Page 17 of A More Perfect Union

Zoey sensed there wasa deeper story about Rook’s motivation to avoid the family business, but shesimply said, “That must be hard.”

“It was, but I solvedthe problem by being as successful as I could and not caring what they think.Needless to say, we don’t spend a lot of time together.” Rook reached into thepicnic basket. “Now, enough depressing, dysfunctional family talk. I’mstarving.”

On cue, Zoey’sstomach growled and they both laughed. With the change in tone, Zoey decided toabandon drilling deeper into what made Rook tick. Rook pulled out a selectionof cheeses, crackers, charcuterie, and olives, and they dug into the food. Zoeycouldn’t help but wonder if both of them were avoiding conversation until theycould steer it to something innocuous, but for her part, she wasn’t sure whereto begin. She liked Rook’s sense of humor and her easy manner. If they weredifferent people in different roles, she might even consider seeing her againdespite the vast disparity in the way they approached the world. Rook had grownup with every opportunity but wasted her talents helping famous people cover uptheir problems. Zoey had grown up with nothing and had dedicated her life toservice so the world could be a better place. Okay, perhaps that wasn’t a faircomparison, but she’d seen real problems that created real news, not the gossipcolumn problems of the rich and famous that Rook was hired to spin. Boiling itdown that way made it hard to deny the striking difference. She decided toenjoy the moment and put aside deeper thoughts. “This cheese is amazing. Whatis it?”

“It’s a Manchego withtruffles,” Rook said. “One of my guilty pleasures.” She sliced another pieceand placed it on a cracker. “Try it on this. I plan on having this at my lastmeal.”

Rook reached towardZoey’s mouth with the cheese-laden cracker. Zoey held a hand out to take thefood, but before she could, Rook’s fingers grazed her lips and her traitorousmouth opened on cue and her tongue touched Rook’s skin sending currents ofpleasure throughout her body. If this hadn’t been a date before, it sure feltlike one now.

A loud buzzinginterrupted her thoughts, and Rook reached into her pocket with a sheepish lookon her face. “Sorry,” Rook said as she answered her phone. “Daniels here.”

Rook’s expressionhardened as she listened to the voice on the other end of the conversation.Zoey sipped her wine and tried not to eavesdrop, but the urgent tone andclipped phrases pulled her in.

“You’re kidding…Howlong?…And they don’t know?…Be right there.” Rook slipped the phone back in herpocket. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“Is something wrong?”Zoey asked, hoping Rook’s worried frown wasn’t a harbinger of some direpersonal emergency. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, it’s work. I’dsend someone else, but this particular client demands my personal touch.” Rookpacked up the picnic basket as she spoke. “I’m so sorry to cut our d—outingshort.” She stood and held out a hand. “Rain check for next time you’re back inDC?”

Zoey took Rook’s handand climbed to her feet. They were standing only inches apart, and the heatshe’d felt earlier flared up again. Rook had been about to call this a dateand, in every way except this abrupt parting, it was one. But it was the lastone. She would’ve understood if Rook had raced off to care for an ailingrelative or to help someone in need, but a 911 for PR trouble on a Sundaynight? Nope, Rook’s priorities were all wrong, and even if neither one of themwas willing to call this night what it was, there would be no repeatperformance.

Chapter Six

A week later,Zoey stood outside the Shake Shack at Pentagon City, the shopping mall situatedone Metro stop from the government building it was named for. Building wasreally a misnomer for the Pentagon considering it was the size of a small citythat housed about fifty times more people than the West Texas town where she’dgrown up.

Zoey had two moredays of freedom before she started her new assignment, and while she was bothexcited and nervous at the prospect, she had more pressing issues to face.First up was defying all odds to find a place to live before she reported toher new assignment on Monday morning, and she’d enlisted the perfect person tohelp her.

Margaret Sharp showedup on time, exactly what Zoey would expect from a career officer’s wife. She’dfirst met Margaret when she was still very green after David had taken herunder his wing. She’d spent many Sunday afternoons eating way too much potroast and then playing pickup games of touch football with the entire Sharpfamily at her first base assignment, Fort Bragg. Margaret had regaled her withstories about all the exotic overseas assignments David’s career had taken themon, and later took credit for Zoey’s wanderlust, but at the time Zoey was justhappy to have pseudo family to call her own. The ease with which she’d fit inamongst them almost made the pain of her own family’s indifference bearable.Almost.

“I love this place,”Margaret said. “But every time I think of it, there’s always a huge line. Thisworked out perfectly. I figure we can eat now before the crowds and then spendthe rest of the day narrowing down the search for your new home.”

Home. The wordsounded so permanent, so real. Zoey hesitated to entertain the idea thisassignment might result in her staying in one place for any length of time longenough to consider it home, but the prospect was inviting. She’d spent hercareer moving from base to base and taking every deployment opportunity shecould get. Roots were for people with spouses and kids. The only long-termrelationship she’d ever been interested in cultivating was with the service,and a week ago she’d thought her affair with the Army might be coming to anend. Now that she was assured a more permanent assignment, the idea of settingdown roots was actually appealing.

