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

  “Oh…um, yeah…tea cups. Remember this was a secondhand store?”

  Kip nodded.

  “I found this box of tea cups out by the dumpster. Can you believe it? I mean, who would throw out these beautiful old cups? I have a thing for china—always have. When I was little girl my grandmother gave me a real china tea set and I used to play tea party for hours.” Annie poured boiling water from a carafe into a blue and yellow cup and dunked an Earl Grey bag while adding a packet of sugar. “When I was in England last year, I insisted on going to a tea room every day, just so I could see what kind of cup they’d serve it in. And of course, to have a scone with clotted cream. I even bought a few cups while I was there.”

  Annie turned and looked up at Kip, her brown eyes growing larger. “So I thought it would be a nice touch to use them for coffee and tea. You know, when someone comes in we can offer them a drink in these pretty cups and make them feel at home. Personally, I prefer drinking from a real china cup. In fact, that’s the only way I drink tea or coffee.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Porter,” Annie snapped her fingers at Kip’s face. “Are you even listening?”

  “You prefer china over coffee mugs. Got it. Another great idea.”

  “Okay then. I still have brochures and information sheets to set around and then I’ll go pick up the cookies from the bakery down the street. Are you ready? Did you write a speech? I was thinking about a half-hour after people arrive, you should take some time to speak about your platform, your goals, ask for their support, that kind of thing. Someone from the local paper is supposed to be here at 1:30.”

  Kip leaned against the round table and smiled at Annie. “Yes, Coach.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

  “Not really, but I’ve done this before. It’s all good.”

  “I hope so.” Annie rushed toward the conference room door then barked over her shoulder, “Don’t just stand there. We’ve got work to do.”

  An hour after the open house began, the headquarters was filled with local politicians and party members, as well as interested citizens who came out to support Kip in his third run for office. Flash bulbs lit up the room as the press took photos of Kip finishing his speech to rousing applause. He had removed his jacket and loosened his tie as the room filled with more and more people; the air conditioning was not up to the task on this warm July day. Annie was leaning against the wall in the back of the room, watching Kip smile warmly at each of his guests, always with an outstretched hand. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing the muscles in his shoulders and back flexing against the slim-cut dress shirt, or the way the upper sleeves strained across his biceps. He ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair in an attempt to control a wayward lock.

  “Looks like we’re running low on cookies,” said Pam, one of the college interns. The interruption made Annie jump.

  “Oh, let me get those.” Annie hurried into the kitchen, chastising herself for letting her mind get so carried away by Kip’s…assets. She opened the white bakery box and carefully arranged the red, white, and blue iced cookies on the antique silver tray—another find from her mother’s attic—when she felt a brush of air against her neck.

  “Great party, Coach. You outdid yourself,” Kip whispered in her ear, his body so close to hers she could almost feel him. “Let me get that for you.” Kip reached around Annie, coming even closer, and lifted the heavy tray with one hand. Once again her eyes were drawn to his strong, bulging muscles.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled.

  Kip took a step back and held the tray in both hands, looking down at the arrangement. “I was thinking we should go out and celebrate tonight. Today was a huge hit.”

  “Celebrate?”

  “Yeah. You’ve worked really hard…got the press here, even the Baltimore Sun. Several people have promised contributions to the campaign. It’s been really great. We need to celebrate.”

  “Okay. That sounds fun.”

  Kip smiled and pressed close to Annie. She felt her pulse quicken. “Great. Let’s make plans after this is over.”

  “I’ll let the staff know,” Annie said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.

  “I was hoping it would just be the two of us.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. No, but thank you.”

  Kip huffed a lungful of air and walked out of the kitchen, tray in hand. Annie fell back against the countertop, her fingers knotted together and palms sweating. She’d made the right decision. It wasn’t appropriate for her go on what essentially would be a date with her boss, but she couldn’t deny the nearness of him, his tantalizing smile, and his spicy maleness made it difficult to say no. She took another moment to collect herself before rejoining the party.

  “Congressman Porter, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Rene Hoffer and this is my sister, Lori Richardson.” Two attractive, fifty-something women walked up to Kip and Tom as they finished their conversation with the mayor of Shady Beach.

  “Hello, ladies. So nice to meet you. This is my chief of staff, Tom Garrett. Do you live here in Shady Beach?” Kip asked.

  Tom and Kip shook hands with the sisters as Rene replied, “No, actually, I live in Denver and Lori lives in Baltimore. I’m visiting her this week.”

  “We were having lunch down the street and then were looking in some shops, and noticed a party going on,” Lori said.

  “We don’t like to miss a party,” Rene barked with a laugh, teetering on her strappy heels.

  Tom steadied her by grabbing her elbow. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you some rum punch. We’re only serving the straight stuff.”

  “No worries, darling.” Rene opened her Versace bag and exposed a shiny silver flask.

  “We’re always prepared…like Girl Scouts.” The sisters leaned into each other and giggled. “Plus we wanted to check out the store,” Lori said.

  Kip cocked one eyebrow. “The store?”

  Rene laughed and placed her hand on his forearm. “Yes, our grandfather and great-grandfather had a store at this location for several decades. Darlington Hardware.”

