Page 2 of Pursuit of Happiness

“Fine, I guess. I don’t think we changed any minds, but I feltlike they were listening at least.”

“How about Mitchell? Was she as rough as I’ve heard?”

“She played the part of a former prosecutor to a tee, but I feltlike she was actually listening.” Stevie toyed with mentioning their dinnerdate, but date was too strong a word, and she didn’t feel like giving him aplay-by-play of how it had come about. “Convincing her or anyone else thatoffenders have rights is an uphill battle, but I remain confident everyone willeventually see the light.”

“You’re such a glass half full kind of gal.” He pointed at thefile in her hand. “Which is exactly why I wanted to talk to you. I’vereassigned this case and it’s yours now. Defendant refused to talk to pretrialservices, so he’s sitting in a cell when, based on how he looks on paper, heshould be out on bond. I sent Santos to talk to him,” he said, referring toanother public defender in the office, “but the guy wouldn’t talk to himeither, and when I say wouldn’t talk to him, I mean would not utter a word.Judge continued the detention hearing to Monday afternoon.”

Stevie opened the file and scanned the scant information, notingthe client’s name was William Barkley. “It says here he works in IT for FolsomEnterprises. Shouldn’t he be able to afford an attorney of his own?”

“Worked for Folsom, past tense. He was fired because of thiscase, and his credit report doesn’t paint a pretty picture. The magistrate hasappointed us for now.”

“Any idea if he’s just stubborn or is there some competencyissue?”

Joe shrugged. “Opinions vary, but I don’t think we’re going toget very far on his case if we don’t make a good faith effort to check it out.I know you’re busy, but I need someone with experience to assess the situation.These new kids are killing me—too much energy and not enough savvy. Go see himMonday and let me know what you think.”

Stevie answered quickly to keep from having to hear his usuallament about the more inexperienced attorneys at the office. “I’ll look at thefile this weekend, and we’ll go from there.”

Joe gave her a curious look. “You calling it a day already?”

“After the grilling I just had, I think I deserve to leave beforeten o’clock on a Friday night for once.”

“Fair enough. You want to grab a beer? Some of us are headed toQuarry House.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to bow out tonight. Believe it or not Ihave plans.” The minute she spoke the words, she was sorry. The folks whoworked at the public defender’s office were a tight-knit group, and her peersknew she hadn’t been out on a date in forever. She could see Joe starting toform a question, and she beat him to the punch. “Not for public consumptionyet. Probably never. If there’s ever anything serious going on in my life, Ipromise you all will be the first to know.”

“Sure, yeah.” He play-punched her on the shoulder. “Have fun, youdeserve it.”

Stevie considered his words later as she walked from the Metrostop to her house in Maryland. She didn’t know about the deserving part. Shetook time from her demanding schedule to fit in a personal life now and then,but this wasn’t that. She was meeting a US senator to sway her to her side onan issue that had become politicized. A business meeting and nothing more.

Then why hadn’t she just stayed in the city instead of cominghome to change, and why was she exhilarated at the prospect of seeing Meredithagain? And when had she started thinking about her as Meredith instead ofSenator Mitchell?

She peeled off her suit and hung it back in the closet. Dressedonly in boy shorts and a tank, she wandered into the kitchen and debatedwhether or not to have a drink before she headed out to meet Senator Hotness.Opting to keep her wits about her, she fixed a glass of ice water and did amental inventory of everything she knew about the senator.

Meredith Mitchell was the youngest of four children, and had beenborn into a family full of political power players. Her father, the formergovernor of New York, served three consecutive terms before stepping down torun a nonprofit foundation whose stated goals were to create economicopportunities and inspire civic service. Her oldest brother was the currentgovernor of Massachusetts, and her other siblings, Michael and Jennifer, hadspent their lives working in politics, but out of all of them, Meredith was thegolden child. Two thirds of the way into her freshman term as senator, rumorsswirled that she might enter next year’s presidential race.

Stevie didn’t believe the rumors. She hated politics, but livingin DC, they were impossible to avoid, and even she knew that with the primariesstarting just a few months away, Meredith would have a lot of catching up to doif she entered the race now. The current slate of presidential candidates hadbeen working for months to lay the groundwork to hit the campaign trail full-onright after the first of the year, and filing deadlines for most states wereonly a couple of weeks away. Besides, the Democratic party already had theirdarling picked out, the senior senator from Texas, the feisty Senator ConnieArmstrong.

Stevie glanced at her phone and realized she’d drifted off. She’dhave to rush to get ready in time. She dressed quickly in jeans, a sweater, anda pair of boots, and grabbed a leather jacket on her way out the door. TheMetro ride was quick, and she spent the few minutes on the train wondering ifMeredith would show up and questioning whether she should’ve chosen a differentspot if she’d really wanted to discuss business. Of course someone likeMeredith would rather meet in a more traditional venue like the Old Ebbit wherepower plays were discussed on the daily. She was beginning to think this entireexercise was silly and she should go back home and dive into her work, when thetrain lurched to a halt, and the conductor announced her stop. Stevie shruggedoff her second guesses and stepped off the train.

A few minutes later, when she walked into The Saloon, she spottedMeredith, seated at the bar. She was pleasantly surprised Meredith had beatenher here, but she tried not to read too much into her early arrival. Steviestopped in the doorway, taking a moment to take in the juxtaposition ofMeredith, still dressed in her business suit, holding a beer and chatting withthe usually reticent bartender. Despite her formal clothes, she looked relaxed,casual, and utterly charming, and if Stevie really was here for a date, shecouldn’t have asked for more.

* * *

The minute she walked into The Saloon, Meredith felt a sense ofrelief. At the Old Ebbit, she would’ve been stopped at least five times on theway to her table by shout-outs ranging from attagirls to blunt requests forfavors, but here the patrons were more interested in the people at their owntables than whoever else might be inhabiting the same space.

She didn’t spot Stevie, so she took a seat at the bar and debatedwhether she should order a drink. Lord knew she needed one. She placed her cellphone on the bar, pulled out her credit card to start a tab, and smiled at thebartender who strode her way.

“You’re going to need to put that away,” he said in a gruffvoice, pointing at a sign on the wall.

She followed the direction of his gaze. No cell phones, No TV, Nostanding, No martinis, No American Express. She palmed her platinum card andshoved her phone into her purse. Obviously, this place didn’t cater topoliticians, but that was a good thing, right? Since her usual Hendricksmartini was also off the table, she decided to embrace the challenge and puther beverage fortune in this guy’s hands. “Give me whatever you drink.”

He grunted and stepped to the row of tabs, pulled a beer, andclunked the glass onto the bar. Meredith set a twenty-dollar bill next to theglass and took note of the bartender’s slight nod. Well, she’d gotten that partright at least.

She sipped her beer while keeping watch on the front door. Nomatter what Stevie had said about this being a chance to discuss the pendinglegislation, she’d agreed to take the meeting because Stevie intrigued her.Anyone else and she would’ve told them to schedule an appointment with herstaff. At exactly eight o’clock, the door opened and Stevie walked into thebar. She was no longer dressed in the sharp black suit she’d had on at thehearing, but the sportier look she was wearing now suited her like a secondskin. Meredith envied the casual comfort—she couldn’t remember the last timeshe’d appeared in public in anything but senator-drag.

“I see you found the place,” Stevie said with a grin. She wavedat the bartender and pointed to Meredith’s glass. “You like?”

“The beer’s amazing, but I’m a little surprised at your choice ofvenue.”

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