Sex and the Capital Ch. 09

"Morning Senator," Deb said, "Did you have a good weekend at home?"

Bruce stopped at her desk. "You know. I really did. I have a great family and I haven't been home enough since I've been here to appreciate what I have."

She smiled at him. "This is a dangerous place, you know?"

"Yes it is," he replied. "It's easy to be led astray if you're not careful."

"I'm assuming whatever was going on before is over."

Bruce opened the candy jar on her desk and grabbed a mint. "Your assumption would be correct."

She got up and hugged him. "Good, I'm glad."

* * *

Bruce sat there and listened to Gary Harris' latest piece of legislature. "…This bill will help eliminate welfare. Giving these able-bodied welfare recipients five acres of land and the wherewithal to live, training them to be self-sufficient by providing the skills and tools necessary to support this lifestyle will break the welfare cycle many find themselves in, many for more than one generation, unable to break the shackles of government dependency."

When it was Bruce's turn, he asked, "Senator Harris, where will this land come from?"

"My staff has calculated that five years worth of welfare costs are more than enough to relocate and establish a four person welfare family on a self-sufficient farm."

Bruce asked his question again. "Senator Harris. Where will the land come from?"

"Ah, it will come from government land that's administered by the Bureau of Land Management."

"You mean," Bruce said, "land presently leased to ranchers for grazing their cattle."

"Some of this land is presently being leased," Harris said, "but not all of it."

"Most of that land is in the West," Bruce said. "Does that mean you would relocate welfare recipients from the cities to rangeland in the West?"

Harris looked at him defiantly. "Yes, that's the plan."

"Okay," Bruce said and sat back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

Two senators from out west peppered Harris with questions concerning the rangeland presently being used by their constituents. Neither seemed satisfied with Harris' answers.

* * *

"Well, what do you think of Harris' latest bill?" Bruce asked Fred Waring as the two sat in his office after the committee meeting.

"Step one. Forced relocation of welfare recipients. The hardcore welfare types have never known anything but government dependency. They're an easy target."

"Can he get it out of committee?"

"This is going to be a tough one for him. This isn't an environmental issue." Fred said.

"Yeah," Bruce replied. "He doesn't have the automatic votes on this one."

Fred didn't say anything for a few minutes. Finally, he said, "You're right, he doesn't have the majority. He needs Bonner's vote and he's still in the hospital from that auto accident."

Bruce smiled. "That's right; by my reckoning he needs two more senators to vote with him. Who will it be?"

Fred pointed his finger at Bruce. "You! You're one of them."

"Why me?"

"Spencer got to you on the organic farming proclamation."

Bruce laughed, "No he didn't. I did the same thing you did, made an organizational vote. Committee unity."

"Who else?" Fred asked, ignoring Bruce's denial.

Bruce pointed his finger at his friend. "It could be you, you know. We're the two rookies on the committee. He doesn't have a chance of turning some of the old dinosaurs."

"Hmm," Fred said. "Harris is on the Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions committee with Tyler. Tyler's got a pending bill on easing corporate funding of pensions. There's a possibility for vote trading between those two."

"Yeah, could be, Tyler's from Maine, he can't be hurt by voting with Harris on this one."

"We won't vote on this until late next week, we'll see what happens then," Fred said. "Oh yeah, you went home this last weekend. How'd it go?"

Bruce grinned. "It was great. The longer I'm here, the more I appreciate my wife and kids. The weekend couldn't have been better."

"Too bad," Fred said, a frown on his face. "Have you looked at the calendar?"

"No. Why?"

"You won't be going anywhere for the next two weekends. Spencer's got us working."

"Shit," Bruce was beginning to hate working weekends.

* * *

Bruce sat in his recliner, Tom Collins in hand, wishing he were on a plane back to Indiana when the doorbell rang.

Reluctantly he got up, wondering who it could at six o'clock on Friday evening.

"Hi, I'm Britney Godwin, your new neighbor."

He stared at this attractive young lady standing before him wearing a baggy sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. He figured she must have moved in recently. He hadn't seen her before.

"Hi, I'm Bruce, Bruce Reingold. What can I do for you?"