  “Oh, of course. I used to go there with my dad when I was young. It must have closed when I was about ten or eleven,” Kip said.

  “That’s right. Well, we’ve been working on our family’s genealogy and discovered through my great-aunt that our great-grandfather was a bootlegger during Prohibition. He sold homemade moonshine to the Washington elite,” Lori whispered, as though revealing a national secret.

  Rene interrupted and once again placed her hand on Kip’s arm. It occurred to Kip that the clearly intoxicated woman might actually need his support to steady herself as she leaned in and spoke just above a hush. “He kept his whiskey stashed in the broom closet in the back room. There was a false wall in the back of the closet that the police never discovered in all that time.”

  “Why are you whispering?” Lori said, releasing a small chuckle. “It’s not like it’s a big secret. Not anymore anyway.”

  “I think you were the only one whispering,” Rene replied.

  Lori turned to Kip and said, “Do you think we could look in the closet to see if the false wall is still there?”

  Kip turned to Tom, a bewildered expression on his face. “Do you know anything about a broom closet?”

  “I think there might be one in the kitchen. We can take a look.” Tom extended his arm, pointing the ladies in the right direction.

  “Now, won’t this be fun? The four of us in a closet. This could get interesting.” Rene reached down and squeezed Kip’s rear-end, making him jump.

  “Whoa there…careful.” Kip took a step back, but Rene followed forward, wrapping her outstretched arms around his waist. “Sorry, darling, you’re just too handsome for your own good.” Kip gently removed her hands and tucked them down by her sides while giving a concerned look at Tom. Tom replied with a nod and a crooked grin, rubbing his fingers together behind his other hand. Kip furrowed his brows with a sli
ght shake of his head, but allowed himself to be led through a doorway toward the back. The sisters twittered and whispered to each other as they followed Kip down a narrow hallway toward the kitchen.

  “There are actually two closets in the kitchen. One is really small, but the other is a walk-in Annie’s set up as a supply closet,” Tom said.

  “I have a marvelous idea. Why don’t you and Lori check out the broom closet while Kip and I investigate the walk-in?” Rene didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled Kip by the hand into the larger space.

  Once inside, Kip pulled out the portable shelving lining the room in search of a trap door or loose wallboard.

  “Can you see anything?” Rene said as she leaned over Kip, who was crouching in a corner.

  “Not yet, but maybe it’s one of those walls you have to tap in just the right place to open,” Kip said, knocking his fist in several places. The potentially historical significance of his campaign headquarters had piqued his interest in spite of himself. “It does sound hollow behind this wall.”

  “Do you have any tools handy?” With a tiny snicker, Rene continued. “Silly question. I’m sure you do.”

  Kip stood and eased around Rene and climbed from behind the shelf. “I’ll get something to pry open the wall.” He walked down the hall to where Tom and Lori were snug inside the empty broom closet. He signaled to Tom to join him in the kitchen. When he did, Kip whispered, “Jesus, she’s all over me back there.”

  “Bro, come on. Financial support can come from anywhere. Just make her happy and then get her to write a check.”

  Kip released a loud sigh and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Where’s a tool kit?”

  Tom opened a few drawers and pulled out a screwdriver, which Kip snatched out of his hand before stalking back toward the supply room.

  “I think if I slide the screwdriver into this space I can force this open.” Using the shank of the screwdriver as leverage, Kip was able to pull up a section of wallboard, revealing an open cavity behind. Once he could get his hand behind the board, he grabbed it and pulled. All at once, the drywall in Kip’s hand gave way and they found themselves looking at the cleverly disguised hiding place with several shelves, about six inches wide. A few dusty ceramic bottles remained. Rene slid in front of him and bent over, pressing her butt against his crotch.

  “Amazing. This is so great,” Rene said. She abruptly rose and turned to face him.

  Kip took a step backward but continued staring into the dark space. “Yeah, it’s amazing these bottles are still here after so long.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the bottles.” Rene stepped closer and deftly unbuckled Kip’s belt as her other hand massaged his inner thighs.

  “Uh…Rene, I—” Kip jumped when he heard a loud crash behind them. He pushed Rene’s hands away and re-buckled his belt. “Take all the time you want in here. I, um…gotta go.” Kip rushed from behind the shelf, nearly tripping over a large stack of paper plates and cups strewn across the floor.

  Nine

  An hour later the campaign office was empty and several volunteers were picking up cups and plates, washing out the punch bowl and sweeping the floor. Even Tom and Kip pitched in to clean the space where so many people had come to show their support for Kip’s re-election bid. Shortly after the supply room debacle, Kip was able to avoid the tipsy twins until they stumbled out the front door. He’d looked throughout the office for Annie, but quickly realized it must have been she who had walked in on Rene’s failed attempt to seduce him and then left in a huff.

  Once the office was cleaned and the last volunteer walked out the back door, Kip sent Annie a text.

  Hey where’d u go?

  He waited several minutes and when he got no reply he tried again.

  The volunteers are going to dinner. U coming?

  Again, with no reply, he finally texted, It’s not what u think.

