News Story Ch. 07

The floor in here is wooden slats. The walls are half brick, up from the floor, and the other half is stucco up to the ceiling. Behind two open doors I see two long hallways radiating away from the banquet room. I can see three other doors that are closed. To the left are two large buffet tables. The steel food trays are there covered with steel lids. I can see blue flame flickering underneath several of the trays. There are wisps of steam popping out from under a few of the lids.

Brent says, "The Senator has not yet arrived. It seems we actually had time to frolic some more; how about you and me on a table over there in the corner?"

I whisper back to him, "Don't tempt me. It's dark in here and the tables -- they look fairly sturdy. Do you think we would annoy the guests?" I answer my own question. "Well, maybe but keep that thought! Where's the Senator?"

"The Senator will not ever arrive at a dinner party until all the guests have arrived. It's not stylish. There is one more couple yet to arrive: one of the ministers from the Mongolian embassy." That amuses me; we had just spent a couple of days at a Mongol harem!

The entry door opens and the attendant walks in with another couple. He declares, "Excuse me, everyone, excuse me please." I am admiring the table settings and the décor; I am not paying attention to the newly arrived guests. The room gets quiet.

The attendant announces, "Please welcome Mr. Hamid Villankahn with his companion, Jasmine." That catches my attention! I look to the entryway and see them walk in. Jasmine looks gorgeous dressed in a long Mongolian gown: even in this darkness I can see the color array of her dress. It is fabulous. Hamid looks strong and virile, just as I remember him.

Brent softly jabs me and whispers in my ear, "Quit drooling!"

I discretely slap his arm. "I'm not drooling. What are they doing here? Are they gonna squeal?"

"Oh no, not at all. Hamid got this dinner invitation set up for us. Obviously, he has connections that neither Mark nor I have! And I'm sure he wanted a little more of your action, too. He undoubtedly has never had someone like you. Do you know how much he paid for you at that auction?"

I would like to know how much, but I portray embarrassment instead, "Shut up! We're here on assignment." I look back toward Jasmine and Hamid. "I'm surprised to see them. Why did he bring Jasmine?"

"She is the Deputy Minister. Hamid is her escort. He is someone she likes to keep around; you might say Hamid is Jasmine's 'handy man'." Brent walks to Hamid. I stand there still shocked and confused. Brent and Hamid bow to each other, and then grasp hands in a solid handshake.

Jasmine walks to me smiling as big as can be. "Good evening, Jean. So good to see you again, yes?" She bows and offers her hand for shaking; I bow in return and shake her hand.

I am pleased to see her. "Yes, I am very surprised to see you here. No one told me you were going to be here -- or Hamid for that matter."

Jasmine laughs. "You see Hamid, yes?" I nod. "You no have. He my husband! He no speak English. So sorry -- fantasy time over!"

I am surprised again and now I am genuinely embarrassed! What more am I going to find out tonight?

Jasmine says, "Please excuse, I go to talk with others. Have good dinner. Maybe we see each other again, yes?"

"That would be nice; I'm happy to see you again, Jasmine." She looks at me with a bit of snootiness, turns and walks away.

It is just a couple of more minutes and the attendant opens the doors once again. He walks in with a single man. This must be the Senator. He declares, "Excuse me, everyone, excuse me please." The place goes silent immediately.

The attendant announces, "Please welcome Senator Melvin Johnson." The attendant immediately turns, leaves and closes the door behind him. The Senator has not brought a date with him.

The guests lightly applaud as the Senator walks in, motioning with his hand he pleads, "Please, not necessary. I am so glad to be here. I am very happy you could attend. Please, continue to mingle -- we will be eating momentarily." The Senator has the look of a football linebacker: strong and lean. He walks with an air of authority. I am surprised he does not have a lady friend with him. I had heard he was not married; he certainly must be one of the most eligible bachelors in Washington.

The second he stops speaking several people dressed all in white come out of a door just behind the buffet. They look around then approach people as if they are on a mission; they are. One man comes up to me and says, "Miss Meredith, please come with me. We will be seating you for dinner." He offers his arm to me.

"Thank you," I reply and hold his arm with my hand. I need to come to Washington more often. This is the kind of treatment I like.

