dirty laundry in front of someone who quite obviously had his poop in a scoop.

“You have a stalker?” Kadyn asked drily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled into my hands.

Mickey laughed. “I do! This here is a picture of the guy.” She pulled the picture out of her purse and handed it to Kadyn. “Although, I can’t say that I would mind him stalking me.”

Kadyn studied the picture. He looked at me and raised a single eyebrow, evidently waiting for some sort of explanation.

I shrugged.

Kadyn glanced at Mickey.

I pasted an innocent look on my face, reached for my margarita, and kicked her stool.

She laughed, then locked her mouth with an imaginary key.

Kadyn set the picture on the table. His eyes narrowed as he turned toward me. “Do you like to work out?”

I peered warily over the top of my margarita glass. “Yes, why?”

His face remained completely unreadable. “Have you joined a gym yet?”

I studied Kadyn, admittedly curious about his new line of questioning. “Yes. I joined a gym in DC for federal employees. I usually go right after work, while I wait for traffic to die down. It’s a very small gym, similar to the one at our apartment complex.”

Kadyn nodded. “I have some free guest passes for Gold’s Gym, which is where I work out. It’s just up the street from here. They have a good size gym, and their rates are very reasonable. You should come check it out.”

I set my margarita glass down and shoved it aside. “It would be nice to have a decent size gym to work out in on the weekends. There’s usually a long line of people waiting to get on the equipment at the apartment complex, and they don’t have a lot of free weights.”

“We're working on that,” Mickey mumbled around the straw in her margarita.

Kadyn pulled a business card out of his wallet.  “Do you have a pen?”

I dug through my purse, then handed him a pen.

He wrote his cell phone number on the back of the business card and handed it to me. “Give me a call when you’re free, and I’ll show you around the gym. Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to do but aren’t comfortable exploring alone. I’ve gotten to know this area pretty well.”

“Thanks.” I tucked the business card into my purse. I wasn’t sure whether Kadyn was asking me out or just trying to help.

Kadyn glanced at Mickey. “Are you ladies ready to leave?”

“Yes,” Mickey and I replied in unison.

Kadyn helped Mickey from her stool as the three of us paid for our drinks. Then he shifted his attention to me. “I’ll walk you out.”

I glanced up at him and smiled as I tucked my wallet back inside my purse. “Thanks, Kadyn.”

He reached for my arm as I slid off the stool. His hand slid to the small of my back as we made our way through the crowded bar. His hand fell to his side when we reached Mickey’s car. “Kri,” was all he said as his eyes searched mine. Then he turned and walked away.

There was something about the way he said my name. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I was left with the distinct impression that Kadyn had just laid claim to my heart.

* * *

I was flipping Kadyn’s business card in my hand for about the fiftieth time. I was still in my pajamas, curled up next to Cade on the couch. I wanted to call him, but I was too scared. I didn’t have the best track record with men, and there was no one around to pick up the pieces if something went wrong. Besides, I had issued a moratorium on dating. “It wouldn’t be dating if he was just showing me around. I could always drive my own car,” I commented to Cade.

Cade didn’t look convinced.

“Well, either way, I’m not flying in blind.” I tossed the business card on my coffee table and picked up my cell phone. I glanced at the clock. It was noon, which meant it was ten o’clock in Montana. I scrolled through my list of contacts. My thumb paused over the top of Kimme’s name. I hit send, then counted the rings. One… two…

“Hi stranger.”

“Hey, Kimme! I hope I didn’t call too early.”

“Nope. I’m on my third cup of coffee already. Besides, you know you can call us any time. Dan told me about Michael’s postcard. Are you okay?”

I reached for my coffee cup. I frowned when I realized it was empty. “Yes. Dan schooled me on a few things. I’m being very careful, and I’m feeling a little safer.”

“Good. Dan’s still trying to track Michael down. He’s been holed up in his bat cave for the past two days, but I think he’s dug something up on Michael. He's standing here glaring at me, like that ever works. Evidently, he wants to talk to you.”

