Whatever You Call Me (Best Friends Book 2) Read online

  Her cell phone vibrated in her hand and she saw “Dad” emblazoned on the screen.

  Hi honey. How about lunch? his message read.

  She dropped her phone face-down on her lap. Lunch with “the good senator” was the last thing she needed today. She stowed her phone in her purse and released a pent-up breath.

  Annie rehashed the scene in Mr. Wolfe’s office, wondering if she’d done the right thing. Nope, damn it. She had done the right thing. She was sick to death of the special treatment she’d always received because of her father’s powerful position in the senate. This promotion wasn’t the first time.

  She had a professor in college who always mentioned something her father had done or an article he’d read about him. It was because of his infatuation with her father that she had received hateful glances from her fellow classmates and an A in the class—not the grade she deserved.

  The perks of being George Cooper’s daughter didn’t stop with special favors. When she was a child she’d get invited to parties and sleepovers, feeling accepted as part of the popular group. In reality her schoolmates’ parents encouraged the invitations because they liked the idea of their child associating with a senator’s daughter. Those invitations quickly dried up when her father’s indiscretions hit the newspapers. Annie then became the brunt of all their jokes. The ebb and flow of friendships because of her father had carried into adulthood, leaving her suspicious of every new person who came into her life.

  It was during Annie’s college years her father had been caught up in a huge sex scandal involving prostitutes and lobbyists. His powerful political machine was able to spin it, leaving his career intact. Thankfully, for the first time in her life, her friends had stood by her. Emberly and Kate had bolstered her through the humiliation. She would never understand why her mother stayed with him and had said as much to her mom. But she always replied with a line like, “Someday you’ll understand…once you’re married, dear.”

  Annie shook away the memories and took in the scenery around her. She decided she refused to be sucked into the depraved behavior that permeated this town. And to that end, she no longer wanted to carry the name “Cooper.” How liberating would it feel to be anyone else but Senator Cooper’s daughter? She’d often toyed with the idea of going by her middle name, which was her mother’s maiden name. If she was going to make a fresh start in her career, she might as well make a fresh start with her life and become Annie Merriman. Now seemed like the perfect time to celebrate her new identity. Annie pulled out her phone and dialed Kate’s number.

  “What are you doing right now?” she asked as soon as the call connected.

  “Working, what else?” Kate sounded harried as always. “What’s up?”

  “You need to come celebrate with me,” she said, fighting back a surprisingly strong surge of tears. “I quit my job.”

  “What? You quit?”

  “Yep and I need you to come celebrate with me…or commiserate with me. Either one. Can you meet me right now?”

  Kate released an audible sigh. “I can’t. I’m so sorry. Where are you?”

  “I’m standing outside the Independent on 12th Street.”

  “Okay, wait…let me think,” Kate muttered. “I can be there in about forty-five minutes. Can you wait?”

  “Can I wait? I have nothing but time.”

  Two

  Annie raised her glass in salute and drained the pink liquid in one swallow as she nibbled on a plump strawberry while telling an abbreviated version of the tale to the attentive businessman. Several drinks in, she was committed enough to her new identity to alter certain key details—or at the very least, just leave them out altogether. “When I first walked in my boss’s office he was all friendly like, oh, Annie, we wouldn’t want to lose you…you’re an asset to the company…blah, blah, blah. He offered me this bogus promotion, practically forced it on me, and I was like, no way, this is a shady deal and very underhanded. I told him he could take his job and shove it.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “You bet I did…but not in those exact words. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “I’m good.” He gestured toward his beer and burger.

  Annie checked her phone and stood on the barstool rungs to see if Kate was coming through the door. Her left heel slipped off the metal bar and she knocked over her empty cocktail glass. “Oops,” she giggled, as she picked up the glass and signaled to the bartender.

  “Really hitting the hard stuff today. Better slow down a little,” the businessman said.

  “Hell no, I’m not slowing down! I’m just getting started. Today is the first day of the rest of my week.” Annie slammed her hand on the bar with each successive word.

