~JOSH'S POV~
Damn, I'm tired. I'm tired as hell, but all is right in my world
because Donnatella Moss is sitting here with me on the bus. We're in
the back row. She recently claimed it as our territory. She said
there's more room back here to work. She was, of course, right.
There's more room to spread out when we're working, and more room to
spread out when we're not. We're heading to the convention. You can
feel the tension on this bus. It's nearly suffocating. Toby and I
have pretty much been basketcases all week. I've lost count how many
speeches he and Sam have written at this point. There's a speech for
every scenario at this point, I think.
Donna's sitting with her back up against the window, and I'm sitting
with mine up against the bathroom.
She twisted her ankle right before we got on the bus, the same one
she injured a few weeks ago. The bus was parked in a field, and I
guess there was a hole someplace, and so now it's sore. So she
propped her injured ankle up on the seat when we got on the bus.
About half an hour ago, we hit a big bump and she winced as her ankle
bounced off the seat. I've been rubbing it for her ever since. A
couple of minutes ago, it occurred to me that it might look a little
suspicious to others. I mean, Leo doesn't rub Margaret's injured
appendages.
Oh wait...ick...now I'm stuck with that mental image.
I've got my head leaning up against the seat as I'm looking at her.
We've been chatting away for the last two hours, and it's just
occurred to me that I haven't been this happy in the presence of a
woman for ages. Donna was right. Even as boss and assistant, we're a
better boyfriend and girlfriend to each other than our past exes ever
were. That's not lost on me.
We're having a perfectly pleasant conversation and she's getting
quite the ankle massage when Mandy comes back. I try to think back
over the events of the day to determine what I might be being
punished for right now.
"Oh how sweet, Joshua. You have your playmate back."
Mandy always has a way of talking to me like I'm a child. I don't
know why she thinks I'd find that attractive. Maybe I'm not supposed
to. But women like Mandy like to be in control. I promise you this
now. No woman will EVER control me. I refuse to be that whipped guy.
Everyone knows one. I won't be him.
"Donna's been back for a while now." I reply with a glance in Donna's
direction. She's found something fascinating in the pattern of the
seat fabric.
"Well, I've been away for a while."
"Well, thank GOD you're back in time for the convention." I snark and
Mandy ignores it.
"I'm really sorry about your father, Josh." she says. I HATE when she
pulls crap like this. She gets all nasty to me, and then throws in
something that makes me think she cares. Moments like this is why I
went out with her for as long as I did. But don't worry, she'll get
back to being nasty in a minute.
"Thanks."
"This is quite the fetching picture." Mandy notes looking pointedly
at Donna's ankle where my hands have not ceased their massaging.
See? What did I tell you? Once the sheep's clothing is shed, it's
hard for the wolf to hide.
"Was there something you actually needed, Mandy?" I ask.
"It can wait until we're alone." she shrugs. What the hell? And where
did Donna's foot go? She's drawn her legs up tightly to her chest. I
look from her up to Mandy, Mandy's looking at Donna with quite the
condescending stare. It should be noted that Mandy and I broke up
before Donna joined the campaign. But Mandy has never failed to say
or do something to try to give Donna a different impression.
"Well, you can tell me now, or you can tell me tomorrow. But when WE
get back to the hotel, we're just crashing." I reply with a little
wave of my hand between me and Donna.
Take that, Mandy. And yes, I'm aware that I just made it sound like
Donna and I would be crashing together. I meant to do that. Now Mandy
can know what it's like to wonder about what's really going on. Mandy
looks a little taken aback by that comment. Good.
"Well then, I guess this conversation is over." she says dryly.
"You should go now before someone drops a house on you." I say.
"That was uncalled for." she snaps.
"No. I don't think it was." I reply. What? Did you think it was
mean? A glance over in Donna's direction tells me that SHE didn't
think it was mean. I was looking out for Mandy there. I would
imagine that a house falling on someone would hurt.