I could hear Kimme and Dan scuffle over the phone. Kimme was giggling in the background. Then Dan’s voice came over the line. “Hi, darlin'. Did you get my package?”

I shuffled out to the kitchen to refill my coffee cup. “Yes. Thanks, Dan.”

“The mace is meant to be carried on your key chain so you’ll remember to take it with you whenever you go out.”

I set the coffee pot down. “I promise I’ll carry it with me.”

“Good. So, look… I haven’t located Garcia yet, but I did learn a few interesting things about him. Did you know he's wanted by the authorities in Portugal?”

My heart skipped at least three beats. I was almost too afraid to ask, but curiosity got the best of me. “Wanted… for what?”

“Insider trading, money laundering, and tax evasion. Portugal has a warrant out for him. There’s no way he’s going back to that country unless he wants to do time. There’s some speculation among their news media that suggests he may be connected to an Eastern European terrorist group, although I haven’t been able to confirm that connection. I have no idea how he got into the United States, but I doubt he’s here legally. He must have some very good connections.”

I sank onto my couch. “Or a lot of money,” I murmured as I reflected on Michael’s hand tailored suits, his Cartier watch, and his Saab convertible.

“Or both,” Dan countered.

“Well, I guess I should be relieved he isn’t wanted for being a serial killer,” I remarked jokingly. Still, it was disturbing to know the guy was a criminal.

“The guy is either dumb as a box of rocks, or he’s confident in his ability to buy off the U.S. authorities. He didn’t bother changing his name, and he risked being deported when he violated that restraining order you had against him.”

I warmed my hands on my coffee cup. “So, why didn’t the police in Montana arrest him?”

“Hard telling. My guess is they didn’t look beyond their own criminal databases when you reported the incident and filed for the restraining order. Don’t worry. I’ll find him, and I’ll make sure the authorities get a hold of him. Now, enough said about that. You called us. Were you checking in with Kimme, or did you have some news for me?”

I took another sip of coffee. “Well, actually, I was calling to talk to you. I met this guy…”

Dan groaned. “Stop right there. You what? When? Where? Why?”

I rolled my eyes at the phone. “Calm down, Dan. It’s not what you think. I went for drinks with my lease officer after work last night. She invited some other tenants, but this guy was the only one who showed up. He seems nice enough, but it’s not like I can trust my judgment in men. And, just for the record, I am not planning to date him. I’m not dating anyone while I'm here, but he offered to show me around. I’ve been too scared to go out by myself, so I really could use some help learning my way around.”

“I don’t like it,” Dan growled.

“He’s Air Force,” I elaborated. Dan was Navy, so I wasn’t quite sure how favorably he’d view that piece of information. For me, serving in the military was an admirable quality. For Dan, it depended on which branch you served in.

“Oh, God. Please don’t tell me he’s a fly boy.” I could practically hear Dan slam his hand against his forehead.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t think he is. He’s an officer, but it sounds like he manages communications for the Secretary of Defense.”

“Are you sure his story is legit?” For Dan, trust didn’t come easy.

“I have his business card,” I suggested optimistically.

“Sweetheart, anyone can make up a business card. Did you Google him?”

“No. Now why didn’t I think of that?” I responded irritably.

Dan sighed. “What’s his name?”

I picked up the business card and read the name. “Kadyn Shawn Rand.”

“Hang on.” I heard Dan clicking away on a keyboard. He must have wandered back into the bat cave. The bat cave, as Kimme and I fondly referred to it, was simply a back room in Dan’s house that was strictly off limits to women. Every once in a while, Kimme managed to slip in undetected. Apparently, Dan had quite the computer set up, a police scanner, some weapons, and God only knew what else stashed away back there. “I found him.”

I set my coffee on the table. “Really? That fast?”

“Looks like he played football for the Air Force Academy.” Dan paused for a few minutes while he read. “Star running back,” he murmured. Then there was silence.

I looked at Cade and shrugged.

“God, Kri!  He’s four years younger than you. You are robbing the cradle old lady.”