"I moved in last weekend. I bought this universal gym set and they delivered it this afternoon. I thought they would put it together but, of course, they wouldn't. Would you help me? I'm not very mechanically inclined."

Bruce stared into her eyes for a long second as she smiled at him, her expression one of hopefulness. Finally, he said, "I can't help you this evening, but let me look at it; maybe I might be able to do something tomorrow."

"Oh, that'd be great." She reached down and took his hand. "Come on over and you can see this monstrosity. I can't even get it out of the box."

He looked around her living room when they walked and shook his head. "The difference between men and women. This place looks like you've been living here for a while. I didn't unpack my last box until six weeks after I was in."

She laughed and led him towards a bedroom. "I've got it in this other bedroom; I want to make it my exercise room."

After looking at the box, he said, "You're right, this is a monster. What made you get this?"

"My brother had one and I'd used his a little back home," she said flashing him a perfect smile. "I've been working out at Gold's Gym here but didn't really like the 'meat market' atmosphere there. When my trial membership was up, I decided to get one of these and do this stuff here; it cost about the same as a year's membership. I can do the same exercises I've been doing on the machines there, don't you think?"

He studied the box, looking at the pictures and reading the hype. "I've never used one myself but the pictures make it look like it will do about any kind of weight workout you want."

"That's what I was hoping."

He opened the end of the carton and fished out the instruction booklet. After looking it over for several minutes, he said, "This will take about three to four hours to put it together." He thought for a moment. "I can do it tomorrow afternoon, uh, say about one or so."

She stepped up and gave him a quick hug. "Oh, thank you. I saw you come home a couple of times. You looked like a nice man. I was hoping you'd do it. I don't know anyone here."

"No boyfriend?"

She shook her head and said, sadly, "No, we broke up."

Bruce made his way to the door. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

She leaned against the doorjamb and grinned at him. "Thank you."

* * *

It was almost noon before the committee meeting broke up. The part of the meeting that required them to meet on Saturday ended quickly and then Harris held center stage, spending the rest of the morning arguing for his welfare self-sufficiency bill. His allies were very vocal; it had been a frustrating morning. Bruce stopped at one of the fast food places and picked up a burger and ate it in his car. He had just enough time to change to be at Britney's place by one.

A few minutes after one he knocked on her door. Britney answered the door wearing shorts and a halter-top.

"Come on in!" She said while motioning with her hand. "I was hoping that seeing that thing didn't scare you off."

He smiled at her, "Frustrating morning at work. I need something to keep my mind off that. This will do it."

"Do you want something to drink before we start? Coke, coffee?"

He chuckled. "Lunch was a burger and Coke in the car. I'm fine. Let's get to it."

Three and a half hours later, it was together.

"Well, we did it," he said. "You want to try it out?"

She stood back and looked at the machine for several seconds before answering. "Yes, let me change into my workout clothes."

She returned in black spandex shorts and an exercise bra. He understood why she thought Gold's Gym was a 'meat market'; she was U.S. Prime, for sure. She was about five-four, beautiful face, well-proportioned body, long brown hair tied up in a ponytail. He thought about his daughter. This is how she'll look in a few years. I am not looking forward to her teenage years.

"I think I'll try the routine I was doing at the gym. When I read about this machine on the Internet it seemed like I could get all of my exercises done on it. Let's see."

They spent the next thirty minutes going through different exercises. He was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on the mechanics of what she was doing. Her effect on him was interfering with normal brain function.

"It's working out fine," she said. "Once I get used to switching things around it'll be easy." She flashed him a bright smile again. "Thanks, you're the perfect neighbor."

He got ready to go. "You're quite welcome. If you have any problems with it, give me a holler."

She got up from the machine and stood in front of him, staring into his eyes for a several seconds before speaking. "Let me take you out for dinner. I couldn't have done this by myself, I owe you that, at least."

Bruce, feeling weak in the knees, knew he should say, No thanks, I've got other plans, instead, he heard himself say, "Okay, what time?"

"Oh, come over about six. I'll make reservations for 6:15 at that Italian restaurant down the street. I ate there yesterday, they have good food."

