Page 35 of Capitally Engaged

“Michelle’s the new meteorologist for KUSN, Channel Four” Caitlin said to me quietly, filling in context as Penny delivered a bottle of champagne and a few carafes of juice, plus glasses of water all around.

Michelle continued, champagne flute in the air. “My forecasts aren’t that different from how some of the guys from Capital Weather Gang give them, but I guess because I’m a woman, people are viewing me as uptight and elitist.”

I snorted. “Throw a stone in this town and you’ll hit an elitist.” And took a sip of my own drink. Champagne with just a splash of juice, the perfect brunch companion.

She raised her glass toward me. “That’s part of why I took the job in this market. I figured I could deliver a unique brand of forecasting and it would fit here. But I guess not.” She slumped back in her chair and emptied her glass. “Oh well, that’s Monday’s problem. What’s up with you ladies?”

Caitlin talked about the case her firm had settled, and Laurel filled her in on some of the senator’s latest antics. I chimed in here and there, but was content to take in the menu and enjoy the sunshine.

“But Jax here has fiancé problems, don’t you, Jax?”

I snapped my head up and glared at Laurel, my eyes narrowing as she took in my delighted face. “No, I don’t.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Caitlin chimed in as Laurel cackled. I debated whether I was too hungry to actually get up and leave right now, but then Penny arrived to take our food orders. I decided it might not be the worst thing in the world to get some outside perspective on the thoughts pinging around my brain.

“I’ll have the waffles and a side of eggs, please. No cheese.” I handed Penny my menu and poured myself a fresh drink from the bottle she delivered moments ago.

“So, Michelle. I know we just met, but can you keep a secret?”

Laurel clapped, bouncing in her seat as her cousin looked at me, confused.

“Is the secret that you’re having fiancé problems? But yes, I can. A weather person is only as good as their trustworthy reputation.” Michelle rolled her eyes at herself, letting me know she didn’t take herself too seriously, but was game to keep my confidences.

“So, my engagement is fake,” I started.

“But her lust is very real,” Laurel finished.

“That’s not quite how I was going to phrase it, but thank you.”

“And how does he—oh, sorry,” Michelle corrected herself. “Or she, or they, I shouldn’t assume, feel about you?”

I laughed. “Sorry, I just remembered the last woman I dated—before Preston—broke up with me because I wasn’t marriage material, but here I am, with a fiancé. Take that, Britney!” I swigged more of my drink before reaching for the glass of waterPenny smartly brought for each of us. I should slow down until after I ate something. “I’m not really sure how he feels. He did refer to our kiss at the Library of Congress as ‘some kiss.’”

Laurel gasped. “Iknewsomething was up with him when he couldn’t find you. Oh man, this is good. I’ve never seen Preston lose his head over a woman before. Tell me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell. We hid from my nemesis underneath the stairs, made out a little, and got interrupted by a poorly timed elevator door opening and my digestive system.”

“Well, did you talk about it afterward?” Caitlin asked, leaning forward, clearly as invested as everyone else at the table.

“We did. I said I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to be physical outside of instances where it was necessary to keep up appearances.”

“And did he agree?” Michelle asked, eyeing me appraisingly.

“I think so?” I thought back to the conversation. “At the very least, he didn’t argue with me.”

We paused our conversation so the runner could deliver our plates.

“Well, if putting his hand on your ass in a public park before noon on a Saturday is keeping up appearances, then I have greatly underestimated Preston’s game,” Laurel said, digging into her breakfast scramble.

“His thumb might have sort of been inside my pants too,” I muttered, concentrating on pouring syrup in each square of my waffle until Laurel gasped and dropped her silverware on the plate.

“Preston Brandt,” she said, applauding lightly. “Who knew you had it in you?”

“Okay, while a bit extreme for appearance’s sake, that doesn’t actually tell us anything,” Caitlin said, her lawyer voice firmly in place. “Jax, do youwantPreston?”

I looked at each woman in turn, and voiced to them the truth I had been trying to hide from myself. “I do,” I nodded. “I want to climb him like a tree.”

“Ha!” Michelle exclaimed, her hand coming down on the table, causing a few people to look our way. She lowered her voice. “Laurel’s right. We are going to be great friends. Climb him like a tree. I’m going to use that.” She pulled out her phone.

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