Chapter 8

"What time are we meeting CJ and Toby?" he asks me, as we lay tangled up together in bed. I could get used to this pretty easily.

"Eleven, for brunch." Of course, I'm hungry now.

"That's four hours away."

"Yes it is," I say, kissing his chest, lightly raking my fingernails over his stomach. He has a ticklish spot I'm a pretty big fan of on the right side of his stomach, right where stomach turns to side. I go over that place repeatedly, making him jerk just a little. "What if one of them calls your room?"

"I put a do not disturb on the phone in my room and brought my cell," he says, smugly.

I prop myself up on my hands over him and kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're very smart."

"Yes, that's true."

"And very humble," I say, kissing his jaw.

"Yes, that too."

"And what if CJ stops by here, humble man?"

"All my clothes are in a pile, I grab them and hide in the bathtub," he says, putting his arms around me and pulling me flush to his body. We both groan a little.

"The bathtub, not the bathroom?"

"No, she could walk in there."

"But probably won't get in the tub."

"I can't imagine why she would."

"Well, that should be fun to watch, should it happen. You naked in the shower, CJ opening the curtain and screaming."

"She might scream, but secretly she'd like it."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yep."

I roll off him and pick up the covers, looking down at his body. "Yeah, you're probably right." At that, he rolls over on top of me and there's no talking for a while.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

After brunch, CJ and I go shopping on the boardwalk while Toby goes back to bed after staying up till 9am playing blackjack. This leaves Josh to fend for himself, which scares me as much as it does you. What scares me even more is that he doesn't even whine to come with us. He says he's going to spend the day redeeming himself at the poker table. I have a feeling he's going to spend the day losing money at the poker table, but that's just my opinion.

I smile and wave as CJ and I leave, ignoring the pitiful look on his face that says he'd rather be in bed with me than on his own for the day, but he'll be fine; we have the whole night to ourselves. CJ and Toby are going to see the Beach Boys. They bought tickets a few weeks ago, but by the time Leo convinced Josh it was alright to take four days off in a row, the concert was sold out. We've discussed many options for the evening, but I think we've decided on room service and sex.

Anyway, CJ and I walk up and down the boardwalk going into all the little shops. I love stuff like this. Shell necklaces, sharks teeth, t-shirts that say 'I lost my ass in Atlantic City', fake marriage certificates, snow globes of the city, decks of cards...

Did I just say fake marriage certificates? I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn around. CJ's a few rows away from me trying on silly hats, so I head back to the fake marriage certificates. This is it. I can't believe it. This is our marriage certificate. Signed by Arthur Van Delay. All you do is fill out the names, there are even directions that show you how to put it through your printer. I can't believe whoever married us got our marriage certificate at The Seaside Gift Shop in the same row as the bumper stickers. How pathetic is that?

"What are you looking at?" CJ asks, coming up behind me. Aaaahhhhh!

"Uh, nothing. Did you see the shot glasses? I was gonna buy one for Carol. She loves shot glasses."

"She does?"

"Oh yeah, she's big into them." That's not true. I can't even lie well. What happens when we get back and I give Carol a tacky shot glass and she makes a comment to CJ about what a crappy gift it is? What do I do then?

"Well. What do you know… they're over there," she says pointing towards the other end of the store.

"Great, let's go pick one out," I say, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her along with me.

Twenty minutes and one shot glass later, we go to the Atlantic City Outlets on the boardwalk. It's awesome! They have Liz Claiborne, Guess, Nautica, Casual Corner, Banana Republic, Coach, Kenneth Cole, and Mikasa, as well as other stores I couldn't care less about. Anyway, we spend the rest of the afternoon shopping, spending money we don't have and justifying it by saying it's cheaper because it's outlet. I love outlet shopping!

At four, CJ and I head back to the hotel so she can get ready for her concert. She's been talking about Brian Wilson all afternoon. Whatever…

After leaving her, I go back to my room, where I find that I have a message on my hotel voice mail telling me to dress nice and meet Josh in his room at 6:00 for a night of romance Lyman style. Romance Lyman style? Why does that worry me?

Luckily, I bought a new dress this afternoon. It's a white spaghetti strap dress with mauve roses on it starting on my right leg mid-thigh and trailing down in a curvy angle to my left ankle. It ends right at the top of my feet and has a swoop down back. White isn't always appropriate to wear, but it was pretty cheap and elegant looking, and I always need dresses for state dinners and formal parties at the White House. And since I'm a girl on a budget, I buy them when I get the chance. I can't afford a $500 dress every few months. And this was only $90 bucks cause we're six weeks past Labor Day. Have I mentioned that I love outlet shopping?

So anyway, I shower and put my hair up with little twirly things hanging down, and then hold the dress up and admire myself in the mirror. Whoa. I look a little brideish like that, and I don't think we need that. I think I'll just wear my hair down tonight. I redo my hair, with a few curls and some waves and throw on my new dress and… uh oh.

I don't have any shoes. I mean, yeah I have shoes. Black heals and gym shoes; neither of those are going to be appropriate with this dress. I'm bummed. I look hot in this dress. What? I do.