“I am not old! I’m only twenty-eight. I didn’t know he was that young. He doesn’t look that young. Besides, I’m not going to be dating the guy. I just want to know if I can trust him enough to show me around.”

“Yeah, right,” Dan snorted.

“Well?” I asked, mildly annoyed.

“Well, what?”

I sighed heavily. I knew Dan was toying with me. I could tell by the tone of his voice. “Can I trust the guy?”

Silence.

“Dan? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

I growled in total exasperation. “Yes, you’re still there… or yes, I can trust this guy?”

“Yes. You can trust this guy. He’s not Navy… but at least he’s not a jarhead.”

I raked my hand down my face. “Dan! Both of my brothers were Marines!”

The line went silent as Dan grappled with his response. Finally, he answered. “Yes, darlin’, I think you can trust the guy to show you around. He’s got to have a very high security clearance in a job like that. He’s squeaky clean if he’s working with the Secretary of Defense.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good. Thanks, Dan.”

“You’re welcome. We done here?”

I reached for my coffee. “Yes, I think so.”

“Stay safe… and keep that mace on you.”

“Yes, dad!”

Dan laughed as he hung up the phone.

I looked down at Cade.

His head popped up when he felt my attention shift toward him.

I ruffled the fur on his head. “Looks like he’s one of the good guys. I’ll give him a call tomorrow.” As tempted as I was, there was no way I was calling Kadyn within the first twenty-four hours. I pulled a gray hoodie from my closet and tugged it over the top of my pajamas. I shoved my feet into my running shoes, hooked Cade to his leash, grabbed my keys, and headed out for a walk.

* * *

By noon on Sunday, I had dialed Kadyn’s number and hung up at least ten times. I wasn’t trying to hang up on him. I just couldn’t bring myself to type in all of the numbers. My nerves kept getting twisted, like I was planning a date. Finally, I managed to dial all ten numbers and let it ring through.

He answered the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi. Kadyn? This is Kri, from TGI Fridays.”

“Hi, Kri. How are you?”

I shook my head. His voice was as unreadable as his face. “Good. How are you?”

“Fine.”

I took a deep breath and forged through. “I need to run some errands later this afternoon. I know this is very last minute, but I was wondering if you were free to join me. I need to track down a few places that I haven’t been before, and I don’t want to end up driving into the wrong neighborhood. I hit a detour last week and ended up getting lost in Anacostia, in an area where all the windows were secured with heavy metal bars.” I shuddered as I recalled how terrified I’d been to pull over and program the GPS.

“You had good reason to be concerned about Anacostia. I’m free this afternoon. What time do you want to go?”

I fist bumped Cade’s paw. “Okay. Great. Does one o’clock work for you?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll drive. I need to get a better handle on driving around here, and I’m more likely to remember how to get to these places if I have to drive the route.”

“Okay. I’m in building thirteen. I’ll meet you out front at one.”

“Sounds good. See you soon!” I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I disconnected the call. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been dreading going out alone. I took Cade for a long walk, swiped on some lip gloss, ran a brush through my hair, and walked to my jeep. I had a designated parking spot in the garage underneath the building across from mine.

Kadyn was standing outside his building by the time I pulled my jeep around. He was wearing a Chicago Bears hoodie, navy blue warm-up pants, and sneakers.

I turned down my music as Kadyn folded his massive frame into the jeep. “Hey. Thanks for tagging along.”

Kadyn smiled. “No problem. Where do you need to go?”

I reached for my Garmin. “I need to find a Verizon store so I can purchase a new cell phone. My current phone seems to have a mind of its own. I also need to find Target and PetSmart.”

“You won’t need your GPS. I know where all three of those stores are located. There's a PetSmart next to Target on Route 1. The Verizon store is on the way.” Kadyn turned up the volume on my stereo. “Are you listening to 2Pac?” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

I glanced at him as I pulled away from the curb. “Yes. I like 2Pac. Why? Don’t you?”

Kadyn looked entirely too amused. “Yes, but I didn’t peg you for a 2Pac kind of girl.”

