A Very Important Guest Page 2

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “What?”

  “You don’t believe that I know what it means to work.”

  “Well … I wouldn’t say that,” she said as her anxiety increased.

  “Then what?”

  While she’d never spoken so plainly with a guest in the hotel, he still was a guest. She hated the thought of criticizing a customer, especially a member of Congress who could probably get her fired. She waived her hand to end the conversation. “It doesn’t matter. I need to get to my next room.”

  His expression soured, but his dark brown eyes looked sincere. “It’s about yesterday, right? I was rude to you when we met, wasn’t I?”

  "No. It was fine. I’m used to it.” She wanted to kick herself for adding the last part. She hadn’t meant to confirm he was rude.

  “I knew it. I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I was cranky after the long flight, and I’d worked the whole time. It doesn’t excuse my behavior. I forgot you weren’t my staff.”

  “Your staff?”

  “I know. I also don’t treat my staff as well as I should.” He grimaced. “I get busy and …”

  He shifted awkwardly, as if he was ashamed. Had she pushed him too far? She felt guilty and dismissed the situation. “Whatever. I’m sure they understand, and as for me, it’s not a problem.”

  He was quiet for a moment, and Abby felt like he was appraising her as he stared. A smile soon formed on his face. “How about you let me take you out to dinner to make it up to you?”

  “Dinner?” Her voice was riddled with disbelief.

  “Yes, dinner.”

  The word “dinner” rang through her brain as she debated what it might mean. It could be seen as a date, or it could just be a friendly meal. She hadn’t been on a date for at least two years, and she’d never gone out with a complete stranger. “But … but we don’t even know each other’s names.”

  “Sure we do.”

  “We do?”

  He pointed to her chest. “Your name is Abigail, and you must know my name.”

  “William Lloyd?” She cautiously grinned.

  “My friends call me Will,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Hi, Will.” She shook his hand, which made hers feel small. “I’m Abby Flaherty.”

  “Abby,” he said as if he was mulling it over. “I like that name. So, will you go to dinner with me now?”

  “Sure,” she said, telling herself it wasn’t a date.

  “Great. Let me get the concierge to make reservations. When are you available? And can I pick you up?”

  Picking her up was out of the question. That was definitely date behavior. Thinking of her afternoon trip to the nursing facility plus her commute, she said, “How about eight? Just tell me where to meet you.”

  “Meet me? Well, we could meet here in the lobby, or better yet, I could come pick you up.”

  Neither suggestion was palatable to her. While there weren’t rules against fraternizing with guests, it was frowned upon, and she didn’t want to be thought of that way. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet here, and I live in Kailua. It’s a bit of drive. I should just meet you at the restaurant.”

  “Okay. If you insist.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I need your number then.”

  “Let me get a pen.”

  Reaching for his back pocket, he said, “Just tell me. I’ll call you and then you’ll have my number, too.”

  “All right,” she said, pulling her phone from her apron’s pocket. She wanted to giggle at the thought of having a congressman in her short list of contacts.

  After she told him her number and answered his subsequent call, they both smiled. She wanted to avoid an awkward silence. “I should move on to the next room.”

  “And I should move on to my next panel.”

  “Is the conference interesting?”

  “Some of it.” He nodded toward the door. “I’d rather be at the beach.”

  “Don’t you get some time off?”

  “A little.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to offer him a tour of the island, but she panicked and reined herself back in. What are you thinking? “That’s good,” she mumbled. With a glance at her watch, she said, “Now I really need to get back to work.”

  “I’ll call you,” he said as if he was looking forward to it.

  She opened up her hand and gestured toward the rag in his. “Can I have that back?”

  “Here you go. But you’re not cleaning my bathroom again.”

  As she took the rag from him, she rolled her eyes and smiled. “We’ll see about that.” She turned to get her vacuum, but temptation got to her. She looked again into the bathroom. “Oh, and if the Congress thing doesn’t work out, I can put in a good word for you at the hotel. You do a good job.”

  He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, Abby was happy to find street parking reasonably close to her destination, the swanky Nai Restaurant. As she walked toward the front door, she readjusted the purse on her shoulder. She wasn’t used to the small bag, which she only wore with her special dresses. Trying to dispel the nervousness welling inside of her, she patted her hair which fell down to her bare shoulders.

  She kept telling herself she was just meeting an interesting acquaintance for dinner, and there were no strings attached, yet the quivers of her heart continued. It was a combination of the forgotten excitement of a first date, and the fear of going out with a guy who was a little older and very accomplished. She’d done some online research about Will, who turned out to be a thirty-one-year-old, rising political star. That was a far different biography from her last boyfriend, a starving artist.

  When she entered the restaurant, she immediately saw Will with his head down, immersed in whatever was on his phone. He wore a starched Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and loafers without socks. For Hawaii, he was very well-dressed. As she walked toward him, he glanced up from his phone, and a wide smile spread across his face. She gave him a more demure one.