She turns around and starts to huff away, but that's not easy to do
on a moving bus. We take a particularly quick curve and she loses her
footing and falls into the armrest of the seat next to her. Ouch.
That'll leave a big, ugly bruise.
I look back at Donna, who is now looking everywhere but me. Mandy has
successfully unnerved her. "You do remember that part of your job is
to shield me from people who want too much of my time, right?" I say.
She nods and looks away. "So, any time at all with Mandy would be too
much of my time. If I find myself in the unfortunate situation to be
alone with her, I'm considering it a direct dereliction of your
duties."
"Is that a fact?" she challenges, but she's got a hint of a smile now.
"That is a fact."
She smiles at me and I know I'm grinning back like an idiot. I can't
help it. She's got a great smile. And the effect it's got on me is
like nothing I've ever experienced before. Every time she smiles at
me, she stops my heart. She can get me to cave on something pretty
easily when she smiles at me. It's dangerous.
"Now I'll remember what to do when I think you're in need of a
punishment." she snarks.
"I can think of other forms of punishment." I shoot back.
"Pervert."
"I'll have you know, Donnatella, that I wasn't thinking that way."
"Liar."
Okay, so I was. Come on. Donna's sitting there talking about
punishment. How the hell was I NOT going to think like that? But she
apparently doesn't really care, because guess who's ankle is back in
my lap.
"So." she says.
"So."
"What's the convention going to be like?"
"Utter chaos."
"Really?" her eyes go wide and I nod. "Like how?"
"Like me, Toby, and Leo spending three days in a constant state of
nutty." I reply. "Three days of no sleep, next to nothing to eat, and
constantly trying to peel us off the ceiling."
What? I'm not being dramatic. It's true.
"Well," she says. "I think we both know I'm not going to let THAT
fly."
"You're not going to be able to stop it." I smirk.
"Wanna make a bet?" she challenges.
"Yeah."
"Done."
"Wait." I say. "What are we betting on?"
"That I get you to eat, sleep, and calm down during the convention."
she announces boldly.
"Yeah, all right. Good luck with that."
"You'll see." She says softly. She gives me that slow, lazy smile of
hers that usually ends up with me saying something outrageously
complimentary.
"Well, I guess if anyone can do it, you can." See what I mean? What
the hell was that? "Are you about done conquering my life yet?"
"Almost. Do you think we're going to win?"
"I do."
"I thought we were the long shot. I thought we had a lowest delegate
count." she says.
"We do." I assure. "But we've got secret weapons."
"Really? Like what?" she challenges.
"We've got an actual candidate with a vision, Donna. The Governor's
going to stand up at that podium to address the convention the first
time, and Toby and Sam are going to put his vision into words that
are going to blow the doors off the place."
She smiles at me again and I can feel the outrageous compliment
brewing again.
"What are the other weapons?"
"You." See, there it is. She loses her smile a bit and cocks her head
to the side. It's adorable really. "If you win our bet and actually
keep me calm and focused, I'll hit that convention so hard the
delegates' heads will spin."
She smiles bigger and holds my gaze. We had these moments a lot
before she left, and one or two over the phone while she was gone,
and a bunch after she came back, and I lost count of how many we had
in Connecticut. I tried not to think about it. I tried not to miss
her as much as I did when she was gone. I tried to tell myself that
it was because she actually DID turn out to be a valuable assistant,
but ultimately I realized it was also because she turned out to be a
valuable friend. She gets me. I don't know how in such a short amount
of time, but she does. And she reads me well. She knows when to push
and when not to. She knows when to joke and when not to. She knows
when I'm about to unspool.
The almost kiss we had the night she came back to the campaign
spawned many, many dreams, which were only compounded by her coming
home with me when my father died. What assistant on the planet does
stuff like this? I've gotten an awful lot of looks since then. And my
mother....forget about it. She's been relentless. I've haven't
brought a woman home to meet them, since....um, I can't remember who
the last person was that I brought home. It was probably high school,
quite honestly. In my defense, *I* didn't bring Donna home with me,
she brought herself. But that was only because I couldn't ask her
myself.