  “You mean the rest of your life.”

  “Oh. You’re right. That’s what I meant. I’m leaving my old self behind and venturing out into a big new world.” She dangled a wet, red maraschino cherry above her mouth and dropped it in like a mother bird feeding its baby. “I love these damn things. They can’t possibly be real cherries, can they? I mean, have you ever seen a cherry this color? Probably full of all kinds of chemicals, sugar, red dye number ten…all the things that will kill us.”

  “You’re living dangerously today, aren’t you?” He moved her box to another barstool and sat in the now empty seat beside her. He reached out his hand. “Hi, I’m Tom. I feel like we’ve met.”

  “Nope, I’d remember you. I have a photographic memory. You have kind eyes and your hair is very distinctive. I’m Annie Coo—Merriman.” She reciprocated his handshake and fell to the task of stirring her fresh drink.

  “Hello Annie Coomerriman, it’s nice to meet you. So tell me why you turned down this promotion?”

  “Merriman,” she said with a lopsided grin on her face. “Just Merriman. And because I have principles, damn it. Everyone in this town is so sleazy, doing favors to get ahead, working their backroom deals. He called it ‘networking’.” With a flick of air quotes, she continued her rant. “I won’t be a part of it. I’m smart, ambitious, well-educated. Isn’t that enough? Does everything have to be you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours? I’m fed up with this town. I’m getting out.” Others in the bar were now staring at the slightly disheveled woman with the bright pink cocktail whose voice carried easily through the half-empty establishment.

  “It can’t be that bad. What do you do…or did you do?”

  “I’m an accountant—a CPA and a damn good one. But I can do so much more, Tom, y’know? Quitting was the best thing, really. Really, really. I’ve wanted to leave for a while…do something more interesting. You know, like work for a non-profit…something that matters. It was a blessing in disguise.” She waved over the bartender and said, “Could you just give me a little bowl of those cherries? They’re wonderful.” The bartender placed the container of cherries in front of Annie and she dove right in.

  “How about you order something more substantial than cherries for lunch?” Tom asked.

  “Not hungry. I just want to eat these cherries. Since I’m starting a new life, I’m doing whatever the hell I want. No more being manipulated, controlled or bribed. It won’t happen again.”

  “I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about, but I admire your determination. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like you’re going to be okay. Where are you going to apply? Do you have a plan?”

  Annie leaned her elbows on the bar and dropped her head in her hands. “No,” she moaned, “I don’t have a plan. This all happened so suddenly.”

  “Well, maybe I can help. I’m actually looking for someone to add to our staff.”

  She popped her head up, a wide smile stretched across her face. “You are? What do you do? What kind of job is it?” She placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him an enthusiastic shake.

  “I’m a…a political consultant.”

  “Oh, God no.” Annie released her grip on his shoulders and took another long drink. No way would she go anywhere near politics
. Politics was what made her lose her job today. She wanted to get out of DC, some place where no one knew who she was, and get as far away from politics as possible.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Look, Tom, I appreciate your offer, but I have no desire to work in politics. I’ve had enough of politicians to last a lifetime.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. Please don’t make a scene and beg. It would be very unbecoming of you to grovel. You’re too dignified for that.”

  Tom’s lips curled into a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Annie noticed he had stopped eating his hamburger and reached over to pull the basket her way. “Mind if I finish this for you?” She didn’t wait for a reply before ripping off a hunk of burger and shoving it in her mouth.

  “Umm…no. I was finished. I thought you weren’t hungry.”

  “I wasn’t.” She muffled her reply with a mouthful of French fries and patted Tom on the shoulder. “Hate to see good food go to waste.”

  With his beer glass empty and his burger commandeered, Tom pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch. “Listen, I’d seriously like to talk to you about this position, you know, when you’re having a better day.” He pulled a cocktail napkin from the dispenser and wrote his name and number below the logo. He slid the napkin across the gleaming wood and winced a bit as Annie’s greasy fingerprints left their mark on the edge. “If for any reason you change your mind, call me. I think you’d be perfect for the job.”

