Page 16 of A More Perfect Union

“Not tonight.”

“Okay.”

Rook didn’t botherhiding her grin now, but before she had a chance to explain, Park Ranger NancyEvers appeared at the gate.

“Hey, Rook, how’reyou doing?”

“Great, Nance. I’dlike you to meet Major Zoey Granger. She’s in town for a few days and is tryingto see as much of our fair city as she can.” She hefted the basket. “Beautifulnight for a picnic, don’t you think?”

“Perfect and youpicked the best place in town for it.” Nancy held the gate open and usheredthem through. “Text me when you’re done and I’ll come back down and let youout.”

“Will do.” Rookwaited until Nancy disappeared back into the park and took Zoey’s hand. “ShallI give you a little history of the park while we find the perfect place to havedinner?”

“If you’re trying toimpress me, you can consider this mission accomplished. What is this place?”

“It’s Meridian HillPark. In 1819, John Porter erected a mansion here on Meridian Hill so calledbecause it was on the exact longitude of the original District of Columbiamilestone marker, set down on April 15, 1791. In 1829, the mansion becamedeparting President John Quincy Adams’s home. After its conversion to a publicpark, Union troops encamped on the grounds during the Civil War.” She paused tocatch her breath, but before she could go on, Zoey held up a hand.

“Got it. So, this iseither your favorite place in the world or you memorized that out of a brochureor…”

“What’s the last‘or’?”

“Or you bring all thegirls here to impress them.”

Rook laughed as shespread out a blanket and began to unpack the picnic basket. “Fair question, butI’ve never brought a girl here or anyone else for that matter. It’s one of myfavorite places, but it’s always been just my place.” Rook let the words trailoff as the significance of her remark hung in the air between them. Zoey staredinto her eyes, and Rook could swear Zoey was trying to read her mind. Good luckwith that, she thought. She didn’t know why she’d told Zoey about her affectionfor the park. When she played the words back in her head, they sounded privateand intimate, like something lovers shared. Time to move this conversation in adifferent direction, preferably with the focus on Zoey.

“I guess you’vetraveled all over the world.” Rook didn’t wait for Zoey’s response beforepressing on. “What’s your favorite place?”

Zoey broke theirstare and looked off in the distance. “Hard to say. I was stationed in Okinawa,Japan, for a while. For a farm girl from Texas, it was quite a shock. Insteadof acres of land with just a few people, there were people and buildings packedinto every corner of that island. At first it felt suffocating, but then…” Shestopped as if considering the right description. “Then it was comforting. Likewhen you wrap a scared dog in a blanket and pull it tight to soothe him. It wasso easy to lose myself in the large crowds. No one cared that I didn’t speakthe language or understand the culture. I was just swept up in it all andeventually found my way.” She focused back on Rook. “Does that sound stupid?”

Rook smiled. “No. Itotally get it. There’s freedom in anonymity. It can give you the space to bewho you want to be.” She reached for the bottle of wine. “I guess you don’thave that anymore.”

Zoey’s laugh was hardand humorless. “You think? I noticed it even when I was playing touristyesterday. People would stare. Most of them didn’t have a clue who I was, butthey knew they’d seen me somewhere. I even caught a few taking pictures, nodoubt in case I turned out to be someone famous. Boy, will they bedisappointed.”

Rook popped the corkon the sparkling rosé and poured them each a glass. “Maybe. Or maybe they’llhave a new hero.”

Zoey made a face.“That sounds a little sappy, don’t you think?”

“A little, but hey, alot of people think you are a hero. I bet your parents are proud.” No soonerhad the last few words left her lips than Rook noticed Zoey’s expressiondarken. “Sorry, that was insensitive. No parents?”

“Let’s just say Idon’t think anyone’s sitting at home in Imperial, Texas, watching C-SPAN sothey could cheer me on because A, they wouldn’t know where to find C-SPAN onthe dial, and B, approving of me and my choices isn’t in their playbook.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“It’s my reality, butI try not to think about it too much.” Zoey took a drink from her wineglass.“What about you? Family in the area? Do you come from a long line of fixers?”

“Fixer,” Rookrepeated. She hated the moniker since it made her sound like someone who builthouses or worked on cars. “I prefer public relations specialist. My specialtyis helping people and/or organizations who’ve found themselves in difficultsituations navigate their way through the nightmare that public relations hasbecome in this era of hundred-and-forty-character take downs.”

“Nightmare is a goodword for it.” Zoey appreciated the frank assessment. She’d avoided Twitter andFacebook since she’d blown the whistle on Nine Tech, but she needn’t havebothered. Every time she flipped on the news, social media feeds were thesecondary source of the day.

“And I’m the first inmy family to take on this particular business.”

Zoey studied the hardlines of Rook’s expression. “Let me guess. Your family doesn’t approve of youroccupation either?”

“They can’t reallydeny my success, but they pretend they don’t understand what I do. I get a lotof ‘why did you bother to go to law school?’ at family gatherings.”

Zoey nodded, but shecouldn’t help but wonder what Rook’s response to her family’s question was.She’d gone to school on an ROTC scholarship, and without it she would’ve beenstuck at community college. Graduate school had been out of the question, butthankfully, she’d had the Army to supply her with options for her career. Noone else in her family had attended college, let alone law school.

As if she could hearZoey’s thoughts, Rook added, “My family has a history of producing fat cat lawyerswho work at large firms, billing big bucks to keep their clients out oftrouble. No matter how hard I try to explain the similarities, my particularniche is lost on them.”

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