Donna says that there's a reason people come into our lives. There's
something we can learn from everyone. I thought she was nuts at
first, young, not yet jaded by the way the world really is. But when
she stepped in front of me before I boarded the plane and she had a
suitcase with her, damn if I didn't think she was right. The exact
reason she's come into my life, I don't know, but I'm glad she is.
Maybe it's yet to be revealed. But she HAS taught me something. She's
taught me that it's okay to have compassion for others and show it.
It's okay to cry for someone you hardly knew, for no other reason
than someone you care about loved them.
I try not to think about this connection we have. It's really weird.
I've never felt this way with anyone. Ever. In my life. I try not to
think about it. But pretty soon, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to
think about anything else.
<><><><><><><><><><><>
My cell phone rings as soon as I get into my room at the hotel. I'm
supposed to share with Sam, but he hasn't made his way up here yet. I
automatically check that the room has a door that connects to the one
next to us, which is Donna's, and unfortunately, CJ's. I look at the
caller i.d. on my phone. It's my mother.
"Hi, mom. What's up?" I greet.
"How are you, Joshua?" my mother asks.
"Good. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I don't know." I reply. "This is not usually a normal phone time for
us." I usually talk to my mom Thursdays and Sunday nights. I don't
know why those days. She seems to have picked them.
"Oh. Is it a bad time?"
"No. I just got to the hotel."
"How's Donna?" My mother loves Donna. I doubt that surprises you.
"She's good."
"Things are going well with you guys?"
"What does THAT mean?"
"Work."
Okay. Maybe I was a little defensive there.
"Yeah."
There's a pause on the other end of the line. There was a purpose for
this call that she's not bringing to light yet.
"Mom, what's wrong? Something's wrong."
"Nothing, honey. I'm just...bored." she says.
"Bored?"
"I find myself with nothing to do."
"Watch t.v."
"There's nothing on."
"Are you reading any books?"
"Yeah, but it's hard to get into it. It's too quiet."
Oh, I see. She misses my dad.
"Well, what happened to cousin Muriel? Did she leave?"
"Yeah." my mom sighs. "She left a few days ago."
Sam chooses that moment to enter the room, and I see Donna wandering
along behind him.
"Want me to yell at you for a little while, mom?" I smirk and sit
down on the bed, then lay back on the pillows. I hear Sam whisper
that he's going down to dinner, but Donna lingers behind. As soon as
she heard me say `mom', I figured she would. She likes my mom as much
as my mom likes her. It's scary, I tell you.
"Your father didn't `yell' at me, Joshua." she counters defensively.
"No, but he bellowed for you around the house." I retort. Donna
laughs. She's drawing comparisons, I think.
"Who's there?" my mom asks.
"Donna just came in. I think she wants to go get dinner."
"Oh honey," My mom says. "I don't want to keep you from eating."
"Donna will never let that happen." I reply immediately before I have
a chance to bite it back.
"Really? And why is that, Joshua? It's not as if it's her job to keep
you fed."
"I don't know. You'll have to ask her."
Donna picks up the room service menu, gives it a little wave, and
drops it on my chest. She wants me to pick out what I want to
eat. "I'm going to go get drinks." she whispers before disappearing
out of the room. Eating together seems to be a thing with us. She
could go down with everybody else, but she's staying here with me.
Funny thing is, if she were on the phone with her parents right now,
I'd wait around for her, too. It's weird.
"Maybe I will." my mom challenges.
"Well, you can't now. She just went to go find us drinks. She's going
to order room service." Not that I think this will hold my mother at
bay long. I know my mom calls sometimes specifically to talk to Donna.
"They won't bring you drinks?"
"She's probably looking for beer."
"Ah." my mother says. "But she's not there now?"
"No." Here it comes, the latest round in what I've come to know
as "the Donna talk."
"I was surprised when you brought her home with you for your father's
funeral."
"We're close, mom. She makes me laugh. And she brought herself home
with me. It was a conspiracy between her, Sam, and Leo."