He walks to the table opposite the buffet and seats me on the third table setting. There are eight settings on this table. Right behind us is another man escorting Brent to sit beside me at the second position; Brent stands behind the chair. A few seconds later, another man escorts a lady who is seated on the other side of Brent. He takes no notice of her; he just stares out across the room. Two other couples are escorted to our table leaving an empty seat next to me. The men stand and the ladies are seated.

The men in white all scurry about getting the guests seated except for the Senator; he is still standing in the middle of the room. The men in white all retreat to the buffet table standing behind it.

He speaks, "Again, let me welcome you all to this little dinner. I'm so glad you could all come. I hope we can be friends tonight and talk about fun things. Leave the business of the day for the day time. Let's fellowship now and get better acquainted, shall we? I will do my best to make sure I don't miss anyone before we are done this evening. But first, let's enjoy the meal the club has prepared for us." With that he walks around the perimeter of the room to our table. He stands behind the chair and commands, "Gentlemen, please be seated." The men all sit.

One of the men in white comes back to our table and says, "Please follow me to the buffet. After you are seated again, we will serve the beverages."

We all stand. Brent offers his arm to the lady on his right. Confused, I begin to say something when the Senator taps my arm. He offers his arm to me and politely asks, "May I have the honor?"

I am taken aback but brace myself in an instant. "Thank you, Senator. The honor is mine." We walk from behind the table and on to the buffet.

"I would like to introduce myself -- Melvin Johnson -- politician, concerned citizen, outdoor enthusiast, activist and, currently, United States Senator." Interesting -- a five tick point resume. He thrusts his hand out; I daintily put mine into his and we shake.

"Pleased to meet you, Senator -- I am Jean Meredith."

"Excellent, Jean. How are you enjoying the city of Washington? Is this your first visit to the capital?"

"Yes, it is! The city is magnificent. I walked around the mall all morning just taking in the monuments and memorials. It is breathtaking."

"I know what you mean. I had not been here before my first term. In the last six years, I have grown very fond of the city. Still, I miss the country -- walking in the forest -- sitting by the creeks -- camping under the stars; I am a country boy at heart."

"Really? I did not know that. You were very young when you were first elected."

"Yes. I was thirty-six, just one year past the minimally required constitutional age. It's been tumultuous ever since. Ah, hear we are. May I have your plate please?" I hand it to him. "Let's see what we have to eat."

He looks over the buffet and begins dropping helpings onto his plate. Without skipping a beat he asks me, "What would you like? I will get it for you."

I look ahead of me, Brent is filling the plate for the lady he is escorting -- this must be the way it is done. I need to come to Washington more often. This is the kind of treatment I like.

"I will have some green beans, and, is that grilled pork? A small slice would be good. And I would like to have a little corn casserole and a little pasta salad -- not too much, please. It all looks just too delicious. Thank you, Senator."

"You're welcome, Jean." He sets his plate down, takes my plate and fills it exactly as I requested. He picks up his own plate and says, "Let's go back and be seated, shall we."

I try to pick up our conversation where we left off, "So, you are only forty-one or --two now? That is still very young for the average Senator. What's the secret of your success?"

"It's simple; I have the best staff. My people are on top of everything. It's almost like they don't need me around. This is a very busy job I have here and I wouldn't be able to survive without them. The office functions effortlessly even when I'm not around!"

"Do you really think your staff is special? At this level, I would think everyone has to have an above-average staff to survive."

"Yes that is true. However, if you're lucky enough, as I have been, to get several extra-sharp people, then it pays dividends in the long run. I am always prepared for votes, I am briefed on my committee duties and my schedule is run with impeccable precision." He pauses as we approach our seats. "Well, here we are." He sets the plates down, pulls out my chair and seats me.

"Thank you, Senator." He gently pushes the chair forward.

"You are most welcome, Jean."

Just then, Brent and his lady come back to the table. Likewise he sets their plates down and seats her. He turns to me and says, "Jean, please let me introduce you to Christine Zimmerman." He nods back to her; she extends her hand and we shake. "Christine, this is Jean Meredith."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jean."

"Nice to meet you too, Christine."

Brent interjects, "Christine is the Senator's Chief of Staff."

