Kiernan and Montana aren't looking for complicated in their Chicago summer, but somehow complicated has found them.
[co-written with @w1ldflow3r]
[extended summary inside]
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"Please forgive me for my sins. I will do almost anything to make it up to you." Emelia King's voice floated over the steady chatter of the office. Even with the end of the workday approaching, most campaign staffers remained at their desks and glued to their landlines...except for Emelia.
"I need another word for revitalize." I didn't look up from the draft of the remarks I was writing out by hand. Taking actual notes in an actual notebook was part of my writing process.
As soon as I finished this draft, I would type it up and send it off to the campaign's Communications Director for approval. Tag Bradley had to approve everything I wrote.
He was self-righteous, persnickety, and refused to be called sir, but he was brilliant and I knew how to take constructive criticism.
"Oh my god you're never going to forgive me," Emelia bemoaned.
I huffed out a sigh and finally looked up at Emelia, who stood beside my cubicle. There were few people who looked great in harsh fluorescent office lighting, but she was one of them. The highlighter dusted on her dark cheekbones gave her an effortlessly sculpted look that complimented the rest of her effortless no-makeup makeup look. She had her black braids pulled up into a high-ponytail, which gave her additional height, even though she was at least 5'8" and had a slim athletic build. I wasn't at all surprised when she told me that she played soccer at Notre Dame.
I pushed my chair away from my desk and crossed one leg over the other. I wore a black satin midi slip skirt that still seemed to retain the warmth of the sun from when I stepped out for coffee an hour earlier. "Before we never speak about this again, I need to know why you thought for even one second that your friend and I were going to hit it off at a deep dish pizza place. I don't even like deep dish pizza."
"You're just so different from his ex-girlfriend, and I mean that in the best way possible," Emelia assured me. "Jed needs something and someone different."
"I'm sure he's a good guy, but I'm no one's rebound."
Emelia dragged a nearby open office chair over to my cubicle and dropped into it. "I'm sorry that I dragged you into this," she said as she smoothed out her lavender linen trousers. "All of my friends from Notre Dame are super great, and most of them live in the city now. We should get drinks sometime soon, and I'll reintroduce you to Jed as a friend."
I swiveled my seat around to face her directly. The genuine hope in her dark eyes made it impossible to say no to her face.
"Sure," I surrendered with a subtle grin.
Emelia beamed, her teeth brilliantly white. "I'll get something in the books."
"Now will you quit hovering so I can finish this draft and go home?"
She dramatically rolled her chair backwards and stood up in her delicate white kitten heels. "But am I forgiven?"
"You're forgiven," I stated as I twirled my black ballpoint pen between two fingers. "Just don't bring it up again. Ever."
