Benched, page 20
“It’s a damn shame that these are our concerns, really,” said Penelope. “Democracy can be such a fucked-up political system.”
“Meaning?” Jamie asked.
“Well, meaning that the majority almost always wins. And sometimes the majority is a bunch of bigots.”
“Actually, that’s not quite right in this situation,” Jamie said. “The majority of Americans favor a non-discrimination bill. That’s why this whole thing is a head-scratcher—if congresspeople were really representing their constituents, they’d support this. But their funding sources are opposed. That’s where the real problem is.”
“Campaign finance reform, where are you when we need you?” Genevieve said.
They debated which congresspeople were vulnerable when it came to the next election cycle, and brainstormed some tactics for swaying legislators to their side before agreeing that they were somewhat out of their depth. They took out their phones and each e-mailed their organization’s legislative director, briefly explaining the situation and telling them to meet with each other in the next week or two.
After they paid the bill, Genevieve said good-bye and headed to the restroom before the cold walk back to her office. She’d just washed her hands when the door opened and Penelope entered and stood just inside. At the sight of Penelope’s chest rising and falling heavily, Genevieve’s heart rate doubled. She crossed slowly to Penelope, pushing her against the door and bringing their lips together. Jesus, it felt so good to crave someone and be able to act on it. Their lips and teeth and tongues demanded more and more of each other, and Penelope’s hands on her lower back drew their bodies even closer.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Penelope looked at her with hooded eyes.
“My place,” she said. “Tonight.”
Genevieve nodded. “I’ll bring dinner.”
“Screw food—I don’t care about food.”
“You’ll need your energy.”
Penelope gave her a shaky laugh. She gently pushed Genevieve away and ran her thumb around her lips, wiping off lipstick. “I’ll see you then,” she said.
Genevieve let her leave first, and when she was alone again in the bathroom, she clutched the edge of the sink and studied herself in the mirror. She didn’t look like the hot mess she felt, thank God.
Her whole body thrummed with anticipation, but her mind took an unexpected detour, and she thought of Tori. She reminded herself that they weren’t in a relationship anymore—she didn’t owe Tori anything.
But Tori would be devastated if she found out. And wouldn’t Genevieve be too, if the tables were turned and Tori suddenly had…well, had someone?
Dammit. In the dim lighting of a stupid restaurant bathroom, Genevieve finally admitted it to herself: she might be pissed at Tori, and they might not have figured out how to be in a relationship together, but she still loved her beyond measure. And she was really hoping Tori would get her head out of her ass and try to win her back.
Which was probably horribly unfair of her.
It was such an uncomfortable, unsettling thought that Genevieve stormed out of the bathroom. She walked to work without putting on her gloves or hat, enjoying the way the cold burned her skin.
What the hell was she doing?
* * *
The afternoon meeting went well, or at least that’s what Frank said as they left the conference room and headed toward Genevieve’s office. She wouldn’t really know since she’d barely heard a word anyone had said.
She narrowly avoided causing two accidents on her drive home, and when she dumped her coat and purse on her couch she paused a moment, then dumped herself there too. She growled in frustration, a pillow pulled over her face.
No doubt she wanted Penelope. But that didn’t make it a good idea. Penelope had made it clear to her that she was interested in sex and maybe something more. Sleeping with Penelope now, in light of her recent realization about Tori, would be more than unfair to Penelope.
Or would it? Did she really need to be completely over her ex in order to try to move on? Wasn’t finding someone new the best way to move on?
God, why was this so complicated? She could call Bethany, but she was pretty sure that conversation would go something like, “Penelope wants to sleep with you and you’re single? What the hell’s the holdup?”
She needed to get out of her own head. She turned on the TV and headed into the kitchen for wine. She filled a huge glass—she could take a cab to Penelope’s if she decided to go. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she savored the taste of an expensive pinot noir and closed her eyes. She heard Tori’s voice in her head, and she stood there, enjoying the warm caress of Tori’s rich alto.
“And that’s why I’ve worked with the mock-trial program ever since law school.”
She opened her eyes quickly and hurried into her living room, where Tori was on CNN, extolling the value of high school mock-trial programs. Dressed in a teal skirt suit, black blouse, and black pumps, she looked like a million bucks. Genevieve fixated on her long, delicate fingers and the way they moved as she gestured. They were bare, save for the ring on her right middle finger, the ring her father had given her mother on their wedding day, which she in turn left to Tori in her will. It was the first time Genevieve had really noticed how bare Tori’s left ring finger was, and she wondered what kind of ring Tori would like to wear there—a thought which compelled her to sit down.
How stupid was she being? In her most honest moments, she could admit that her anger about Heather and Crystal’s case was entirely irrational—even though she couldn’t figure out how to let go of it. God, viewing their relationship as a competition and keeping score of wins and losses felt terrible—she was losing on multiple fronts.
Looking back at the screen, she saw through Tori’s brilliant smile and upbeat inflection. Her eyes held that haunted look that meant she wasn’t sleeping. Shoulders slightly slouched, she reminded Genevieve of the way she looked after working well into the night, hunched over her laptop and numerous research binders. When she’d finally come to bed, Genevieve would lay her on her stomach, straddle her, and massage the tension away.