"That's wonderful! The Senator has been ultra-complementary when speaking of his staff. He has given you all the credit for his success."

"The Senator is modest. We do our job, but he is still at the helm making the big decisions, participating in the debates and crafting the solutions. We fill in the blanks and follow-up on the details." I suddenly get the feeling that I am listening to a campaign speech.

"From all appearances you and the staff are doing an outstanding job. I find it amazing that the Senator is so young and already in his second term. You all have already gone through two successful election cycles."

"The Senator has a lot to offer to his state and to the country. That makes it so much easier when you have a message and viable solutions."

Brent takes his seat and asks Christine about her food selections. That was my signal to attend back to the Senator; and not a moment too soon. The Chief of Staff is making me nauseous with her bubbly endorsement of the Senator; she needs to save that stuff for the next election campaign.

The Senator and I resume our discussion as we enjoy the fine food.

***

The waiters have cleared the tables leaving only our drinks. The orchestra begins playing again. The Senator stands while holding my hand, "May I have the honor of your presence on the dance floor?"

I stand and reply, "Certainly, Senator." We walk out to the dance area. Several other couples are joining us and the others who were already there. The Senator puts his hand on my waist and continues holding my opposite hand as we begin to dance.

"Jean, dinner was excellent, don't you think?" So, here is a fellow who is among the most powerful in the entire country, and he is asking me about dinner. He is not so intimidating standing here holding onto me as we dance; maybe he is just another guy.

"Senator, It's been a while since I've had such a good dinner. Everything was delicious."

"Tell me. What it is that you do when you aren't visiting us here in the capital?"

I think to myself: be brief, Jean; do not talk about yourself; you are here to talk about the Senator. "I've just graduated from college. I started working as a newspaper reporter just a couple of weeks ago for a small local paper."

"That's outstanding. So many graduates are having difficulty finding any work nowadays. I really feel badly for them."

"It's been challenging. My first front page story will be published this week." Why did I volunteer that? Senator, please do not ask me what the story is about. I do not want to talk about the 'Man's World' fantasy enterprise tonight. That is not why we are here!

"What is your story about?"

Augh! It is my fault: I opened the door and he jumped right in. "It's about a new business that's moved into town. It has appealed to a client base that stretches over many states. I wrote a story describing their services and the mindsets of their customer base." Please do not follow-up.

"What services do they provide?"

Augh! He is doing this on purpose -- I just know it! "I really cannot tell you before the story is published. That would be an unethical breach of my client's privacy and the editor's proprietary ownership of the story." He is not going to fall for that stupid excuse is he?

"Okay, I understand." Huh? Where is the follow-up question, Senator? "But it sounds wonderful, Jean. I am so glad you are succeeding so early in your career. You must be proud."

Enough about me, Senator, let us talk about you. "Senator, if you don't mind me asking, how do you cope with the everyday grind here: voting, keeping track of bills, writing bills, debating, committee meetings and everything else that goes with it?"

"The staff keeps me up-to-date on the details. I am a champion debater, but not a lot of that goes on during Senate proceedings. The decorum only allows the most civil discussions. We roll out the punches on the Sunday news shows!" He chuckles.

I smile and go on, "How about the lobbyists? I've heard that one of your lobbyists has a company that is filing for bankruptcy. There is a lot of money involved. What's up with that?"

The Senator looks confused, "What are you asking? I'm not aware of any bankruptcies like that. Your information must not be accurate?"

"Dixon Engineering out of Orlando, Senator, haven't they filed for bankruptcy?"

"Oh, Jean, your information is definitely not any good. Christine has just spent a few days with the boys at Dixon. Everything is going well. She can fill you in." Senator, I would rather that you tell me; I do not want to ask Christine. This is a significant event and a big pile of money is at stake.

"When was the last time you visited Dixon Engineering?"

"I'm not sure, maybe two years ago. I'm not sure, Jean, but Christine would know. I can ask her later. And you've heard they are in bankruptcy. That is amazing. As far as I know, they are sailing along famously!"

The orchestra finishes its number; everyone claps politely. Brent joins us and asks the Senator, "May I break in, Senator, and dance with my girl?"

"Yes, Brent, my apologies for monopolizing her time!" the Senator looks at me, "Thank you for the dance, Jean, I thoroughly enjoyed it."

