I shook his hand, and when he didn’t let go right away, I was glad. His skin was soft, but his grip was firm, and the feel of it sent tingles up my arm.
“I don’t know how thrilling it was for them,” he said, holding my gaze, “but I enjoyed being here.” The scent of his cologne drifted toward me as he released my hand.
His expression shifted as he said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Your student Marcie. When she asked about gay marriage, it seemed to be a very sensitive topic for her.”
“It is. She’s being raised by two men. Her mother left when she found out her husband, Marcie’s biological father, was gay.”
His eyes closed briefly. “I hope my answer didn’t sound too political.”
I laughed. “You’re a politician. Of course it did.”
He released a long breath and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
A little nervous, I looked down and gathered my papers from my desk so I could take them home to grade over the weekend.
“Ms. Washburn?”
Our eyes met, and he held my gaze. It was practically hypnotic, but thankfully I found my voice.
“Please, call me Lucy.”
“Lucy, may I ask you something else?”
I nodded, and before he spoke, his gaze flicked to my left hand, which was resting on my desk. Was he looking for a ring? I’d glanced at his ring finger when he spoke to my class, and noticed it was bare.
He smiled. “Would you like to have dinner with me one night?”
Before I could answer, a short man I’d never seen before stood in the doorway and cleared his throat.
“Ben, I’ll be right with you.” Drake’s curt tone didn’t faze the man, who took a step into my classroom. “So, dinner?”
Again, I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted.
“Senator, we have another engagement.” The man twisted his left wrist to look at his watch. He was definitely in a hurry.
Drake shot a glare his way and then looked to me for my answer.
Quickly, before being interrupted again, I replied, “I’d like that.”
“Great.” He handed me a business card. “Call that number?” He straightened in front of me, his gaze expectant.
“Now?”
“Yes, please.”
I reached into my purse for my cell phone and dialed the number. When his phone rang, he answered it, even though he was standing less than two feet away from me.
His eyes never left mine as he said, “Now you have my number and I have yours.” With my phone pressed to my ear, his deep voice came through the receiver and in person, all sexy in stereo. “I’ll call you.”
With that, he walked out the door followed by Ben, who glanced back at me as if he was trying to solve the Times crossword puzzle. Maybe it was just political paranoia that narrowed his beady eyes, but the man made me nervous.
Disconcerted over what had transpired in the last few minutes, I sat down at my desk and gathered the homework papers from my in-box so I could grade them. As I was arranging them neatly, I glanced to the door to see my friend and coworker Mason strolling in.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
I smiled. “The usual, grading papers and avoiding traffic.”
Mason and I became friends our sophomore year at James Mason University when I transferred in from Colorado, and that friendship deepened during our studies in the master’s program. We were elated when we both were offered positions at the same school.
Now Mason was my best friend, and he knew me better than anyone. He was my confidant, and I considered him family—my only family.
Making himself at home, he perched on the edge of my desk, casually tossing an apple from hand to hand as he grimaced at the pile of reports I needed to read.
“Damn! I’m so glad I’m a math teacher.” He shook his head before smiling at me. “So, I saw Mr. Politician strolling out of here. You should have seen all the women in the office drooling over the man when he picked up his visitor badge.”
“Really? They were drooling?” I shook my head in disbelief, although I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Jealous? Maybe.
Surprised? No.