“I don’t need much,”she said. “A simple apartment, maybe with an extra bedroom for a study.”

“How about atownhouse? Colonel Peters is transferring to Fort Benning, and his place is upfor sale. You’d have some of the benefits of living in an apartment—no yardwork, neighbors close by, but you wouldn’t be tossing your money away on rentand you’d be building some equity. We’ve been out there a couple of times andit’s a really nice place. It would be perfect for you.”

Zoey fixated on“neighbors close by” and started to rethink the whole apartment idea. She’dlived her life in the close confines of the various bases she was assigned to,and until this moment, she assumed that was all she’d ever wanted, but that wasbefore she’d turned on her peers and become a pariah on base. Even after she’dtransferred stateside from Bagram, she’d noticed the whispers and side-eyeglances from fellow soldiers at Fort Hood. Close quarters meant closer torejection, and she could do without the reminder she was alone in a crowd.

“You know, I think Imight like to look at something different. An actual house with a yard. Irealize real estate can be a little off the rails here, but I have quite a bitin savings. I’m open to renting for now just to have a place to live, and thentaking some time to find something more permanent if things work out for me tostick around.”

“House it is,”Margaret said. “We should be able to make this work.” She drummed the tablewith her fingers as she worked through the change in plans. “I’m thinkingFairfax or Vienna would be good places to start.” She reached a hand across thetable. “And I have a feeling things are going to work out for you to stickaround for a long time. David is so very happy to have you close by. Hecouldn’t stop talking about you after he got back from the party Saturdaynight. I swear he couldn’t be more proud of you if you were his flesh andblood.” The buzzer signaling their food was ready lit up and skittered acrossthe table. “If you’ll pick up our burgers, I’ll run a few quick searches atMilitaryByOwner.”

Zoey complied, happyto leave the details to Margaret. She had no idea where Fairfax and Vienna wereor what MilitaryByOwner was, but she was confident Margaret would make sure shefound the amenities she wanted in close proximity to her new office. The onlysurprising thing about their conversation had been Margaret’s revelations abouther husband. Zoey hadn’t been certain how to read Sharp’s reactions since she’dbeen called on the carpet two weeks ago, and she’d suspected her promotion wasmore for show than because anyone in Army command thought she deserved areward. To hear he was proud of her, even if she didn’t hear the words directlyfrom him was a welcome accolade, and she tucked the warm fuzzy away in case sheneeded a reminder at some point she wasn’t alone.

Zoey stood behind acrowd all waiting to pick up their food, and her eyes were drawn to a copy oftheWashington Poston the abandoned table next to her. The headlineblaredREPUBLICANS CALL FOR SENATOR NEWMAN TO RESIGN.She didn’t spend alot of time dwelling on politics, but like everyone else in the country, she’dheard the name and couldn’t resist skimming the story while she waited.

Youthful and dashing,Steve Newman was a big deal in DC. Having soared to a governor’s seat in Ohioat the young age of thirty-three, he’d foregone a third term to take hisfather’s Senate seat when the elder Newman met an untimely death at the handsof a shooter at a mall in Columbus. The younger Newman had been pegged as aBill Clinton type, and as early as a month ago, his name had been floated as apotential standard bearer for the Democratic Party when President Garrett wasforced to retire in two years. His path to success was one of the most watchedspectacles in the country. And so was his demise.

Last week, a womancame forward, not to make a sexual assault or affair allegation as was oftenthe case for a popular politician, but to say she’d been a passenger in a carthat had plowed into a young woman one snowy night last year in downtownColumbus. This witness told the press the driver of the vehicle had been noneother than Senator Newman, and he’d driven from the scene without even checkingto see if the girl was okay. She died before help arrived.

Zoey shook her head.The woman might have lived if he’d stopped to call an ambulance. What had beenso worth hiding that he’d chosen to flee the scene rather than face theconsequences of his actions? He’d probably been drinking, she surmised, andlike an echo of her thoughts, her eyes caught the next few lines of text in thearticle. Senator Newman strongly denied that alcohol played a factor in theincident.

“Senator Newmandoesn’t drink, but that’s not the point. He was not responsible for this tragicdeath, and there is no credible evidence to support the allegation that hewas,” said Rook Daniels, spokesperson for the senator.

Zoey dropped thepaper back onto the table. She’d thought about Rook several times since theiraborted date, wondering what might have happened if she hadn’t been summonedaway, but she’d filed the missed opportunity under things best left undone. Thesight of Rook’s name scattered her neatly tucked feelings in several differentdirections—curiosity, longing, regret—but something about the news story naggedat the back of her mind. She picked up the paper again and skimmed the rest ofthe article as well as the sidebar, and when she had devoured every word, shewas certain the call Rook had taken the night they were at Meridian Park hadbeen about this case.

“Is everything okay?”

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