  Kip took one last look at his silent phone before slamming out the back door. He marched to his Lexus and revved the engine while dialing Annie’s number. It came as no surprise that she didn’t answer, but he hung up and dialed one more time anyway. When she didn’t pick up, he skidded out of the parking lot, gravel flying, and pointed his car toward DC.

  Push, pull. Push, pull. Annie ran the vacuum cleaner over the same spot on the carpet as if she were under a spell. Since arriving home from Shady Beach, she’d been furiously cleaning—not only the living room, kitchen, and her bedroom, but Kate’s as well. Images of that nipped and tucked cougar giving Kip the blow job of his life inside the supply room coursed through her brain. How could he be so reckless? What if a reporter had walked in? What was he thinking? It was one thing to flirt with those old bats to secure campaign financing, but unzipping his pants to get what he needed? Annie flipped off the switch and grabbed a dust rag, feverishly rubbing the top of the coffee table. She wasn’t naïve; she knew all too well this stuff went on, but she never dreamed when she walked into the closet to get more plates and cups she’d find her boss getting sucked off behind the shelves.

  Annie walked into the kitchen and furiously began dropping dishes into the dishwasher. It wasn’t her imagination—she knew what she saw. But earlier she’d seen how he looked at her when she showed him the office. And then in the kitchen he’d leaned in close and seemed disappointed when she suggested the staff join them at the celebratory dinner.

  “I’m an idiot,” she scolded herself. She’d been flattered by his attention, but knew better than to fall for a politician’s charms. Speaking of politicians, Annie felt her phone vibrate and noticed a call coming through from her father. She chose to let it go to voice mail, making it the third message he had left that week. She didn’t want to listen to his sickening sweet rhetoric again. How about we meet for a drink after work this week, honey? I’d love to hear about your new job. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her career with her father. Hi, Annie bug, hope you can make it to brunch tomorrow. She had been avoiding brunch as much as possible. He must have been caught in another compromising situation, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember reading anything online. Surely it would make the news soon…there was no other explanation for his efforts.

  And now she felt déjà vu with her new boss. Were they all alike? How could she work for someone like that? As a campaign manager, she was supposed to believe in the candidate she represented. How could she be expected to tout Kip’s qualities to the public when she had such doubts? Honesty and trust were important to her and she wasn’t about to compromise her principles.

  She’d quit—that was the only answer.

  Annie snapped the dishwasher door shut and fired up her laptop, quickly writing a letter of resignation right then and there. It wasn’t too late for him to find another campaign manager and she could get right back to job hunting. Maybe by now some of the companies she’d applied to would have openings. It wasn’t unheard of to quit two jobs within a couple of months of each other, was it?

  As Annie was pulling the resignation letter out of her printer, the doorbell rang. For what felt like the thousandth time that day, her heart skipped a beat. Who could be bothering her now? She tossed the letter on the kitchen counter and rushed to the door. When she looked through the peep hole she drew in a ragged breath. Kip Porter was standing on the other side of the door, pacing in a circle.

  “What do you want?” she shouted through the door.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “I’m busy.”

  Kip slapped his palm against the door and pressed his eye against the peep hole. “I can stand out here and let your neighbors hear us or you can let me in. Either way, we’re going to talk.”

  Annie turned and threw her back against the door, releasing a pent-up sigh. It looked as though she had no choice but to let the sleaze-ball in. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door, inviting him in with a sweep of her hand.

  Kip stepped into Annie’s living room and looked around at the tastefully designed f
urnishings, taking a moment to study the old movie posters framed on the walls. She stood near the door with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for him to say something.

  “Nice. I like your apartment.”

  Kip’s shirt sleeves were rolled up and he had removed his tie, and Annie noticed his typically groomed hair was a bit disheveled. His hands were tucked deep inside his pants pockets and he seemed to be pushing something on the floor with his toe.

  She was losing patience. “Well?” she said as she grabbed the dust rag and began rubbing the coffee table once more.

  “Well I’ve been texting and calling you.”

  “I turned off my phone.”

  Kip resumed studying something on the floor. “I was hoping we’d still get to go out to celebrate. It was a great turnout.”

  Annie dropped her hands to her sides, forming a fist in each, and marched to the kitchen. “Why aren’t you there?” She pulled a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, splashed a generous amount into a glass and turned around, leaning her elbows on the bar separating the two rooms. She took a long drink. “Oh, yeah, you already celebrated.”

  “No, I helped clean up after the party and came directly here.” Kip walked to the opposite end of the counter. “Can I have one of those?”

  Annie turned in a huff and grabbed a wine glass from the cabinet, then slammed it shut. A puddle of wine sloshed onto the counter as she filled his glass, creating a large stain on the resignation letter. She noticed Kip’s attention drawn to the spill and then to the letter before him. She snatched it up before he could study it any further.

  “I wasn’t talking about going out to dinner. I was talking about the little celebration you received in the supply closet.”

  “What’s that?” Kip grabbed a handful of air as Annie stepped back, the resignation letter firmly in her grasp. Kip walked around the end of the counter, coming within a few inches of Annie. He reached out his hand but she dodged him. “It wasn’t what you think,” he said, once more grabbing at air.