"Okay, I'll see you at six."

Why am I doing this? He asked himself when he got back to his apartment. Kathy was gone; that was just a one-time fling, nothing more, he believed now. It was wrong, but it was over. He felt guilty about it. I'll just have dinner with her, that's all.

At six, he knocked on her door. Britney opened the door, invited him in and said, "Just give me a minute; I've got to finish putting on my make-up. Have a seat."

He watched her as she turned around and headed off to the bathroom. Black must be her color, he thought. She wore a black lace covered vest over a black, stretch, sateen mini skirt. There was enough cleavage to be distracting.

She came out of the bathroom and walked up to him, her breasts inches from his chest. "How do I look?"

Forcing himself to look into her eyes, he said, "You look wonderful."

"Well, I was going for sexy, but I'll take wonderful."

He smiled, "Oh, no doubt about you being sexy, I was just trying to be a gentleman."

Picking up her purse, she smiled sweetly and said, "We'll see what we can do about that gentleman stuff."

He walked out behind her, admiring the swing of her hips.

As with every restaurant in Georgetown, a reservation meant you had to sit in the bar for thirty minutes while they 'prepared' your table. They both ordered Bellinis, the house specialty, a combination of Italian Champagne and peach juice. When the drinks arrived, she said, "Cheers, this is the least I can do for your help this afternoon."

"You don't have to do this, helping you was the neighborly thing to do."

"Not in this day and age. People don't want to help you do anything for free. Everybody wants something in return."

He raised his glass. "Dinner will be my payment then."

She touched her glass to his. "You're letting me off easy. "Now, what do you do?"

"I'm a Senator."

A startled look appeared on her face. "Really? From what state?"

"From Indiana. I'm the junior Senator. This is my first term."

She stared at his face for a long minute and then said slowly, "Oh, okay," as if a memory was coming back. "I'm from Indiana too, that's why your name and face were familiar. I just couldn't place you." She seemed in awe now. "Wow, my senator helping me put that thing together. That's going above and beyond."

He smiled at her. "Anything to get your vote. You did vote for me, I hope."

Her smile was a bit sheepish now. "You know, senator, I didn't vote last time. But, I sure will vote for you next time, twice if they'll let me."

He chuckled at her last comment and asked, "Where are you from in Indiana?"

"I was born and raised in Spring Grove, near Richmond. Where's your home, Bruce?" She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, should I be calling you senator?"

He laughed, "No, Bruce is fine. I'm on the opposite side of the state from you, born on a farm in Sullivan County near the big city of Graysville, population around 50. I was living in Indianapolis when I was elected."

She looked at him and said, "Wow. Do I have a story for back home; I had dinner with my senator. That will impress people."

"What are you doing here? I'm betting you're either a college student or you work for the government, which is it?"

"I go to Georgetown, majoring in Political Science. I'm a junior now."

He faked a frown at her. "Georgetown? Is there something wrong with Indiana's schools?"

"Oh no," she said defensively. "My father insisted that I go to a Catholic university. His choice was Notre Dame. I didn't want to go there because it was too close to home; he would expect me to be home every weekend. It took some doing but I finally convinced him to let me spread my wings a little and go out of state. After learning that Georgetown was Catholic, he agreed. Now I only go home on long weekends and school breaks."

"I can understand that. This place is more interesting than South Bend. It's definitely not a college town. History and politics are the environment here. If you have any interest in those, this is a great place to be."

"I know. I'm your typical small town girl in the big city. I've been here more than two years now and I'm still overwhelmed by the significance of what goes on here."

"You just moved into the apartment, where have you been living?"

"I spent the first two years in the dorm, and really, it wasn't too bad. This semester was different. I got a new roommate, big mistake. She kept the door open all the time. I got tired of people wandering in and out like they lived there. On the weekends it was really bad, drunk boys wandering in looking for you know what."

"Yeah, I remember living in the dorm," he said. "Privacy was not high on the agenda."

"You can say that again. I told my father I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of there. It took some doing, and my mother's help, but I finally convinced him that it would be better for my grades if he put me in an apartment. Now I've got to make sure my grades improve, they slipped some last year. I was 4.0 as a freshman and 3.7 last year."

