special in either home. I was one among many and I didn’t stand out in any way.”
Fungible. Interchangeable. Not unique or special. The words echoed in Steve’s head. They were Michelle’s own words, describing his attitude toward women. He abruptly sat up in bed. She’d felt that way as a little girl, as a child among too many other kids. No wonder viewing herself as a woman among too many other women rankled her so. He remembered what she’d said about preferring to be his worst date instead of just another indistinguishable one. Suddenly her previously incomprehensible statement made sense to him.
Steve was both astonished and a bit proud of the connection he’d made. He was actually beginning to understand Michelle! It was a first for him. If he’d had a dime for every time the charge of “you just don’t understand” had been hurled at him, he could retire as a wealthy man tomorrow.
“What’s the matter?” Michelle asked worriedly, sitting up in bed.
Steve realized that he’d bolted upright and remained that way. “Uh, nothing. Just a cramp.” He laid back down. “Leg cramp,” he improvised. “I get them sometimes.” “Do you want some aspirin?’ ’ she asked concernedly. “No, no, I’m fine now. Lie down, it’s okay.”
Michelle laid back down and snuggled into the goose-down thickness. “I almost forgot to compliment you on your excellent memory,” she said softly. “It takes my friends a long time to get everybody in my family straight and some never do.” She chuckled. “Ed gets so confused he-”
“Ed?” Steve interrupted. He tried and failed to identify the peculiar searing sensation tearing through him.
“Ed Dineen. You know, the state senator. My boss.”
He could hear the smile in her voice as she talked on and on about Ed Dineen. Ed was brilliant, honorable, and conscientious. Scrupulously honest and loyal. Witty, perceptive and sensitive. A wonderful public speaker.
Steve shifted restlessly in the bed. He’d never been jealous of anyone or anything in his entire life. There was no need, not with his towering self-confidence and unbroken chain of successes. But lying here listening to Michelle rave on about another man, he identified the choking, bitter feeling ripping through him as jealousy.
“Dineen’s married, isn’t he?” Steve asked sourly.
“Oh, yes,” Michelle said, still bubbling with enthusiasm. “His wife, Valerie, is just wonderful. And they have two adorable children, Teddy and Danielle. Valerie and Ed both went to Penn State, you know. That’s where they met. Ed was on the basketball team there. He’s still a rabid college basketball fan.”
Her enthusiastic endorsement of Valerie and the children helped a little. But Steve had known too many women in the political arena who devoted their lives to their bosses, living vicariously through them, viewing them through worshipful eyes. Even if those relationships weren’t sexual, the attachment was just as powerful. Maybe more so. As he well knew, sex could be conveniently distancing, but adoration was definitely personal.
“Sounds like your— job —is very important to you,” he said stiffly.
“Oh, yes, I love my work. It’s the most important thing in my life,” Michelle affirmed earnestly. “I’m fascinated with the way government works, the legislative process, the inner workings of the political system. Aren’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Steve admitted grudgingly.
“Being part of it means being able to make a difference. Every day is interesting, every day I learn something new and meet new people.”
“That’s certainly true.” Steve forgot his fit of pique as they talked politics, trading views and opinions late into the night.
It was a night of firsts for them both. The first time that Steve had ever spent a platonic night in a woman’s bed, the first time that Michelle had ever allowed a man to share her bed. When they finally fell asleep, it was nearly dawn.
They
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