In Love and Diplomacy

Chapter Three: Room Where It Happens

"But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?
And if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like you've been here before?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?"

- Bastille, "Pompeii"

Chapter Three

The modern townhouse was half hidden behind winding vines and looming palms. The street was quiet as the summer evening meandered down and took in the sights.

Then I honked the car horn.

That was all it took to disrupt the serenity and get Ken to poke her head out the door with a grin.

The door opened more, revealing her figure draped in a thrilling red dress. Hell, she was rocking it. My friend knew how to complement her build and highlight her best features. Kennedy was small, a stark contrast to Oliver's linebacker physique, but the red gown accentuated her curves and seemed to elongate her legs. I was too busy admiring her to feel jealous.

She waved, but she didn't get further than the step before Oliver's hand shot out to pull her back. He pressed a deep kiss to her bold red lips; a picture-perfect moment framed by greenery and the last drops of a setting sun. I glanced away to grant them privacy in their heartfelt farewell. With them, there'd never been a 'honeymoon phase' to eventually wear off. It was just them. But I honked again, hating to rush them, but hating to be late even more.

Kennedy blushed as scarlet as her dress, batting her fiancé away with a look I probably shouldn't have witnessed, and hurrying to my car.

Must be nice.

Oliver's eyes hugged her figure as she departed, but he tore his gaze away long enough to give me a quick nod farewell. I faked an exaggerated gag, pulling a laugh from Oliver. Then he waved and disappeared back into the house.

Kennedy breathlessly slid into the passenger seat. Her cheeks were still rosy. If she added any more red tones to the look, she'd be more cherry than woman.

"You know, if I'd known you'd look like that tonight, I never would've invited you. You can't show me up on my last day," I teased, putting the car in drive.

Kennedy loudly scoffed, gesturing at my own dress. "Don't make me laugh! You say that as if you're not eating it up right now. Green looks hot as hell on you."

I'd gone for a reserved emerald gown and black strappy shoes, but I'd opted for a smaller heel. I was already on the tall side; I didn't need to exaggerate my height any more than it was. Besides, I was hoping to impress at this party. I didn't need to tower over politicians, I needed to pander to their pride. They needed to feel powerful — and I needed connections. I needed approval and allies. I hoped to balance the fine line between 'sexy and mysterious' and 'bold and powerful' that could offer so many opportunities when done correctly.

My plan was to break ground on new foundations for lasting bridges.

Kennedy radiated graceful seduction with her red lips and draped gown. I only hoped I at least radiated elegance. I prayed I looked like a cresting wave, unknown in its power until too late to turn back.

Kennedy leaned down to tighten the straps on her golden heels as we slid onto the highway. I glanced down. "How the hell are you going to walk in those things all night?"

The June sun was starting to dip beneath the horizon, and the road was becoming increasingly draped with reaching shadows.

"I like heels. I don't have much of a problem with them."

"Well, I have a pair of sneakers in the trunk if you need them at any point. Just let me know."

Kennedy laughed. "I'm pretty sure you'll end up wearing them, not me. You hate heels."