A Beauty Uncovered

Brody tossed his suit coat over the stool at the kitchen bar and looked for the note Peggy left him every night. He’d bought her nice stationery with an embossed “P” on the front and she’d opted to use it for her daily communications with him.

He found it sitting beside a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen island. He popped one in his mouth and groaned. That woman deserved a raise. He chewed as he flipped open the card.

There’s enchilada casserole in the oven. Picked up your favorite beer at the store today. It’s in the fridge. New sheets on the bed. Mail on your desk. Chris has eaten dinner, don’t let her fool you. You also got a package from your brother.—Peggy

A package from his brother? Frowning, Brody set down the card, went to the fridge for a bottle of microbrew and snatched up another cookie. He carried both of them down the hallway into his study with Chris quick on his heels. On his desk was a stack of various bills, junk mail and a large brown box. The label said it was from his foster brother Xander.

Brody had gone to live with Ken and Molly Eden when he was eleven, only a few months after his father had attacked him. He grew up on their Christmas tree farm in Connecticut with their daughter, Julianne, and a list of other foster children. He considered the Edens and the three other boys that remained on the farm—Wade, Xander and Heath—his true family. Xander and his younger brother, Heath, had come to the farm after their parents were both killed in a car accident. Xander was in the same grade as Brody, just a few months younger. He was currently a Connecticut congressman living in D.C.

He ignored the mail and went straight to the package. It wasn’t his birthday. It was October and far too early for a Christmas present. There was no reason he should be getting a box from Xander, so it was a mystery. Until he ripped the brown paper away to reveal a picture of an inflatable woman.

The torture of brothers never ended. Neither miles nor years would get them off his back about his love life. He knew it would be even worse if they ever learned the truth of it. Brody dropped the box onto his desk and went for his phone.

“This is Langston,” Xander answered.

“You know,” Brody began, skipping the small talk. “I expect this kind of crap from Heath, but not you. You’re supposed to be the sensible, non-controversial one.”

“At the office, absolutely. But the rest of the time, I’m your brother and it is fully within my rights to give you grief about your love life, or lack thereof.”

“You have no room to talk, Xander. When was the last time you actually went on a date?”

“I took Annabelle Hamilton to a reception last week.”

Brody chuckled and sat back on the edge of his desk. “A political fund-raiser?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Doesn’t count. When was the last time you went on a date where you didn’t talk about politics, attend a political event or leave your date stranded alone while you talked to some lobbyist that came up to your table?”

There was a long silence before his brother spoke. “I reject the unreasonable boundaries you’ve placed on my love life. The life of a single congressman is complicated.” Xander said the words with his official man-in-power voice, as though he were addressing a congressional committee.

“That’s what I thought. You should’ve kept that doll for yourself.”

Xander laughed, turning from his phone to say something to someone else. Despite the late hour, he was still at the office. Xander was always at the office.

“Got someone with you?” Brody asked.

“One of my congressional interns. He’s leaving for the night and reminding me about my early appointment tomorrow. I have to give some VIPs from my district a tour of the Capitol building.”

Brody settled into the brown leather loveseat in his office. Chris immediately jumped up beside him, curling up to lie down with her head in his lap. His free hand went to rub her ears. “It’s awfully late to still be at the office. I’d hate to work for you. You’re a mean boss.”

“Not as mean as you are. At least I speak face-to-face with my employees instead of barking at them over an intercom.”

“I pay them well for the inconvenience of dealing with me,” Brody argued.

“That’s fair, I suppose. Mine don’t get paid. It’s the beauty of government internships. I can work their idealistic hearts to death for free so when they graduate college, they will be jaded and fully prepared for a job in public service.”

“You sound run down, Xander. Are you sure you’re up for a campaign and another term?”

“I’ve just had a long day. I don’t have much free time. And I know that both of us aren’t the best at making time to date. Which is why I sent that lovely plastic woman to you. It’s secretly an invitation to a fund-raiser my party is having next week. If I sent you a card, I knew you’d ignore it, but that doll got you on the phone.”

Of course. There was always something behind it. He would’ve ignored an invitation. And he’d ignore this one, too, after he hid it away where Peggy wouldn’t find it and faint. “I’ll mail a check.”

“I don’t want you to mail a check, Brody. I want you to come.”

Oh, yeah, because socializing at a cocktail party with a bunch of strangers was his idea of a good time. He’d jump right on the next train from Boston. Xander knew it, too, so there had to be more to the story than he was telling. “What’s her name?”

“Why would you—?”

“You’re as transparent as Mom.”

Xander sighed heavily into the phone receiver. “Her name is Briana Jessup. Dr. Briana Jessup. I met her a few weeks ago. She’s a plastic surgeon that specializes in reconstructive surgery. She spends several weeks a year in third world countries helping disfigured children.”

Brody listened to his brother talk, but the more words that came out of his mouth, the more irritated he got. “I don’t know which is worse. Thinking you’re fixing me up on a date again or trying to lure me to another doctor.”

“It’s just social,” Xander corrected. “I thought you might be more comfortable with a woman if you knew she had...” His voice trailed away as though he weren’t quite sure how to say it. Xander was always on a mission to find the right way to say things. It made him a great politician. But dealing with him as a brother could be frustrating when everything he said was polished to a point of near insincerity.

“Seen worse?” Brody suggested.

“You know what I mean, man. Don’t get offended.”

Brody took a sip of his beer. He understood what his brother was doing. It wasn’t a bad idea. A woman who had experience with severe injuries like his might not react so negatively to it. She might even touch him, although it might be more for professional curiosity than attraction. It was certainly a better choice than the last woman Xander tried to set him up with. “I’m not offended. I’m just not interested in starting up something with this doctor of yours.”

And he wasn’t. Maybe if Xander had asked him a week ago. But now, his mind was overrun with thoughts of one particular woman touching him. A sunny blonde with luscious curves and an affinity for pink.

“Then are you still upset about the thing with Laura? It’s been three years.”

Brody chuckled into the phone. “Why would I still be upset about Laura? Just because you set me up with a woman that pretended to like me long enough to steal my personal information and charge a hundred-thousand dollars on my credit cards...? I mean, after three years that would be petty of me.”

Xander sighed. “You know I’m sorry about that. She seemed like she really liked you, and I hate that she stole from you. But this other lady is different. I think you’d really like her.”

“I’m too preoccupied for something like that right now. I have my mind on...other things.”

“Are you seeing someone?” Xander asked, his voice laced with an edge of incredulity.

“No,” Brody said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But you’re interested in someone, aren’t you?”

That, Brody couldn’t argue with. He was interested. He didn’t know if that would make any difference in the end, but he was. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sam and what it would feel like to touch her.

“I suppose you could say that....”

* * *

Sam slammed back another shot of espresso from the coffee shop in the lobby, but she wasn’t sure it would help. The first four hadn’t. She was still exhausted. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Her mind kept spinning with the previous day’s developments.

She had started Wednesday irritated with her boss. Brody was demanding, rude and thoughtless of others. By the time she went home, she was intrigued by him. More than that—aroused by him. When she wasn’t lying in bed fantasizing about touching him again, she was plagued with questions.