  Three

  The shiny black Escalade flanked by two county sheriff’s deputies swept through the fairground gate, passed a small group of people holding signs and marching in a circle, and then pulled behind the grandstand. A fine mist was rising off the warm gravel after an early morning shower and the sun was beginning to peek through the haze. A half-dozen members of the local press surrounded the rear doors, waiting to get the first shot of the United States Congressman from the state’s 9th District. Kip Porter slowly climbed out of the back seat, buttoning his black blazer while tucking his red, black, and gold tie inside his jacket. He flashed a gleaming smile at the crowd beginning to form around the press corps and waved appreciatively at their thunderous applause. He chose to ignore the angry shouts coming from the protesters along the road.

  Kip was escorted inside the steel building where the annual Four-H county steer competition was taking place. The pungent smell of bovine dung and straw was overpowering inside the warm building. As soon as the blue ribbon was pinned on the fifteen hundred-pound Black Angus, Kip walked toward the animal and stood beside its handler for a photograph. Then he made his way to the strawberry pie baking contest going on in Pavilion Three. Strolling through the throng, shaking hands as he went, Kip’s perpetual smile never wavered. He was in his element—center stage to his adoring constituents. Someone handed him a nine-month-old baby wearing a puffy pink dress. He enthusiastically kissed her on the cheek, swearing to her mother she was the most adorable baby he’d ever seen. He took his time circling the pavilion, admiring every pie as if it were a masterpiece. Photographs of him alongside the winner showed beaming smiles all around.

  The last part of Kip’s appearance involved a brief question-and-answer session with the press beside the FFA booth, where the strong smell of crab meat and frying oil wafted through the air as the club created their famous quarter-pound crab cakes. Before answering questions, he took a bite of a crab cake sandwich, which he then washed down with a gulp of sweet tea.

  “Mm-mm. There’s nothing like an Eastern Shore crab cake. I dare you to find a place that makes them better.”

  An explosion of cheers, whoops, and hollers erupted as Kip wiped the tartar sauce dripping from his chin. “Okay, so I hear you want to ask me a few questions. Who wants to go first?”

  “Don Smith, Baltimore Sun. How do you plan to vote on the Bradley transportation bill?”

  “I plan to vote in favor of the bill, Don. Bradley will support the trucking industry so vital to our state by keeping goods moving and our economy growing.”

  “You’re eligible for re-election next year for your third term. We haven’t heard whether you plan to run. Would you care to tell us your plans?”

  “Sure. I was planning to make a formal announcement next week, but there’s no reason not to say it now.” Kip chuckled. “Yes, I plan to run for Congress again. I feel like there’s so much more to do and I wouldn’t want to abruptly stop the momentum. As you know, I’m sponsoring a bill to bring the expanded east coast oil pipeline through this district, which will bring long-term economic benefits to our region.”

  “Are you concerned at all by the group of protestors outside the gates?”

  “Well, Don, as you can see, that’s a small group and our research shows the majority of folks in this area are excited about the future prospects of the pipeline. The economic benefits certainly outweigh whatever it is that group is protesting. Next?” Kip looked around at the small press contingent and locked eyes on a reporter whose hand was raised.

  “Jerry Mathias, Capital Gazette. A recent poll has you dropping in popularity among thirty-to fifty-year-olds in your district. Some suggest the stat is due in part to the fact that you’re not married. Would you care to comment?”

  Kip shook his dark head and placed his hands on his hips, as his handsome face grew red and his smile wide. “I thought you all just wanted to talk about the issues. Hm, wow, okay. You want to talk about my personal life, huh?”

  “Well?”

  “Okay, Jerry, all I’m going to say is when the right woman comes along, I’m sure I’ll be ready to settle down. That’s it. Now, I’ve got to meet up with the folks down in Sanford Island. Thank you for having me and best of luck with the rest of your fair.”

