Page 89 of Walking Wounded

Right. Because Matt’s had death threats.

Hal touches him, briefly, a hand at the small of his back. “Come on, you can ride up front with me.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll sit back here and do my best Kim K impression,” Matt deadpans.

~*~

“Is it always like this?” Luke asks, quietly.

In back, Matt conducts his third phone call of the trip so far. It isn’t even nine a.m.

“Yeah,” Hal says, slowing to take the next right. “He turns the phone off when he gets home, but during working hours, it’s crazy.”

In the back, Matt says, “And I appreciate that, Brian, I do, but the people of Virginia don’t want me to vote ‘yes’ on that amendment…Well, because it amends the constitution…I do hear your point. I hear it quite well, but…”

“Senator Maxwell,” Hal explains quietly. “He’s being a serious pain in the ass.”

The next time Luke wants to complain about his job, he thinks he’ll hold his tongue.

Matt ends the phone call with a sigh. “Don’t ever run for public office,” he advises.

Luke isn’t planning on it.

Traffic worsens the closer they get to their destination, both vehicular and foot. The crowd of pedestrians are less hipster more professional, suits and wool coats and lanyards with shining ID badges swinging from them.

Luke feels another nervous thrill ripple through his stomach. He doesn’t follow politics, doesn’t want anything to do with all the mud-slinging and congress-bribing, to be honest, but he’s as excited as a schoolboy on a field trip right now.

A massive white building appears through a break in the trees and traffic lights.

“There she is,” Matt says, leaning forward in the backseat. “Home away from home.”

~*~

Matt leads them through the rotunda of the Russell Senate Office Building, already smiling, just so he can see Luke’s reaction. And Luke, for all that he knows he’s jaded, can’t help the actual jaw-drop that occurs.

It’s a soaring feat of marble, so much marble, pearly and glinting in the morning sun that pours in through all the high windows. Footsteps and voices echo and get caught up against the high ceiling, magnified into a strange white noise that sounds like rushing water.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, because what else is there to say?

Matt laughs. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“Come on.” Hal puts a hand on Luke’s shoulder and steers him forward, gets him walking next to Matt so he can follow along behind them. A sheepdog with his flock.

They pass senators and aides and a whole assortment of men and women, little knots of people discussing things in low tones as they walk. They take an elevator up to the second floor, and the hall is narrower, the ceiling lower.

Matt’s office reminds Luke of the library at the townhouse. The door leads straight into a small sitting area with leather sofas and chairs, a rug, coffee table and bookshelves. A water cooler sits in the corner; there’s a Keurig on a folding table beside it, and a carousel of K-Cups. The desk sits in the window, flanked by a US flag on one side, and the Virginia flag on the other. It’s all functional and handsome, but not glamorous.

“Poor Hal just ends up sitting around,” Matt says as he goes to the desk and pulls the chair out.

“Sometimes I do crosswords,” Hal says. He unbuttons his jacket and sits on one of the sofas, perched rather than relaxed.

“I keep saying he doesn’t need to be in the office with me,” Matt says. “Not that I don’t appreciate your company, Hal. It just…” He shrugs and sighs. “It starts to make a guy feel helpless.” And Matt, with his big shoulders and square jaw, isn’t a man used to feeling that way.

“Hey, I get paid to be here,” Hal says, smiling, “so I’m gonna be here. I look at it as my patriotic duty: I’m not smart enough to make the country a better place, but I look after one of the guys who is.”

Matt ducks his head, clearly embarrassed. He drags a spare chair up to his desk and settles into his own. “Come on, Luke, and I’ll show you a day in the life.”

~*~

---