should I say next?
Kitiona caught her mental breath as the food was served. "This stew smells wonderful," she said stirring it with her spoon.
Ben picked up a piece of sourdough bread and buttered it. "Try dipping some bread in it. The taste is something I never get tired of.” He dipped his buttered bread in the stew and then took a big bite of crust.
In between bites and sips, the two continued their conversation. Kitiona talked more about her island home. Ben talked about his daughter's work and how proud he was of her.
Ben insisted on paying the check. "You were my good Samaritan the other day. I appreciated your help," he said thankfully. "Sometimes when uncontrollable forces hit, you lose the ability to function. That's what happened to me, but you helped stabilize my disoriented mind and I thank you.”
Kitiona absorbed Ben's kind words like the bread did to the stew juices. She had heard enough. She decided to ask him for advice. "I have to do some errands right now, but I would like you to come by my apartment for dinner tonight, about 7ish? I want to talk to you about something,"
Ben thought it over for several seconds. Being the private person he had become he weighed whether to be a little less private. Kitiona noticed the delay.
She said, "Oh it's not a date or anything like that, I just wanted to talk with you about something.”
"Oh darn." Ben beamed. "Just kidding. My charming self would be flattered to listen. Where do you live?"
"Walk me back to the corner where we met and I'll show you.”
As they left the restaurant, Kitiona’s thoughts raced to a logical conclusion of what she did. She asked for help. Ben, for his part, was feeling younger today then yesterday for some strange reason.
Chapter 22 The Red Eye Back
Senator Bonni Giardina's plane landed at Dulles International shortly after Sunday morning's sunrise. The five or so hours in the air made a pint of scotch and a pack of cigarettes disappear. Giardina's two hour, post satisfaction catnap refreshed enough for her to seem relatively conscious. She was in her eyes, wide open stare when Eric completed his analysis of the current news cycle and the weekend talking points.
Bonni grumbled something about joining her guests in the forward cabin. As she passed Erin on the way out of the plane's office area, she placed her hand on Eric's shoulder. She stopped as if remembering their mile-high pleasure. Before she continued she raised her index finger and lightly brushed her manicured fingernail against his neck.
Eric froze. Not another quickie, he thought to himself. The Senator continued out of the cabin to his relief.
Eric went back to work on next week's schedule. He made sure the plane's office voice recorder was off. He checked the digital readouts for the main and backup units. Nothing recorded.
He wasn't worried that the Senator might be embarrassed by having an affair with him. He was embarrassed about doing her. He knew his upwardly mobile career in politics would get stalled should people find out he was poking an over-the-hill, bag-of-bones like Senator Bonni Giardina.
Two government limos met the plane. One took Bonni's sister-in-law and her family to their hotel. As Giardina and Eric were getting into the other limo Eric said, "We could have dropped them off on our way into town.”
The Senator responded with slight disgust, "We have to increase our budget. The more tax dollars we spend this year, the higher percentage increase we will have at our disposal next year. Use it or lose it. That’s our policy!”
Eric tried to remind her that some senators on the hill were getting nervous about spending taxpayer money frivolously. His efforts fell on deaf ears. Senator Giardina habitually spent money like there was no tomorrow, with no accountability to anyone. Her above the law attitude intrigued him.
"You mean the tea-bagger types?” she questioned. "They don't even know what hit them in the 2008 election. We’ve opened the money floodgates in Washington with the health care, tax-them-to-hell act, and I'm going to get my share.” Bonni finished with an arrogant, nervous grin while looking for her scotch and water.
The driver must have forgotten to pour her customary glass of scotch. Eric poured her a drink, but handed her a cigarette first. He knew the Senator's habits. He would give her a cigarette before a drink to calm her down. And he'd do just the opposite to pep her up.
He struck the Senator's lighter logoed with the U.S. Flag. He held it in front of the cigarette. Bonni drew in a long pull and exhaled up towards the open sunroof.
Eric handed her the drink and stared blankly at her. Giardina sipped and went into a trance-like gaze. She totally ignored Eric's stare. Her thoughts went back to Motorhead and Sal.
Twenty minutes later, the limo stopped at Bonni's townhouse. "Coming up," she half whispered to Eric.
Eric remembered the last time he accepted Bonni's invitation to come up. They were sitting on the couch talking about the Euro and its effects on the value of the dollar. Bonni slid over to show Eric a comparison chart. He looked at the chart and looked up at her. Before he could react, her lips were all over his. Within seconds, he began thinking below his belt.
Thirty minutes later, he was exhausted and she was as relaxed as he'd ever seen her. This elderly woman had just seduced me, he thought. The woman happened to be a United States Senator. His only rational at that time in his life was to ride this wave as far as it will take him. That was three years ago.
Eric shook his head. "I'm tired and Monday's is a big day of hearings.”
"You're right, we both could use some rest. I'll see you Monday,” she said with a half smile and a wink.
Eric took the limo to the Senate building. He dropped off the files they had taken to San Francisco. He checked the recording devices. Giardina's congressional office was equipped with motion activated, video and audio recording cameras and microphones. The digital outputs indicated minimal activity.
Eric locked the door upon leaving and drove to his apartment. He was relieved the trip was over and it was Sunday, a day or rest. How long could he keep up this act, he wondered.
Chapter 23 At Dinner
Ben arrived at Kitiona’s flat around 7pm. His curiosity peaked, he wondered, what would a pretty girl want to talk about with an old, beat up lawyer like me? Maybe she wanted advice about a parking ticket!
As he walked up the building's stairs, he noticed the motorcycle parked along side her building. Ben rang the bell on the front porch. Kitiona called down through the intercom and confirmed it was Ben. She buzzed him in. He walked up the flight of stairs and turned left to knock on the flat's door. Kitiona beat him to it. She opened the door as he was about to knock.
Kitiona invited Ben inside. Ben stepped into a small hall with a coat rack, wall mirror and small bench on the left. He turned right and was led into the living room.
"Would you like something to drink?" smiled Kitiona.
"Sure, I'll have a beer, if you have any," he said.
"I have a Samoan beer called Vailima," Kitiona offered. "My friends at home really like our native beer.”
"The