I raised a single eyebrow. “Really? What kind of girl did you peg me for?”

“A country girl. Don’t they listen to country music in Montana?”

My eyes narrowed. “How do you know I’m from Montana?”

“Turn right at the light,” Kadyn instructed. He leaned back in his seat, then added, “I Googled you.”

I turned to look at him. “You Googled me? Wait. There’s information about me on Google?”

Kadyn looked surprised. “Haven’t you ever Googled yourself?”

I shook my head. “No. Should I?”

Kadyn just smiled.

I tried not to wreck the jeep. He had a really great smile.

“Take the exit for I-395 North, like you're driving to work, then take the Glebe Road exit.”

I merged onto the exit ramp. “What does Google have to say about me?”

“My search pulled up a number of press releases about you being awarded the fellowship. There were a few agendas that listed you as a key note speaker. You published some reports as an elder rights advocate for the State of Montana, and you apparently hosted a television show called Aging Horizons.”

I stared at Kadyn. His expression was completely unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was amused, impressed, or bored stiff with what he had learned. “I had no idea there was anything about me to Google.”

He nodded toward an exit ramp. “Exit here. The good news is that your address and phone number don’t appear anywhere on the Internet.”

“Well, that didn’t stop my stalker from tracking me down at work.” As soon as I registered what I said, I slammed my mouth shut. I hadn’t intended to bring up the stalker again. Unfortunately, my mouth didn’t get the memo.

“Some of the press releases mentioned that you’d be working for Senator Rockefeller.” He glanced out the window. “The Verizon store is two blocks up, on your left.”

“I didn’t think of that,” I murmured. I glanced in my rear view mirror and moved to the inside lane.

Kadyn’s gaze lingered on my face. “Those senate buildings are pretty secure. You just need to make sure he doesn’t follow you home. So, what’s the story on this guy?”

I turned into the parking lot and parked the jeep. I glanced at Kadyn as we began walking toward the store. “It’s not much of a story. We went on four dates, he proposed, I said no, he lost his mind… so I had to get a restraining order.”

Kadyn stepped forward and opened the door. He followed me into the store. “Those must have been some dates. Are you getting another LG?”

I glanced down at my phone. I was surprised he had noticed it was an LG. “Yes to the LG. No to the dates. We had lunch twice and dinner twice. That’s it.” I felt a pang of guilt at the half-truth. The dates hadn’t been anything extraordinary, but the physical attraction between Michael and me had scared the crap out of me. I had come darn close to sleeping with him, but I wasn’t going to admit that to Kadyn.

A salesman approached us. “Can I help you?”

I focused my attention on the task at hand. “Yes. I'm due for an upgrade on my phone. I’d like to get the new LG Dare. Can you set that up for me?” I handed the salesman my driver’s license, credit card, and cell phone. “Please make sure all of my contacts, music, and photos are transferred to the new phone. Thanks.”

I sighed heavily as I turned to face Kadyn. “I just learned that Michael is wanted for a number of white collar crimes in Portugal, he may be connected to some Eastern European terrorist group, and there’s a good chance he’s in the United States illegally.” I figured I might as well lay it all out on the table.

Kadyn stilled. “What did you say this guy’s name is?”

My eyes widened when I saw his muscles tense. I swallowed nervously. “Michael Garcia.”

Kadyn nodded, once. “Good to know.”

We wandered over to the counter where the sales clerk was programming my new phone. I signed the charge slip while he offered some instructions. He had me confirm the list of contacts and pictures had transferred over to the new phone before handing me a shopping bag and my old phone. “Here you go. You’re all set.”

“Thanks,” I responded as I admired the sleek new phone. Kadyn and I walked back to the jeep.

“Do you mind if I look at your phone?” Kadyn asked as we climbed into the jeep.

I smiled as I handed him the cell phone. “Not at all.”

