Free Private Politics (The Easy Part) by Emma Barry Page B

anyone.”
    Millie, who was putting away the groceries they’d purchased a few minutes before into the cupboard, said over her shoulder, “He...that is, you know how he feels about you?”
    She spun the can of diced tomatoes around in her hand. Once. Twice. Three times. Did she know how he felt about her? Did she notice the way his eyes lingered on her legs? Had she picked up on the way he watched her when she talked and then frequently sighed? How he’d always end up next to her in a booth at a bar? Did everyone think she was an idiot? She was nearly thirty. She knew when a man was looking at her.
    “I’m aware.”
    Millie turned around and leaned against the counter. “It’s more than just a few longing glances.” She was in schoolmarm mode now, serious and didactic.
    “He’s a nice guy, you know,” Millie’s refrain started.
    Alyse rolled her eyes. There was no worse compliment on earth. “That’s a ringing endorsement. What else is there, really? You’ve convinced me. We’re getting married and having lots and lots of babies.”
    Even Millie couldn’t resist grinning sheepishly, but she pressed on undeterred. “He’s smart. He’s funny. He’s not even a little bit arrogant. I’ve rarely met a guy in DC who’s more genuine.” All of those things were true, so Alyse didn’t argue.
    Her roommate continued, “I know he’s...”
    “Schlubby? Immature? Unserious?”
    Millie shrugged off the accusations. Surely she was on solid ground with the first one: Liam was schlubby. His shoes were always scuffed, his hair was a mess and he dressed like an adolescent without any sense of how to mix colors or patterns, but he wasn’t immature or unserious. She had thought so, but the last week had proved her wrong.
    She kept talking, “Remember, he dropped everything and came over here to help you the second Parker asked. He tasked his staff to investigate. He’s met with you since then too. More than anyone else, he’s helping you.”
    True again. Maybe Millie should have gone to law school instead of becoming a union organizer. But she had skipped over a logical step, which Alyse intended to point out. “And therefore I owe him what precisely?”
    “Nothing. You don’t owe him a thing. Liam would never think about it that way. I’m just saying...be fair. And be honest. With yourself at least, if not with me.”
    Millie had let the subject go at that, but the damage was already done. Alyse wasn’t being fair to Liam, not even a little bit, but she had absolutely no idea how to fix it. Being fair would require her to figure out the hug and the irrational, date-related anger and she wasn’t ready to do that.
    Back to her envelopes it was! Only four hundred more or so to do. This was a task for an intern, but new ones wouldn’t arrive until summer. At present, there was just the one and he only worked part-time.
    Menial tasks didn’t bother her. They never had. Perhaps because she’d found her ambition in Washington, rather than bringing it with her, she never resented getting coffee or pushing papers. As far as she could tell, those things greased the wheels and someone had to do them. It might as well be her.
    Because she was absorbed in trying to replicate the perfection that first stamp, she didn’t hear anyone entering her cube. There was only the cream of the envelopes and the white tines of the stamp that simply wouldn’t line up correctly...until a knee materialized in her line of sight. What was that doing there?
    A knee meant a person. A person in her cube. A person who was now watching her struggle with stamps. She whipped around, facing Geri three-quarters of the way on. “Holy cow! How long have you been standing there?”
    “Not long.” She sniffed a little and stretched up on her toes to look at the papers on Alyse’s desk. Gesturing at the envelopes, she said, “I didn’t think we were sending those until next week.”
    “Just working ahead.”
    Geri shrugged. “I wanted to