"Proposition 8273 passes, 68 to 42!"
Damn. Another defeat. I watched as the opposition shook hands and applauded each other.
There was Kathleen Muller, a brilliant analyst who had just turned the tide against me and passed her bit of policy. Another do-gooder with her heart in the wrong place. Some people just can't believe in evil, even when it surrounds them.
She smiled brightly at her compatriots as they cheered her victory. She was a looker too. She was of slight build, one might say small-breasted, but well-proportioned in an hourglass figure. Her angular facial features were perfectly framed by the wavy brown hair that fell about her shoulders. The skirt of her navy blue suit was well-fitted enough to show off her tight ass, which led down to her mouth-watering thighs. A pair of high heels accentuated her calves. Some lucky bastard he'll be who lands that.
To look at her, to see how happy and sincere she was in victory, you'd almost assume I was on the wrong side. Almost.
As she surveyed the room, her eyes fell on me, and her smile vanished. I looked away. It was time for me to leave anyway and find a pub.
***************
Several hours and more drinks later, I had ended up back at the hotel bar. I was contemplating the shape of shot glasses, when I saw those legs again. Those perfectly shaped, well-dressed legs strolled into the pub and sat down at the bar.
She didn't appear to have seen me.
The strange urge to buy her a drink came into my head. Nah, I shouldn't bother her, I told myself while I continued to ogle her thighs. But today can't get much worse; I'm in a state where I can blame my poor judgment on liquor, should anything go wrong....fuck it.
"Nice job today. You really captured their hearts and minds in there," I offered, although my tone drained all sincerity from the compliment.
The woman shrugged. "Enough of them to pass the proposition," she shot back coolly. I was being a sore loser, but I couldn't help it.
"Yes....um...congratulations," I stammered, "can I buy you a drink?" She took her time responding, studying my face as if trying to decide if it was a real offer or a joke. At last, her mouth broke into that award-winning smile. "No, but let me buy you one," she countered.
Her eyes shone, and again I was taken aback by her loveliness.
I felt a pang of anger. I wanted her. She had everything: the victory today, a successful career, the respect of her colleagues, why should she now get the additional power of my attraction to her?
But of course, I didn't let all that get in the way. "I can live with that," I conceded and
took the seat next to her.
As the drinks were poured, I told her, "I'm still not convinced, you know."
She smirked at me and said,"No, I didn't think you would be. But if you consider..." She then proceeded to reiterate her arguments, the same that I had endured over the last few days. Yet, here in this pub, with nothing at stake, in the setting of this personal conversation between two people, they seemed less foolish. While the chief part of me still knew her plan was doomed to fail, another smaller part acknowledged that with the right people in place, at the right time, there did exist a fleeting chance of success. And that part hoped against hope it would turn out.
When she finished, near the end of our third round, I offered her the compliment. "You know, in this forum," I said gesturing to the surrounding pub, "your logic doesn't seem half as ridiculous." I worried for a moment that my comment would anger her, but she smiled at me reassuringly.
"Well, thank you... I think. Coming from you that probably IS a complement," she replied and I nodded my confirmation.
"Perhaps your arguments only need a different forum as well," she proposed. I raised my eyebrows. I thought of my arguments as those that sound better in a cold conference room than elsewhere, but why not? "Very well, I think the crux of my reasoning hinges upon----"