Her cell phone buzzed, and she read a text from Penelope:
Let me know when you’re on your way. Can’t wait to see you. All of you.
Genevieve paced, feeling like so much rested on what she did in the next hour. Sighing, she dialed Penelope’s number.
“Mm, I hope you’re calling to ask what I’m wearing. Because my answer will be very, very brief.”
Genevieve’s stomach clenched. Of course Penelope wasn’t going to make this easy for her.
“I’m sorry, Penelope, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Penelope sighed heavily. “Look, Genevieve, I like you. I’m attracted to you. But I don’t want to play these games, and if you can’t decide what you want, then I think we shouldn’t pursue this any further.”
Genevieve’s whole body slumped, and she wanted to protest. “I like you too, Penelope, but I’m still… Well, I’m not emotionally available, I guess.”
“I look forward to the day when I can meet Victoria Willoughby, so maybe I can understand the hold she has over you,” Penelope said with a hint of bitterness.
“I really am sorry, Penelope.”
“I know.” She hesitated. “I’ll see you on Friday for our next lunch meeting.”
Genevieve opened her mouth to respond, but Penelope hung up. Before she could feel the disappointment, she heard Tori’s voice again.
“Well, I’m sure many of these kids will go on to be lawyers, but many of them won’t. Mock Trial provides an opportunity to work on public speaking, critical thinking, collaboration, research, and writing. Students on mock-trial teams hone skills that they will use no matter what career they choose.”
“Justice Willoughby, thanks for taking the time to talk with us today,” the reporter said.
“It was my pleasure—thank you for having me,” Tori said with that smile that… Fuck. She loved Tori’s smile. Genevieve ran a shaky hand through her hair, and the camera cut to more “breaking news.”
Genevieve located her remote control and hit rewind; rewatching Tori’s interview probably wasn’t healthy, but neither were most of her decisions these days.
* * *
The following Friday, The Three Branches was crowded for lunch—evidently some lobbying firm was celebrating something. It took Genevieve a minute to locate the table where Jamie was seated, alone.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Genevieve Fornier, kisser of colleagues. Am I next?” he asked.
“Very funny, wise guy,” she said, taking off her coat and sitting down. “Besides, she’s not my colleague—not really. We don’t work for the same organization.”
“I suppose you’re technically right. So you’ve traded in Victoria for Penelope, huh? I think you came out ahead in that deal.”
Leave it to Jamie to say something flippant about a situation keeping her up at night. She rubbed her eyes, then put her hands firmly on the table. “Okay, since you’re asking. Tori and I aren’t together. Penelope and I aren’t together. And what you saw last week, well, that won’t be happening again.”
Jamie’s eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, why? You two have so much chemistry it makes me want to sleep with you. You’d be perfect together.”
“I suppose I don’t have to ask which of the two women I just mentioned you’re talking about.”
“Duh, Penelope,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“It’s not the right timing,” Genevieve said, hoping he’d drop it.
The look on his face said he saw right through her, but he moved on. “Our legislative directors are meeting on Monday to discuss federal non-discrimination. Do you think we should be there too?”
“Nah, let’s let them get the ball rolling, and they can bring us up to speed in a couple of weeks.”
The waiter came to take their order, and Genevieve looked at the empty seat at their table. “Let’s wait a few more minutes,” she said. “We’re expecting someone else.”
The waiter left and Jamie whispered, “Yeah, unless she’s too brokenhearted to be in the same room as you. That’s what you get for messing around with collaborators.”
“Sorry I’m late, everyone,” Penelope said, breathless. “What did I miss?”
Jamie threw Genevieve an inscrutable look. “Nothing of importance, dear. And we waited for you to order.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. Listen, I was hoping we could brainstorm some talking points for the media blitz we’re doing about the parentage case.”
So this was how Penelope was going to play it—all business. That seemed the mature thing to do, after all.
As they noshed on burgers and fries and considered other strategies for Penelope’s arguments, Genevieve found it easier and easier to make eye contact with her. Twinges of regret began to prickle in the back of Genevieve’s mind: Penelope’s sharp wit and discerning intellect drew her in, just like Tori’s always had. But more than that, Penelope radiated a warmth and ease that was unique to her.
Still, Penelope seemed to have flipped some kind of switch in her attitude toward Genevieve; the electricity between them had fizzed out. Positive that sexual tension that profound couldn’t just disappear, Genevieve knew it lurked just under the surface. But if their path forward led to friendship and not romance, she vowed to do her part to keep it buried too.
Their lunch meeting over, they all walked out together before moving in different directions toward their respective offices. Genevieve glanced over her shoulder as people on their way to important places hurried to and fro between her and Penelope. With a bittersweet smile, Penelope turned and walked away.
Chapter 24
The following Friday morning, Genevieve sat in her office at HER and opened her calendar. Miraculously, the afternoon was free of any meetings. She’d tasked one of her team members to fly to Michigan that morning to meet with Dr. Carson, whom they’d decided to hire, and check in on Amelia. The only thing on her schedule for the whole day was her lunch meeting with Jamie and Penelope.