"Thank you, Senator." He walks back to the table. The orchestra starts playing again. Brent holds me close to him and we began to dance.

I wrap my arms around Brent's neck crossing them behind his head. I lay my head on his shoulder. "Thank you for call me your girl."

Brent snorts and then asks, "What did you and the Senator talk about?"

"Mostly nothing. He's incredibly polite. I've relished in his valiant courtesy. Otherwise, this guy is a buffoon. He ought to run for President. I have never heard someone talk so long and say so little in all my life. Do you think he's being coy?"

"Maybe. I've been talking to Christine. She is very, very evasive but I've managed to find out a couple of things. She flinched when I asked about the bankruptcies. They've been buried in the press. For someone like me, who is so close to the Senator, to know about them has made her nervous. We will be dancing in a few minutes; I have a few more lines of questions to ask. It will be interesting. I'm not so sure about the Senator and being coy -- he may very well be a buffoon. But you need to be diligent."

"Don't scare me, Brent. I'm not as cool as you are."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." He strokes the hair on the back of my head. "Anything else?"

"He did say he thought Dixon Engineering was in business and chugging along. I think he used the word 'famously'. He says he hasn't visited in a couple of years. But he says Christine was just there. You might want to ask her about that? The Senator said that she had a good ole' time with the boys!"

"That is interesting. Keep pushing him for information. He's a Senator. He may not break very easily even if he is a buffoon. No one gets the position he has reached without some sort of personal charisma. Try this: say you heard about a new operation called Suns-Up Energy. Tell him you read their by-line. Ask him who you might contact for a job with them. Okay?"

"Yeah. Suns-Up Energy, I got it."

"Are you very sure?"

"What is Suns-Up Energy's product or service?"

"I don't know; I just made them up."

"I will do it. Now let me just hold onto you for a while." I push my body against his as closely as I can.

We continue dancing and holding each other until the music ends. We walk back to the table hand-in-hand.

The Senator is already there talking to Christine. Brent holds the back of Christine's chair and asks, "May I have this dance, Christine?"

"Thank you, Brent, I'd be delighted." She stands and they walk to the dance floor.

The Senator says, "Would you like to dance some more?"

I timidly ask, "Can we stay here and talk for a while?"

"Sure, that's okay with me."

A waiter walks up and refills our water glasses. "Any drinks for you, ma'am?"

"No, thank you."

"And you, Senator?"

"No, thank you good man. Water will be fine." The waiter goes on to the next table.

The Senator asks, "What shall we talk about?"

"If I may be so bold, I would like to ask you about a job prospect. I read about them not too long ago. They are a government contractor that is listed on your website. The name is Suns-Up Energy."

"Why would a newspaper reporter want a job with an energy company?" He is stalling, I know he is. He is trying to figure out just what Sun's-Up Energy does!

"Do you know what small-town newspaper reporters get paid? Energy is the future! Suns-Up Energy sounds like a good prospect."

The Senator mumbles, "Oh, yeah, Suns-Up Energy. I tell you what, Jean; I will check with the staff and have someone call you in the next couple of days. We should be able to help you out somehow. Is that okay?"

"That would be great! Thank you, Senator." He does not have the foggiest notion about Sun's-Up Energy. But he made a sort of promise to me. That was not a good idea on his part.

Hamid and Jasmine step to the table. The Senator stands and says, "Deputy Minister, you are not leaving already?"

Jasmine responds, "Yes, Senator. We thank you for, uh . . . for hospitality. Yes."

"Why thank you. I was honored to have you here tonight. If you don't mind, please wait a few more minutes in the lobby. I need to speak with you privately for a few minutes before you depart. I will be right there." He extends his hand and shakes with both Jasmine and Hamid.

Jasmine looks at me and says, "Good night, Jean. So nice seeing you."

I respond, "Good night." We shake hands too. Hamid looks at me. I bow and offer my hand. He smiles big and shakes my hand, but does not bow (and I remember that he did pay a handsome price for me at an auction a few days ago); then he walks out into the lobby with Jasmine.

Several guests stop by the table to bid the Senator a good night. It is now about nine-thirty and two thirds of the guests are gone. Brent is over by the buffet talking with Christine.