Free Valentine Vote by Susan Blexrud

down the hall in his Gucci loafers and waved him into her office when he rounded the corner. “What’s your count?” he asked.
    “I’m close. I’ll visit with Arkansas and Oklahoma again today. Senator Flutie from Arkansas is hot on the pig farmers’ bill, and he’s been trying to trade votes with Virginia and North Carolina. He told Senator Morrison he’d support price election on tobacco if Morrison backed him on the pigs.”
    “Besides price election, what are Morrison’s hot buttons?” Bill loosened his tie and took the chair opposite Courtney’s desk.
    “He likes the non-profit bill with the stipends for Special Olympics. That’s a tough one because there are some organizations bundled with that bill that support lesbians and gays, and some of the more conservative senators won’t support it. It’s a shame because several of those non-profits are focused on bullying in schools.” Courtney chewed on a fingernail, and then slapped her hand away. She almost had nails now, but the stress of this week had her reverting to old habits. “He could probably get a few price election votes from conservative senators if he voted against the non-profit bill, but I don’t think he’d do that.” Courtney couldn’t help but smile—and sigh. “He’s too principled.”
    “You like this guy?” Bill’s eyebrows shot up.
    Courtney sucked in her lips, wiping away her smile. “I was skeptical that all his do-goodness was for show, but he’s for real. Yeah, I like him.”
    Bill nodded, shrewd eyes sizing her up. “Just be careful. Hook-ups like that can derail a career. If the media saw you two cozied up somewhere and Morrison ended up voting for the tobacco tax, his constituents would crucify him. He’d never get re-elected.”
    Her scalp prickled with the heat of embarrassment. She’d been so busy sabotaging any hope of intimacy with Eric, she hadn’t considered either of their careers—another indication that her brain wasn’t working on all cylinders. So, to get back to Bill’s warning, a hook-up was probably a moot point. “Don’t worry about that—on two counts. I doubt he’ll change his vote on the tobacco tax, and I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.”
    Bill pushed himself out of the chair, tightened his tie. “That’s for the best. Want a recipe for disaster? Pair a lobbyist with a legislator.” His cell phone chirped, and he answered it as he walked out of Courtney’s office.
    She stared at the door after he left. A dull ache settled in her heart. He was right.
    • • •
    In an effort to cheer Courtney up, Helen insisted they go to a Wizards basketball game on Sunday. The cheering fans might boost her spirits. Besides, she liked the draft beer and popcorn. She’d treat herself to a big pretzel, too.
    The weather had returned to frozen tundra, which somehow made Courtney recall the unseasonal day she’d shared with Eric and Travis at Manassas. Scratch that. Someday, she might be able to look back and remember that outing with a smile, but now, the stab of pain brought tears to her eyes.
    Courtney and Helen took the metro to Verizon Center. They were both bundled in more layers than they could count, and when they got to their seats in the nosebleed section, they were glad to find a few empty seats for piling their coats, vests, and scarves.
    “I just lost twenty pounds,” Helen said as she topped the pile with her wool cap.
    Courtney laughed and reached in her purse for her binoculars. She liked watching the cheerleader routines before the game started. She flashed back to her high school football games. She’d played the tuba in the band. She remembered standing on the sidelines, watching the cheerleaders hug the football players after the game. What if she’d gone to school with Eric? He would have been one of the football players, probably team captain. But of course, she wasn’t a cheerleader. She was the tuba nerd, and though she looked fashionable now on the outside,