I look over at the clock. It's 5:35, twenty-five minutes. Can I get to the outlet mall and back, and if I do, can I find white shoes in early October? I can do it. I'm a woman on a mission. Clothes cannot beat me.

I call the front desk and tell them I'm on my way down and need a cab waiting for me. Six minutes later, I'm at the mall. I don't have time to play games, so I head directly into the Factory Brand Shoes and scan for dress shoes. Once I find those, I only see two pair of white shoesI'd be caught dead in, and only one of those is in my size. Well, that was a pretty easy decision to make.

I get back to my room at 6:02, slip into my dress and shoes, do a hair and make-up touch up and I'm in the elevator on my way to Josh's room only 7 minutes late. I'm impressed with myself. Donna Moss, shopper extraordinaire.

I knock on the door for my first and last date with Josh Lyman, and I admit to having some butterflies in my stomach. But that's nothing compared to the feeling in my stomach when he opens the door wearing a tuxedo. Josh Lyman and tuxedo can only add up to good things. My eyes widen and it gets a bit hard to breathe, because Josh is standing in his doorway wearing a tux and holding a single rose, which he hands to me before saying in a low voice, "You're breathtaking."

I can't help getting a huge smile on my face, so I don't bother trying to hide it. "So, this is romance Lyman style?"

"This is just the beginning," he says, pulling me inside his room. The lights are off in the bedroom, the only light coming from the bathroom. Somehow, it's the perfect amount. His curtains are pulled back, giving us a wonderful view of the boardwalk and the ocean, and there's music playing on his radio. Without so much as a word, he pulls me to the center of his room and we start dancing.

Josh is a great dancer, regardless of CJ's joke last night. The thing is, Josh isn't such a great contemporary dancer. But to classical, with a woman in his arms, he's very charming. We dance in silence for a few minutes, and I find myself deliriously happy that The Beach Boys sold out.

We dance until 6:30, when there's a knock at the door. When he answers, a waiter comes in with dinner, which he places on a table that must've been brought in earlier. There's a vase on it with another single rose, and the food is covered with silver covers. When he leaves, Josh takes my hand and we sit down to eat.

When he pulls the cover off my side, I'm looking down into an awesome looking salad, some broccoli and a lobster tail that's already been taken out of the shell. I look up at him and I can't off wipe this ridiculous looking smile that's been on my face since the second he opened the door. "This looks incredible."

"So, do you like romance Lyman style?" he asks me with a grin of his own.

"I do indeed. You've been very busy today."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," he says with a wink.

We sit and talk about nothing and everything, and when we're done with dinner, he pulls another tray over, pulling the lid off it and revealing some sinfully amazing looking chocolate desert thingy. He picks up a spoon and puts a bite up to my face. How sexy is that? My smile widens and I close my eyes and open my mouth so he can feed me.

"Wow," he whispers, not giving me the bite.

"What?" I ask, eyes still closed.

"With your eyes closed and your mouth open like that, I'm finding it hard not to drop this spoon, pick you up and carry you to bed."

I open my eyes and look directly at him. "I wouldn't really have a problem with that."

He gives me the bite and then does in fact put the spoon down and come over to my chair. But instead of taking me to bed, he whispers, "Dance with me again." How do you say no to that, and more importantly, why would you want to?

We dance and kiss, and kiss some more. "You taste good," he says to me.

"I think that's the chocolate," I whisper back.

When I say that, he starts laying open mouth kisses on my neck and collarbone. "Nope, it's you," he says a few minutes later when he pauses to come back to my face.

We dance and kiss for a while longer, and then he pulls back and looks at me. "If I found a way for us to be together now, would you want that?"

I can't believe he even needs to ask me that. "More than anything."

We start dancing again, and he leans in and kisses my ear, then whispers, "I found a way."

What? I pull him even closer to me, so my lips are aligned to his ear and his lips to mine. I'm very quiet for a minute, and then I whisper, "Would it hurt your career?" That's not an option. He lives for politics.

"No. A few scuffles maybe, nothing major."

I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye and try desperately not to break down. "Promise?"

"I promise. I just need you to trust me."

"Does it include my resignation?"

"I don't think so, but it's a possibility," he says, his lips barely grazing my ear as he whispers.

We keep dancing but I don't say anything. I can't. There are a million things going through my head and I'm not sure I can voice them. So instead, I bury my head in his neck and try desperately not to break down…again. I love my job, but it in no way compares being with Josh. I would've quit a month after I started if he'd asked me to be with him instead. But it's never been that easy. Even if I had quit to date him, it would've looked bad. Maybe not so much now, since it's been so long, but there always seems to be a reason to wait. The question is, am I willing to keep waiting for this?

This… this is all I've wanted for years. But standing here, I'm finding it hard to believe we can really be together. It's like after all this time, I just can't bear to believe in it and then find out we're wrong. I can't keep breaking my own heart. It's killing me. But how can I do anything else. I'm not really alive without him. I'm just going through motions.

Finally, I take a deep breath and lift my head again so I can whisper in his ear, "I trust you."

When I say that, he spins us and dips me and I can't help laughing, and he's laughing and smiling too. "So romance Lyman, what's the plan?"

And without lifting me back up, he smiles his dimpled smile and says, "Marry me."