"Oh no, don't let that be the beginning of a trend."

Wrinkling her nose, she said, "Nah, an aberration, I'll fix it. Tell me, Sen—Bruce, you grew up in a more rural environment that I did. What to you think about living here? Don't you find it exciting, being in the seat of government and all that?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "I don't know about that. I've been here almost two years now and I'm kind of cynical. This place is purely political, or at least my part of it is. It's been a real eye opener for me, being in the Senate. When I came here, I believed we would conduct ourselves in the best interests of the country. From what I've seen so far, we conduct ourselves as politicians, not servants of the people."

"Wow, idealistic, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but I'm adjusting, I just don't know if I like it or not. I guess I'll know when re-election time rolls around."

Britney's beeper went off, the cue that the table was finally ready.

She ordered the Spaghetti Bolognese, he the Veal Parmesan.

All of a sudden a waiter burst into song. Singing "Che Gelida Manina" the waiter began a series of Italian opera selections. Although no Andrea Bocelli, the tenor was an accomplished musician. After the last selection ended, the patrons applauded with enthusiasm.

"That was a nice touch. Did you arrange that?"

"No," she laughed. "I didn't know they had entertainment. The guy was pretty good even though I'm not an opera fan."

Changing her face to a frown, she glared at him. In a mockingly scolding voice, she said, "Mr. Senator, I see you've ordered baby cow. This constituent doesn't approve of that. Don't let that happen again or you won't get my vote."

At that point, the waiter appeared with their orders.

"Too late to change it now, it's here. It might make you feel better to know that

I have some moral problems with eating it too, but my taste buds overruled my thought process. This stuff just tastes too good. Want a bite?"

"No, I don't want a bite," she said.

"I'll tell you what, next time I'll order whatever your having. Will that guarantee me your vote?"

"That would do it, but I would wonder what you were doing when I wasn't watching."

"Pretty insightful, young lady. I think you just described the workings of the federal government. Who knows what we're doing when nobody's watching?"

"Ah, I thought you guys were all upstanding citizens."

He laughed and said, "Someone once described democracy as an unsightly, messy business that mainly produces desirable results. I'm not so sure about the desirable results, but the unsightly, messy part is right.

"The one thing that still amazes me about Congress is the number of factions that attempt to sway your vote. It's really shocking to note the influence of special interests and the means they use to get to you. They'll identify your likes, your weaknesses, and work on those. I naively thought that I would be representing my state. Boy, was I wrong. There are so many other factors to consider."

"Well, Senator, if you've been able to recognize the tactics used by the special interest groups you should be able to resist them. Is that not true?"

"I hadn't thought about that," he said, "but you're right. I should give myself credit for that."

She placed her fork on the plate, picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth. When she finished she said, "Let me offer the senator a bribe. I've got some New York style Cheesecake in my apartment. Let's have that for dessert instead of ordering something here. And I do have a hidden agenda. I have a weakness for Cheesecake and I don't want to eat all those calories. Every calorie I get you to eat is one less for me." She laughed. "See how devious I am."

He grinned at her, "Okay, that's sounds like an invitation I can't turn down. Anything to keep the constituents happy."

Back in the apartment, she asked, "Something else to drink or do you want coffee?"

"Coffee will be fine. I don't normally have more than one or two drinks."

"I'm glad you said coffee. I don't have anything to drink in this place. I'm not much on booze either. It leads to trouble." While the coffee was perking, she excused herself to go change into something more comfortable. One part of him wanted her to come in something that might lead to something else, another part of him was saying, It's time to leave.

When she returned in sweats he was both relieved and disappointed. Mentally: he knew he shouldn't get involved with this young woman; physically: he wanted her very much.

"The coffee's ready," she said. "Let's have the Cheesecake in the kitchen."

"This isn't homemade," she said as they sat down at the table. "I got it at 'Cheesecakes and More'. They make the best."

Bruce savored the first bite. "You're right, this stuff is good. I wouldn't want this around all the time either. One slice is about five miles of running. I don't know if it's that good or not."