“Turn left out of the parking lot. Then turn left when you hit Route 1. You’ll go through a couple of traffic lights before you see PetSmart and Target in a shopping center on your right,” Kadyn noted before settling into his seat. The conversation stalled while he played with my phone. He looked up when I pulled into the PetSmart parking lot. “What kind of dog do you have?”

I glanced at him as we climbed out of the jeep. “How did you know I have a dog?”

He handed me the phone. “There’s a ball in the back seat.”

I shook my head and laughed. Kadyn was proving insanely observant. “I have a Shih Tzu. He’s essentially a nine pound ball of fur with a ninety pound personality.”

Kadyn smiled as we began walking toward the store. “What’s his name?”

I chuckled softly. “His name is Cade.” I snuck a sidelong glance at Kadyn to see how he’d respond to having nearly the same name as my dog.

Kadyn stopped walking. “You can’t be serious.”

I laughed at the look on his face. “Actually, I am. His registered name is Master Cade Tasha’s Pride.”

“Well, that certainly explains the attitude,” Kadyn remarked as he resumed walking.

Kadyn and I stopped to look at the birds before I grabbed a few things for Cade. He carried the dog food back out to the jeep. We tossed the dog food, shampoo, and squeaky toy into the back of my jeep before we walked over to Target.

Kadyn helped me pick out a birthday present for Siobhan. We settled on a glow in the dark teddy bear that she could color with markers. He went to the electronics department to grab some ink cartridges for his printer while I picked out a card and some wrapping paper for Siobhan. We checked out, then walked back over to the PetSmart parking lot.

I set my shopping bags in the back of the jeep. “Where did you grow up, Kadyn?”

He glanced at me as we climbed into the jeep. “I grew up just outside of Chicago, in Aurora, Illinois.”

I slid the key into the ignition, then backed out of the parking space. “So, what made you decide to join the Air Force and study at the academy?”

A huge smile spread across Kadyn’s face. “How do you know I went to the academy?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “I asked my friend, Dan, to check you out. He’s a Navy veteran.”

Kadyn chuckled. “I guess we’re even then.” He paused as he glanced at an incoming text on his cell phone. “The Air Force Academy has one of the best computer science programs in the country, and I wanted to play for their football team.”

I turned onto Route 1 as I retraced my steps back home. “Have you ever been deployed?”

Kadyn nodded. “Once, to Saudi Arabia, shortly after I was stationed in South Carolina.”

“Where else have you been stationed?” I asked curiously.

Kadyn shoved the cell phone in his pocket and turned to face me. “I just moved from South Carolina to Virginia in August for a two year assignment at the Pentagon.”

“Are you still at risk of being deployed?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

He shrugged. “I’m currently assigned to the Secretary of Defense. I travel with him on occasion, and I might have to go TDY, but I’m not likely to be deployed while I’m serving in this position.”

I merged onto the exit ramp for I-395 South. “Both of my brothers served in the Marines, and they were both deployed to Iraq. One of my brothers was running weapons to the front lines. I was so scared. Every time I heard a news report about our troops being injured or killed, I ended up sobbing. I kept waiting for that phone call… for someone to tell me that my brothers had been killed. That’s not an experience I want to repeat.”

Kadyn nodded. His face was completely unreadable.

I groaned softly when I realized I might have offended him. “I’m sorry, Kadyn. I really admire your willingness to make that sacrifice. I just don’t know how to live with that kind of fear, knowing the person you love is in constant danger and at risk of being killed.”

“I think it’s harder on the families than it is on the person being deployed,” he responded thoughtfully.

I pulled through the security gate for our apartment complex and drove to the front of Kadyn’s apartment. I hated ending our conversation on such a negative note. I offered him an apologetic look. “Thanks for coming with me, Kadyn. I really enjoyed hanging out with you.”

He smiled. “No problem, Kri. Give me a call if you want to check out the gym or if you need more help finding your way around.”

I felt a huge pang of regret as I watched Kadyn walk away. Did I really just tell the guy I couldn’t stomach a relationship with him because he might be deployed? I groaned as my head hit the steering wheel. Although I had no intention of dating Kadyn, I was certain I had just royally screwed up.