"Assign her to someone else."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you'll never get past the boss thing on your own."
"I can't assign her to someone else."
"Why?"
"Mom." I say again. "Okay. If I do that, I can't ensure her a place
in the new administration. If she stays with me, I can push for her
to stay with me at the White House. She doesn't have a college
degree, but she's incredibly intelligent and she'll be able to handle
the job as my assistant with her eyes closed. A job, by the way,
that's going to come with a lot of respect in that town. She'll be
interacting with Senators and Congressmen on a daily basis. It'll
open a lot more doors for her; some random secretarial job in human
resources will not. All that will do is pay the rent."
"Oh, Josh." my mother says softly. "If you love her so much, assign
her to someone else and marry her."
WHOA!!
"Mom!" I yelp.
"You should have heard yourself right then. You're giving up your
happiness with her to make sure she's taken care of. That's the most
romantic thing I ever heard of in my life. You don't think she'll be
taken care of as your wife?"
"Okay. Why I'm about to indulge in this conversation, I have no idea,
but you're not to read anything into this. This is purely
hypothetical."
"Whatever you say, dear." I can see the grin on my mother's face from
here.
"I'm going to be working 14 hour days at the White House, when would
I see ANY wife? That's first of all. Secondly, we've known each other
for, like, four months. You don't think that's moving a little fast?"
"Not if it's right, which it is."
"You know what else makes it right, mom? If the woman feels the same
way." Well, that was just stupid to say to my mother. I just
confirmed for her that I have feelings for Donna that are more than
friendship. THAT was a bad move.
"She does." My mother instantly replied.
"How the hell do you know?"
"I talk to her."
"And she actually TOLD you this?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
"A mother knows."
"Nice try, Kreskin."
"It's true. She uses the same tone of voice to talk about you that I
do."
"That's actually creepy."
"No, it's love."
"Don't say that word." I say as Donna reenters the room carrying
multiple bottles of beer. I didn't hear the door open. I wonder how
much of this conversation she's heard. She doesn't look any
different, so maybe none of it. I point out to her what I want on the
menu, she puts an open beer next to me on the table, and she picks up
the hotel phone.
"She's back?" my mom says when she hears Donna in the background.
"Yeah."
"I guess this conversation is over."
"That part of it anyway."
"I should let you go, dear." Yeah, because that wasn't too obvious or
anything.
"Kay."
"Say hello to Donna for me."
"I will."
"Night, Joshua."
"Night, mom."
I snap my phone shut and look up at Donna as she hangs up the
phone. "Remind me to call my mom sometime tomorrow."
"Sure. Everything okay?"
"She's lonely." Donna nods and drops down next to me on the bed. "She
says hi."
"Your mom's so nice, Josh. Let me talk to her for a few minutes when
you call her tomorrow."
"Okay." I sigh, because I'm an idiot and a glutton for punishment.
We lay there for a moment not speaking. What the hell am I doing in a
bed with Donna? Yeah, okay, so this is a campaign, and things are...a
little less strict. Of course, we're fully clothed, and laying on top
of the covers, so really all we're doing is laying here on the same
bed. But last time we ended up lying on the same bed...
I chuckle as a thought occurs to me.
"What?" Donna asks.
"Our absence at dinner is going to make Mandy freak."
"That's YOUR fault, Josh." Donna replies, but after a second she
laughs at the thought, too.
"I can't help it; she had it coming." I defend.
"You're really egging her on, you know." she replies. "She could open
her big mouth down there about what you said, and with us missing, it
could raise some speculation."
"I don't care." I say.
"You should."
"Well, I don't. There are worse things I can be accused of than
getting it on with a beautiful woman."
She pauses for a second. I think I said too much. My mouth doesn't
always consult my brain before speaking.
"Not in politics." she says softly. I turn my head to look at her.
She must have turned her head on that last line there, because we are
now nose-to-nose and the air around us is charged with
energy. "Politics is perception."