  The sea of bodies parted and Kip walked back toward his waiting SUV, shaking hands, posing for photos, and eagerly greeting everyone along his path. He climbed into the back seat and immediately removed his blazer, loosened his tie, and opened the top button of his shirt.

  “Damn it. I smell like shit. I can’t go to this Chamber of Commerce mixer smelling like I’ve been riding a bull,” Kip mumbled to himself. He released a pent-up sigh and reached into the black duffle bag in the cargo area behind him. He pulled out a pair of wing tips, a fresh button-down, and another jacket.

  His cell phone began vibrating in his pants pocket and he saw Tom Garrett’s name on his screen, his college best friend-turned-campaign manager and chief of staff. Tom had been with Kip since he first ran for office, and had been by his side ever since.

  “Tom, where the hell are you? It couldn’t possibly be as exciting as where I’ve been.”

  “Wanna bet? How are things down on the farm?” Tom laughed.

  “Smelly, but hey, if it gets me re-elected, I’ll kiss every steer in the state.”

  “I hear ya. So you’ll never guess who I had lunch with today.”

  “Who?”

  “Actually, I ate lunch and she drank hers.”

  Kip chuckled as he re-tied his University of Maryland necktie. “I’ll ask again…who?”

  “Annie Cooper, Senator Cooper’s daughter. She goes by Merriman now.”

  “Oh, is she married?”

  “Not as far as I could tell.”

  “Interesting. How did you end up having lunch with her?”

  Tom’s smugness traveled through the phone. “I’m just one lucky son of a bitch. I was at the Independent eating lunch at the bar. That asshole Connors didn’t show up and I noticed this hot chick sitting two seats over, drinking some tooty-fruity drink, tears streaming down her face. I asked her if she was having a bad day and she just started venting. Turns out she quit her job this morning and is now seeking employment.”

  “Is that so? George Cooper has a daughter who happens to need a job. And did I hear you say she’s hot?”

  “Yeah, bro, smokin’.”

  “Must take after her mother.”

  “True. But wait—it g
ets better. She didn’t seem to remember that we met a couple of years ago at a golf tournament in Bethesda. She and her friends were playing ahead of us and her friend, damn if I can remember her name, just busted my balls all day long. Nothing but a tease. I asked Annie if we’d met before and she said no.”

  Kip slipped into his blazer and finger-combed his thick dark hair back in place. “Okay. Senator Cooper’s daughter is unemployed and hiding her identity for some reason. Duly noted.”

  “You’re not getting this, man.”

  “Getting what?”

  “We need her father to back the pipeline bill—usher it through the Senate Appropriations Committee.”

  Kip heard Tom’s enthusiasm but didn’t know what any of this had to do with Annie Merriman Cooper. “And?”

  “And…let’s hire her. Give her some bogus job so you can get close to her.” Tom sighed heavily when Kip didn’t respond. “Let’s bring her on board as your campaign manager. Keep her busy folding newsletters and sending out mailers. While she does that, you lean in with your famous Kipster charm and woo an introduction to dear old dad out of her.”

  “I get it.” Kip chuckled, continuously amazed at Tom’s cunning mind. “Even though you’re running the campaign, we’ll let her think she’s in charge. Another masterful plan, my friend.”

  When Kip clicked off the call, he watched out the tinted window as small, one-story clapboard houses flashed by, dotting the rural countryside. They reminded him of the home he’d grown up in. His father had been an electrician and his mother a homemaker—a hardworking couple who devoted all their time and energy to creating a better life than they’d had for their three sons. His two younger brothers had joined the military after high school graduation, but Kip received an offer from the University of Maryland to play tight end. That’s where he met Tom, the quarterback. At college, Kip had discovered his leadership abilities and began thinking about a career in politics. Growing up in a ranch-style home in a farming community, and sharing clothes with his brothers, he never would have believed he’d be sitting where he was today: a two-term congressman and chairman of the energy committee. His career was fully on track and a bright political future appeared to be his for the taking.