Once again, we've reached my limit. 'Something personal. But it wasn't their fault.'
'You always so forgiving?'
'You always so pushy?'
She rests an elbow on the bar, leans in close, and forces me back against the wall. 'What you see is me,' she says with a dark smile.
'Exactly,' I tease back. 'That's exactly my point.' I hop off my stool and head toward her. In the Counsel's Office, it's the first rule they teach you: Never let them pin you down.
'Where you going?' she asks, blocking my way.
'Just to the restroom.' I squeeze past her and everything between my chest and my thighs brushes against her. She grins. And doesn't give up an inch.
'Don't be too long,' she purrs.
'Do I look that stupid?'
I return from the restroom just in time to see Nora taking a sip of my beer. I put a hand on the back of her shoulder. 'You can order your own--they have plenty for everyone.'
'I just needed it to take some aspirin,' she explains, placing a small brown prescription vial back into her purse.
'Everything okay?'
'Just a headache.' Pointing to the vial, she adds, 'Want some?'
I shake my head.
'Suit yourself,' she says with a grin. 'But when you see this one, I think you're going to need it.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
As I take my seat against the wall, Nora leans in close. 'When you were on your way to the restroom, did you happen to see any familiar faces walk in?'
I look over her shoulder and scan the bar. 'I don't think so. Why?'
Her grin goes wide. Whatever's going on, she's enjoying herself. 'Far left corner of the room. By the video screen. White button-down. Saggy khakis.'
My eyes follow her instructions. There's the video screen. There's the . . . I don't believe it. Across the room, running his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, is Edgar Simon. White House Counsel. Lawyer to the President himself. My boss.
'Guess who just got the best office gossip?' Nora sings.
'This isn't funny.'
'What's the big deal? So he's gay.'
'That's not the point, Nora. He's married. To a woman. At his level, if this gets out, the press'll . . .'
Nora's smile falls away. 'He's married? Are you sure?'
'For something like thirty years,' I say nervously. 'He's getting ready to send his first kid off to college.' I lower my head to make sure he doesn't see me. 'I just met his wife at that reception for AmeriCorps. Her name's Ellen. Or Elena. Something with an E.'
'Dumb-ass, that's where you met me.'
'Before you got there. Right when it started. Simon introduced me to her. They seemed really happy.'
'And now he's here hoping for some extra tricks on the side. Man, when it comes to adulterers, my dad can pick 'em.'
In the two weeks since we met, it's the fourth time Nora's made a reference to her father. And not just her father. The father. The father of the American people. The President of the United States. I have to admit, no matter how many times she says it, I don't think I'll ever get used to it.
Bent forward, with a sweaty hand grasping the edge of the bar, I'm frozen in position. Facing me, Nora has her back to Simon. 'What's he doing now?' she asks.
Using her head to run interference, I refuse to look. If I can't see Simon, he can't see me.
'Tell me what he's doing,' she insists.
'No way. He sees me, I'm meat. I won't get another assignment until I'm ninety.'
'The way you're acting, that's not too far off.' Before I can react, Nora grabs me by the collar and ducks her head down. As she holds me up, I get a good look at Simon.
'He's talking to someone,' I blurt.
'Anyone we know?'
The stranger has curly black hair and is wearing a denim shirt. I shake my head. Never seen him before.
Nora can't help herself. She takes a quick peek and turns back around, just as the stranger hands Simon a small sheet of paper. 'What was that?' Nora asks. 'Are they exchanging numbers?'
'I can't tell. They're--' Just then, Simon looks my way. Right at me. Oh, shit. I drop my head before we make eye contact. Was I fast enough? With our foreheads touching, Nora and I look like we're searching for lost change under the bar.
Suddenly, a male voice says, 'Can I help you?'
My heart sinks. I look up. It's just the bartender. 'No, no,' I stutter. 'She just lost an earring.'
When the bartender leaves, I turn back to Nora. She has an almost giddy look on her face. 'Quick on your feet, macho man.'
'What're you--'
Before I can finish, she says, 'Where's he now?'
I raise my head and glance in his direction. The problem is, there's no one there. 'I think he's gone.'
'Gone?' Nora picks her head up. We're both scanning the bar. 'There,' she says. 'By the door.'
I turn to the door just in time to see Simon leave. I take another look around the bar. Pool table. Video screen. Along the wall by the restrooms. The guy in the denim shirt is gone too.
Nora responds like a lightning bolt. She grabs my hand and starts pulling. 'Let's go.'
'Where?'
'We should follow him.'
'What? Are you nuts?'
She's still pulling. 'C'mon, it'll be fun.'
'Fun? Stalking your boss is fun? Getting caught is fun? Getting fired's f--'
'It'll be fun and you know it. Aren't you dying to know where he's going? And what was on the paper?'
'My guess is he got the address for a nearby motel, where Simon and his denim-man can play Buy Me a Blowjob to their heart's content.'
Nora laughs. 'Buy Me a Blowjob?'
'I'm making a few assumptions--you know what I mean.'
'Of course I know what you mean.'
'Good. Then you also know there's nothing gained from a little gossip.'
'Is that what you think? That I'm in it for the gossip? Michael, think about it for a second. Edgar Simon is the White House Counsel. Lawyer to my father. Now if he gets caught with his lasso out, who do you think's going to be publicly embarrassed? Besides Simon, who else do you think is going to take the black eye?'
Reference number five hits me where it hurts. Reelection's only two months away and Hartson's having a hard enough time as it is. Another black eye'll start the jockeying.
'What if Simon's not in it for the sex?' I ask. 'What if he was meeting here for something else?'
Nora stares me down. Her let-me-drive eyes are working overtime. 'That's the best reason of all to go.'
I shake my head. She's not talking me into this.
'C'mon, Michael, what're you gonna do--sit around here and spend the rest of your life playing what-if?'
'Y'know what--after everything else that happened tonight, sitting here is more than enough.'
'And that's all you want? That's your big goal in life? To have enough?'
She lets the logic sink in before she goes for the kill. 'If you don't want to follow, I understand. But I have to go. So give me your keys and I'll be out of your way.'
No question about it. She'll be gone. And I'll be here.
I pull the keys from my pocket. She opens her hand.
I once again shake my head and tell myself I won't regret it. 'You really think I'm going to let you go alone?'
