Free A Very Important Guest by Mary Whitney Page B

spied the open door and recognized it as a sign to leave. “Have a good night, Congressman.”
    “Wait,” he said, tugging his shirt over his head. “You didn’t answer my question. How do you know I’m a congressman?”
    “Oh. I’ve seen you on T.V. That’s all.”
    “You have?” His face was askew in disbelief.
    “Yes…” She pursed her lips to avoid adding a snide remark. He obviously didn’t think a maid would even watch the news.
    Raising a hand as if to deflect her thought, he grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that outside of my district I’m not normally recognized.”
    She waited for a moment as she debated whether or not to believe him and decided he was probably telling the truth. Shrugging it off, she said, “It’s okay. I just happened to watch a lot of C-SPAN last semester.”
    “You’re in school?”
    “Yeah.” Though he hadn’t said it, she was sure he noticed her age and was wondering why she was still in school. She touched her ponytail. “I’m older than most of the students. It’s taking me a while. My family has had a lot of health issues.”
    “I’m sorry to hear it.” He shook his head. “But you shouldn’t feel bad about your age. You’re getting your degree. That’s great. My dad didn’t get his until I was in high school.” As if he’d spotted something dangerous, he scanned her body from head to toe. “Not that you’re old, I might add.”
    “Thanks. I’m twenty-six.” She looked at him cautiously, because it seemed like the rude man she’d encountered earlier that morning had been replaced by a much kinder one.
    “What are you studying?” he asked, reinforcing her belief.
    “Poli Sci, but I’m interested in International Relations.”
    “Huh.”  He cocked his head. “Why that?”
    “I grew up all over the world. My dad and stepfather were both in the military.”
    “So, do you want to leave Hawaii when you get your degree?”
    “Yes. Eventually,” she said with a wince. “I’m not sure when. My mom is sick.”
    He stared at her silently for a moment as his expression turned to one of genuine concern. “That’s tough. What does she—”
    “I really should leave. I need to finish this floor.” She didn’t want to hear his question—let alone answer it.
    More silence ensued, and his expression didn’t change. He nodded, visibly understanding the command she had given him. Don’t go there. He cleared his throat, stood, and stretched again. “And I need to get downstairs to dinner, or I’ll miss the speaker.”
    “You’re here for that judicial conference?” As soon as she said it, she felt uncomfortable—like she shouldn’t know that much about him. 
    “I am.” He arched a brow. “You know of it?”
    “A little.” She thought a joke might get her out of the awkwardness. “It’s not like we get the agendas.”
    He smiled. “What do you get?”
    “Um … Not much. Just when guests are checking out and if there’s a V.I.P. on the floor.”
    “See?” He pointed a finger at her. “I told you no one knows who I am. The hotel doesn’t think I’m a V.I.P.”
    Abby hated being outwitted, so she kidded him in a playful tone. “Now, now. This hotel’s slogan is ‘everyone is a very important guest.’ ”
    “Good save,” he said with a laugh. “You should go into politics.”
    “But, I shouldn’t have left myself open like that.”
    “It happens. The question is whether or not you can recover from it.” He nodded like he was giving his approval. “You’re quick.”
    “Thanks.” Altogether unsettled by the compliment, she gave him a shy smile. “I should be quicker, though. I need to finish my rounds.”
    His voice was faint, but her ears perked up when she heard him mutter, “Too bad.” He sighed. “I should also get a move on.”
    “Have a nice time. Good night.”
    “You, too.”
    As she started for the door, it nagged on her that a friendly conversation had ended on such a