"Politics is leading."
"Which you can't do if you're involved in a scandal."
I smile at her. "I don't have enough clout to be involved in a
scandal."
"You will when we get to the White House."
"I don't care." I say again. We haven't broken eye contact yet. Donna
and I are about how we communicate without words. Our mouths say
things because they have to. Our eyes don't have to lie. And hers
aren't. My mom was right, she does feel the same way.
Mandy was my last actual girlfriend. She didn't look at me the way
Donna looks at me. Before Mandy, it was years of a couple of dates
here and there; one night stands, that kind of thing. I don't know
what to do in relationships. I'm a workaholic. I don't have time for
a relationship. Campaign flings, sure. Relationships, not so much. I
don't want Donna to be a campaign fling though. You have campaign
flings with people you don't really expect to ever see again. In four
months, this woman has made herself invaluable to my world.
And I really think I'm going to kiss her now.
I shouldn't. I mean I REALLY shouldn't. I should stop it, but I
can't. She's pulling me in by her tractor beam. I'm a fish that can't
get off the line, and other powerless things.
It should be noted she's slowly moving towards me, too. We're looking
at each other's lips, it's a mutual thing.
And then it happens.
Our lips finally touch. Did you know your lips are directly connected
by nerves to your toes? I swear to God. I mean, they must be. How
else did that shock travel right down my body?
I bring my hand up to her cheek as we deepen the kiss together. She
takes my touch as an invitation and rolls above me. My other arm
snakes around her waist and she's got one hand on my hip, rubbing
small circles and bringing this amazing moment dangerously close to
out of control. It's not until I feel her bare flesh under my
fingers that I realize my hand has moved underneath her shirt to her
back. Her hand is moving achingly slow to the right.
I roll us back over because if she goes where she was headed, I'm
done for. My whole body tingles and I have to ask myself if this is
the first time I've ever kissed a woman. I mean, I was that nervous,
but I'm losing myself in her lips. There's a familiar scent to her
that I can't quite put my finger on. I break apart to move to her
neck and she softly whispers my name. That stops me for a second
before I continue because I don't think anyone's ever done that
before. She's actually enjoying herself over here, and the kissing
isn't just a means to get to sex.
Which it isn't at the moment.
She's intoxicating, and I'm like a teenager sneaking their first
drink. She's so much more younger than me, and I'm starting to think
that's going to be a VERY good thing. She's moved to my neck now, and
in case you're wondering, your neck is directly connected to your
stomach. Her name falls softly from my lips like mine did from hers,
and she smiles at me before returning to my lips.
I know I just made a tactical error there, but at the moment I don't
care. She now knows that she's got a power over me. Maybe she will be
able to calm me down during this convention. This is not a bad way to
spend the downtime, you know? My hand snakes further up her stomach.
Shit!
I hear the door open and Sam's voice.
"Ah, I was wondering what they were doing about dinner." He says, to
what I'm assuming is the room service guy. Donna flies out from under
me with amazing speed, and I scramble around to lay on my stomach at
the other end of the bed. I have to hide this raging erection from
Sam. Donna quickly straightens out her shirt and casually meets Sam
at the door. And I'm laying here wondering how many hotel broom
closets I saw on the way in because this sharing a room thing doesn't
seem to be working out too well for us.
The hotel worker wheels the cart in. I toss Donna my wallet to tip
the guy because...well, I'm not getting up just yet. If Sam finds
anything strange about Donna placing my dinner directly in front of
me and me eating propped up on my elbows for the time being, he
doesn't show it.
Sam's chatting aimlessly about things people were talking about
downstairs and other random campaign related stuff. Donna's sitting
in the chair at the table on the other side of the room. Her gaze
meets mine, and I'm trapped again. I can feel the charged air between
us. I wonder if Sam can.
Our eyes don't lie. We communicate more silently than we do verbally.
She's not sorry that happened; I'm not sorry that happened, despite
what our words might say later. I wonder if my eyes are conveying to
her the one thing my voice can't.