  Without another look at his phone, he dropped it in his back pocket as he met her halfway. He held his hand out and said, “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “You look gorgeous. I mean, you’re very pretty, but right now…”

  “Thanks.” Unnerved that the first thing he said to her was a very date-like compliment, she touched the strap of her sundress in search of an excuse. “It’s the dress. I’m not wearing my uniform.”

  He side-eyed her. “It’s not just the dress.”

  The hostess arrived and interrupted their conversation. When they were seated at their table and alone again, he looked up from the menu and studied her instead. “I feel like I’m meeting a whole other side of Abby.”

  “Maybe so.” She looked away, trying to stay centered on a platonic dinner, but her mouth twitched. He’d left her an opening, and her urge to banter with him couldn’t be controlled. “Do I get to meet a whole new side of Congressman Lloyd?”

  “Maybe,” he said, returning the volley.

  A waiter appeared and suggested a wine, to which they agreed. After he left to retrieve the bottle, Will leaned in and said, “I’ve got to admit something. I didn’t know this was a seafood restaurant.”

  Abby’s eyes dropped down to the Asian-fusion menu for a quick scan to confirm what she already planned to say. “I wouldn’t say it’s a seafood restaurant.”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “No.” She laughed. “This is Hawaii. There’s always a lot of fish on a menu.”

  “Hmm,” he said, as if he was unimpressed with her explanation.

  “What is it? You don’t eat fish?”

  “Not fish like this.”

  “So, what do you usually order at a seafood restaurant?”

  “The surf and turf and skip the surf.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to find that here.” She chuckled and sho
ok her head. “When you were growing up, didn’t you eat fish?”

  “Occasionally.”

  “Well, what did you eat? I’m sure we can find something similar.”

  “Fish sticks.”

  “Oh God.” She frowned, thinking of the taste. “Anything else?”

  “Tuna fish.”

  “No wonder you don’t like fish.” She laughed. “And I thought I was going out with a refined congressman.”

  He snorted. “You’ve watched C-SPAN. There is nothing refined about Congress.”

  “That’s certainly true.”

  When the waiter arrived with the wine, Abby suggested, “How about you let me order for you?”

  “Sounds great.”

  After she placed their orders, she said, “If you hold Congress in such low regard, why are you in it?”

  “Good question.” He chuckled. “I guess I’m no different than everyone else in Congress. I think I can make a difference.”

  “That’s hard though, isn’t it?”

  “It is. Much harder than I thought.”

  “But you’re young. You have a lot of time.”

  He raised his glass. “I do, but I also have to work just to stay in office.”

  “The constant election cycle … right. That must be grueling.” She was quiet for a second before tilting her head in realization. “But your seat is totally safe.”

  He leaned in further, his voice earnest as he teased her. “Ms. Flaherty, have you been reading up on me?”

  “A little.” Abby felt her cheeks flare in embarrassment, so she shrugged. “Shouldn’t I try to learn more about a strange man I’m meeting for dinner?”

  “Well, if you put it that way, of course.” He laughed. “Tell me, what else have you found out?”

  “A few things. Your official bio is pretty thorough. I like your dog.”

  “Thanks. Blackjack is the best. I wish I could be around him more.”

  “But I have one question,” she said more timidly.

  “What’s that?”

  “How did you get in office in the first place?”

  “Ah…” He eased back in his seat and took a sip of wine. “This shows you didn’t do all your research.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it wasn’t the traditional route.”

  “So what happened? Your bio said you were only a city councilman. How did you make that leap? That’s kind of a big jump, right? From a local politician up to Congress?”

  “The fact is, I was lucky. I was in the right place at the right time.”

  “How did you work that?”

  “My parents always pushed me on my education. My dad is proud to be a steelworker, but he also didn’t want me to be one unless I really wanted to. It was through him I became interested in politics.”

  “Why?”

  “Because as long as I can remember, he was really involved in the union. He talked politics all the time at the dinner table. My mom, too.”

  “That sounds fun to me.”

  “Yeah, my parents are great. They’ve been together thirty-five years.”

  “How did they meet?”

  “At a donut shop.”

  “Really? How funny.”

  “It’s true. My dad says it was love at first sight.”

  Abby leaned back in her chair, thinking it might be an opportunity to make the conversation more platonic. He certainly hadn’t fallen in love with her when he first laid eyes on her. The topic should be safe ground. “So do you think you’ll have that, too? Like you see someone and that’s that?”

  “Not sure.” His voice expressed as much puzzlement as his words. She’d clearly caught him off guard. “I know it’s possible, but my life is more complicated than their lives were back then.”

  “How so?”

  “It just is. They were young. I’m older and maybe a little jaded.” He stared at her for a moment and narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t everyone a little jaded?”