She wasn’t really up for seeing Penelope, or enduring Jamie’s odd blend of irreverence and earnestness, or any of it. Hoping they felt the same way, she composed an e-mail.
Hi Jamie and Penelope,
All my cases are well in hand, our legislative directors have been strategizing a plan for the non-discrimination bill, and it’s been a long week. I’m not sure we need to meet today. Let me know what you think.
GF
The cup of coffee she’d made herself at home that morning didn’t get the job done, so she dragged her feet to the break room. By the time she returned to her desk, both Jamie and Penelope had written back agreeing to cancel that day’s lunch; she deleted it from her calendar.
Part one of her plan having fallen into place, she grabbed her cell and hit speed dial number two.
“G-Spot! Isn’t it a beautiful day? I just love Fridays,” Bethany gushed.
“You’re in a good mood.”
“What’s not to be in a good mood about? It doesn’t feel like a blizzard outside, I’m wearing a new pair of cowboy boots for casual Friday, and…I have a date this weekend!”
“Well, hot damn, Bethie! I’m happy for you,” Genevieve said.
“You know what, sweet cheeks? I’m happy for me, too!”
“With all this happiness, I think you and I need to celebrate. Play hooky with me today.”
“Hmm, let me check my schedule. I have a meeting at two, but I’ll cancel it. One sec.”
Sounds of her long nails typing away clicked through the phone. “Done! Okay, what are we doing?”
“I hadn’t gotten that far,” Genevieve admitted. Channeling her inner Ferris Bueller, she leaned back in her desk chair and swiveled, hoping for some inspiration.
“Spa day? Or, we could go sit in the balcony of the House of Representatives and throw food at people we don’t like.”
“Spa day sounds less likely to get us arrested.”
“I know just the place, and I’m scheduling us for mani/pedis, facials, and a couples’ massage.”
“Bethie, what makes it a couples’ massage?”
“Oh, nothing that scandalous. We’re just in the same room, is all.”
Genevieve raised her eyebrows. “So, we’ll be pretty much naked together?”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, babycakes.”
Seen before? When? Oh, their trip to Cancun.
“Bethany, you could hear the shower water running, and you knew the curtain was clear.”
“Well, I had to pee!”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing at that ridiculous logic. “There was another bathroom, sweet cheeks,” she said, in her best Bethany voice.
“Oh well, I guess I forgot about that. Anyway, what’s the big deal?”
What, indeed. “Absolutely nothing. This all sounds perfect. I’ll make us an early lunch reservation so we can eat first.”
“Peachy! Text me the details.”
Genevieve poked around online until she found a hot lunch spot called Diplomacy. It reminded her of Penelope. Well, good—going there with Bethany would be exactly what she needed to get over whatever she still felt whenever she thought about Penelope. Disappointment? Lust? Guilt?
After gathering her coat and bag, along with some paperwork she’d need to look at over the weekend, she closed her office door and walked to Frank’s desk.
She pointed to his headset. “Are you on the phone?”
He shook his head. “I just leave this on because it’s easier.”
“Makes sense. Hey, I’m going to take the day off. I’m powering down my phone, and I won’t be on e-mail either. If there’s an emergency—”
“Genevieve, we’re not exactly trauma surgeons. There won’t be any kind of emergency worth interrupting whatever it is you have planned with Bethany.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Oh!” He looked embarrassed. “I was just guessing. Since you cancelled lunch with Penelope.”
He didn’t add Jamie’s name—instead he gave her a knowing look that clearly said he knew way more about her personal life than she’d ever imagined. Well, it was hard to fault him—he probably knew more about her comings and goings than anyone else.
“Go, Genevieve. Have some fun. You deserve it.”
She smiled at him, and while she rode the elevator to the ground floor, she located a number for HER’s courier service and requested they deliver a bottle of very nice wine to Frank by mid-afternoon, making sure they charged her personal credit card number.
With ninety minutes before their lunch reservation, she hailed a cab to DC’s shopping district. It wouldn’t be fair for Bethany to be the only one in new boots. Besides, shoe shopping served her better than therapy.
After browsing to gather her options, she tried on a handful and selected a pair of gray knee-highs that worked well with the skinny jeans and red blouse she wore that day. Her purchase complete, she wandered around other stores for a while, before emerging into the late morning sun, which was almost warm. She slid sunglasses on and walked to the end of the block to hail a cab. As she stood on the corner, a woman probably ten years younger than her walked past, turned around and took her sunglasses off, and blatantly checked her out. It was so obvious that Genevieve almost laughed, and when the woman walked away, she knew she had a stupid, self-satisfied grin on her face. Maybe it was the boots or maybe it was something else. Maybe, despite everything, she still had it.
* * *
When she joined Bethany at the lunch table, she got kisses on both cheeks and a martini already waiting for her. Bethany ordered their food, then launched into a lengthy discussion about the new ownership of the Dallas Cowboys. Genevieve took the opportunity to look around the restaurant, which was chic and not very crowded. Evidently, most people in DC had better things to do than eat lunch at eleven. Well, too bad for them. She sipped her martini and basked in not being at work.
