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Anna glanced over at the speedometer and resisted the impulse to look beyond the dashboard. They were on Highway 50 and to be honest she didn’t know if the speed limit was fifty, fifty-five, or sixty-five, but she knew it wasn’t eighty, which was what the speedometer read. Such was life with Mitchell Rapp. It had taken some time, but she was finally learning to sit back, trust, and relax.
“According to the article he’s your boss,” she said.
Rapp hadn’t thought of it that way, but he supposed if he ever bothered to pay attention to those worthless organizational charts that came across his desk from time to time they would indicate that Ross probably was his boss. “He’s a paper pusher, honey. Just another layer of bureaucracy to add to the top of the inverted pyramid.”
This time she looked up at him with her stunning green eyes, smiled, and said, “And you’re Atlas, right, honey?” She reached out to put her hand on the back of his neck. He blinked, but didn’t flinch, which was good. It had taken many months to get him to trust her. Like a dog that was beaten as a puppy, Mitch did not like people touching him.
“Why are you trying to be hurtful?” This was his new ploy with her. Throw the PC mantra back in her face and act like a victim. “I thought we were on the same team.”
She rubbed his neck. “We are, honey. I just like teasing you. So have you met him yet?”
“Who?”
“Ross.”
Rapp was paranoid for a variety of reasons, but he tried to limit it to his professional life. There were times, though, when his very nosy wife liked to blur the line between their personal life and their jobs. He glanced over at his Anna to see if she knew more than she was letting on. “I’ve met him a few times.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What’s your impression of the guy?”
“I don’t know.” Rapp shrugged unconvincingly.
“Do I sense dissension in the ranks?” Her index finger had found a curl and she began wrapping it around her finger.
“Easy, Lois Lane.”
“Do tell,” she pressed. “The article makes it sound like everybody likes the guy. Republicans and Democrats alike.”
“And you believe everything you read in the paper?”
“Until I have proof otherwise…yes.” She turned a little more in her seat so she could face him. “Are you mad because Irene didn’t get the new top job?”
“No.” He frowned. “I like Irene right where she is. She keeps people off my back and makes sure I get what I need. Besides…it remains to be seen how much of the new job is just window dressing.”
Anna raised one of her thin eyebrows. “Is Irene going to be able to keep Ross off your back?”
Rapp glanced over at his wife and smiled. “Not bad for a talking head. I’m very proud of you.”
They passed the National Arboretum on their left and entered a rundown part of the city. Anna gave his hair a quick yank. “Why did I ever marry you?”
Rapp kept his eyes fixed on the road. “Because you have serious control issues and you like a challenge. I’m your Mount Everest and you want to summit me.” He smiled to himself and looked mischievously at his wife. “I like the sound of that. How would you like to summit me tonight?”
“Not with that line.”
“Honey, I think our love is a beautiful thing, and when I express that love I’d appreciate a little reciprocation. You know…I have feelings too.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She laughed. “I have no doubt that I have a few issues, but you saying that I have control issues is like Donald Trump telling someone they have a big ego.”
“Darling,” Rapp’s voice took on a softer, decidedly NPR-esque tone, “remember, any comment that isn’t a positive comment is a cry for help.” He reached over and patted her knee. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m here for you.”
Anna had three brothers and she was no wilting flower. She wound up and punched him on the shoulder.
Rapp began laughing uncontrollably. “Spousal abuse…help!”
She hit him twice more in the arm and was about to hit him for a fourth time when she had a flashback to playing slug bug with her brothers when they were kids. She was in her early thirties, for Christ’s sake. “Oh…Mitchell, why do I let you get to me?”