  Jaded. It was one of those words her Aunt Maureen liked to use. Also “bitter.” “You can’t let this make you jaded,” or “Don’t be bitter, Abby.” Abby knew she wasn’t, but she always ignored her Aunt’s remarks. Luckily, her grandmother had stood up for her. One night when they were visiting, Abby went to bed early, and she overheard her grandmother say, “She’s not bitter, Maureen. She’s just sad. There’s a difference.” Her grandmother was right.

  She gave him a brief smile. “No. I’m not jaded.”

  “So you believe in love at first sight?”

  “Sure. I mean, it happens, right?” When he continued to gaze at her in silence, she felt like she was being analyzed. She grasped for another topic. “You know, it’s interesting to me that unions are such a political lightning rod in America. In other countries I’ve lived in, they’re just a fact of life.”

  He raised his eyebrows like he recognized the reason for her abrupt subject change. Smiling, he recited what had to be a line from one of his stump speeches. “Not every place respects workers’ rights. It’s sad, because people don’t realize the policies unions advocate for help all workers in the long run.”

  “Well, I like my union.”

  “That’s right. With your job, you would be in one, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yup.” She laughed. “And with your job, you wouldn’t stay in a non-union hotel.”

  “True.” He studied her for a moment as if he liked what he saw. “But you don’t really fit the demographic of your average hotel union member—at least not a housekeeper.”

  “I suppose I don’t, but the job is good for me right now.”

  He continued to stare. As much as she enjoyed the tingling feeling she had when she met his gaze, she wanted to change the subject away from her. “So you were interested in politics when you were growing up. Then what happened?”

  “I was a Poli Sci major at Ohio State, and afterward I worked for six years on the Hill for my local congressman, Congressman Gilliard.”

  “Was he a friend of the working man?” Abby’s lips turned up in a hint of amusement.

  “Yes, indeed.” He smiled. “Eventually, I became his legislative director, before a local city council seat in Akron opened up and I ran for it.”

  “You weren’t even really living there, and they voted you in?”

  Running his hand through his hair, he snickered. “Let’s just say I had a lot of union support.”

  “I bet you did. Is that also what got you into Congress?”

  “Well, Gilliard was retiring, and he endorsed me, but I’ll be honest, the unions muscled me through.”

  Abby wrinkled her nose at the thought. “Isn’t that nepotism? Maybe a little unfair?”

  “Unfair?” His eyes widened. “No more or less than the nepotism that occurs hundreds of times over as seats in Congress are virtually passed down from one family member to the next, or how the rich practically buy seats.”

  “You’re right.” She weighed the differences in undue influence over the electoral system. “I didn’t think of it that way.”

  When he didn’t speak again, she saw that she’d ruffled his feathers, and she felt a pang of despair at the possibility that she’d displeased him. Remembering something she’d read, she tried to recover her good standing. “But you’ve been effective since you’ve been in office. I mean, especially considering this is only your second term.”

  “I’ve tried,” he said, the warmth returning to his expression.

  “You’re like a young star. At least that’s what I’ve read.”

  He winked at her. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”

  “Yeah, right.” As she reached for her glass of wine, she steadied herself from the warmth of his flirt.

  “Speaking of research,” he said and pointed a finger at her. “I tried to find something about the strange woman I was meeting for dinner, but there wasn’t much.”

  Abby took a sip as she recalled what limited information was out there about her.
She’d searched for herself on the internet before, looking to see what came up. Her name wasn’t that common, so there weren’t many results, but the few that did rise to the top were unmistakably her. The most recent one was telling: “Rear Admiral Nelson is survived by his beloved wife, Gloria, his sons from a previous marriage, Captain Joseph Nelson of San Diego, CA and Commander Matthew Nelson of Norfolk, VA, seven grandchildren, and stepdaughter Abigail Flaherty of Honolulu. His ashes will be scattered in the Pacific Ocean.”

  She’d already told Will her mother was sick, though not the severity of it. If he put two and two together, he might have figured out she was taking care of her mother by herself. She forced a smile as she wondered if he would bring it up. “And what did you find out about this strange woman?”

  “It looks like she used to be involved in rowing in high school and was on an academic quiz team. In college, she was in a sorority for a while. The trail pretty much grows cold from there.”

  She held his gaze as he obviously waited for her to fill in the blanks. The fact that he didn’t say anything about the obituary touched her and actually made her want to tell him more about herself—though not yet. She shrugged. “Yeah, I haven’t been active in my sorority in at least six years.”

  “You’ve been busy. Besides, who really wants to hang out with those people?” he said with a chuckle.

  “True.”

  “So you said you lived all over the world. How long have you lived in Hawaii?”

  “Eight years now. Longer than I’ve lived anywhere.”

  “And where else have you lived?”

  “Japan, Spain, Italy, Crete.”

  “Wow. I’ve only lived in two places my whole life. Ohio and D.C.”

  “It must feel nice to have real ties to a place. I don’t really have that.”

  “But you’ve seen so much.”

  “I have, but I’ve seen more military bases than anything else.”

  “What country did you live in the longest?”