2011-04-25: Layover in Chicago



Date: April 25, 2011


A change of scenery doesn't always help.

"Layover in Chicago"

Grant Park

"I don't know," George muses, hands in pockets as he leans back against a tree trunk. "I mean, why block off a big open area and then break it up like that?"

Central Park it isn't. The waterfront is too close, and the rail lines are above ground, and there's a fountain right in the middle of it. No, he's been dragged to Chicago for a few days - something to do with TSA regulations, O'Hare better placed for a nationwide hub than JFK - but for once, he's not the center of attention. At least not until his fifteen minutes the following morning.

Evette looks around the park for a few moments as moves with him a bit. She's always there with that schedule. "I've never been to the Windy City, but.." She wrinkles up her nose. "It doesn't seem the right set up, you know? I like Central Park or the Mall in DC." There are a few types upon her phone as she alters some meetings. "Well.. we are here. So what should we do before we have to rush back?"

Now there's a question she hasn't gotten to ask very often. Usually the day is pretty carefully planned— things end up slipping, but at least there is a plan. "I don't know," George replies, waving an arm in the general direction of Willis Tower, "somewhere off in that direction until we find something? Last time I was here was about fifteen years ago. And I— wasn't exactly paying attention to the city." Ah, the mysterious college years.

Evette chuckles softly. "Well then, to the city we should go." Her lips curve easily to that. "Would you like me to come up with fake names for us? We could totally be under the radar and anyone we wanted to be here." She's just kidding with him, but she moves to try and loop her arm through his; if allowed. "So let's walk that way."

He allows it… but there's that slight level of tension that stands in the way of calling it comfortable. Last month's admission may have been swept under the rug, but the noticeable bump in the rug can only be ignored for so long.

"Probably more trouble than it's worth." Just in case she wasn't kidding. "First names, though, it's not like a lot of people here are going to recognize—" Naturally, that's precisely the moment when another man walking the other way does just that, Yankees cap only partly obscured by a shock of dark curly hair as he barges up with a handshake and a steady stream of patter. Hey-what're-you-doin'-here, how-'bout-them-Cubs-fans-bunch-o'-losers-am-I-right, hey-don't-lemme-take-ya-away-from-th'-missus.

Evette has her arm through his. The admission hasn't really gone unnoticed by anyone. Eve has been less on him twenty-four seven. She blinks as the man comes up and shakes George's hand. She gives her most brilliant and political smile. Evie was meant to be on a high powered man's arm, or be high powered in her own right. "The Cubs are doing wonderfully. Don't you agree, George?" Do the Cubs ever really do good?

George shrugs, not bothering to correct the understandable mistake. "Eh, what's a hundred years between friends, right?" He's a Mets fan himself, but he doesn't point that out to the guy, either: just returns the handshake, and then offers a wave as he heads off— to catch up with his own family, as it turns out, wife and teenager waiting up for him at a nearby traffic light. Only after he leaves earshot does George shake his head. "That's just going to keep happening, isn't it," he muses.

Evette nods her head with a bright smile. "Probably. I mean that's what you get for being a great man and all that." She tips her head to study him for a few. "Maybe we can get you into People's most hundred gorgeous people or something."

"I think it's about four years too late for that," says George, eyeing traffic as they head across a different crosswalk and back into the city proper. "And you are not helping. I swear, some days I wonder if you really are trying to sabotage things after all." Now he's the one kidding around— right?

Evette smirks. "Well somedays I just like to throw you a loop. I mean think about it. George Dawson most sexy man in politics." She chuckles. She chuckles because it's funny not impossible right. "What is four years too late?"

George shakes his head. "Oh, nothing." Certain… resemblances… have drifted over time. "Besides, the last guy to hold the undisputed title was Kennedy, and I've got better things to do than set myself up for that comparison. But I'll definitely throw your name in the hat for Miss Congeniality," he adds, deadpan.

Evette shakes her head. "Miss Congeniality is more like when you don't even get in the running. However, she's a good lose…." Evette clears her throat as she tips her head. "Oh, I would vote for you." She leans into his arm a bit to that. "Would you vote for me?" She gives her most gorgeous smile.

And there it is again, the running gag that was already old and tired even before she admitted that it wasn't just a gag after all. Logically, he should cut her off. Logically, he should have cut her loose a month ago and been done with it.

Something has been interfering with logic.

Interfering, not completely subverting. "I'm going to have to plead the Fifth on that one," he teases back, only drawing away a couple of seconds later. "The real winners are the dress designers anyway, and you can drop that joke ahead of time, thank you."

Evette watches him for a moment and then laughs. "I'm going to take that as a no to the vote." There is something humorous in her eyes. "Sooo.." She releases his arm as well. "Talk to Alexandra yet?" It has been a while by now. There is a smirk. "The pretty dresses are not that comfortable."

Well, so much for humor. "Left her a couple messages." George shrugs. "She's been busy, I've been busy— hard to say, at this point. She hasn't outright told me to go to hell." And yet… and yet. There's still that echo in the back of his mind, quiet for now. But building.

Evette puts a sympathetic hand on his arm. "Maybe you should just end it instead of letting it linger." She shrugs uncertain as her hand falls away. There is more she wants to say, but she doesn't. So she clears her throat. "I'm thinking we should check out Sears tower too."

For a moment, his eyes narrow. This is far from the first time Evette has chimed in on that subject, either: she says 'maybe', but George figures he knows how strongly she really feels about it. Still, there's that nagging feeling that holds him back from flat-out contradicting her— because what if she's right? It's not the first time a relationship has seemed like it should work, only to not. He just falls quiet for the time being, turning his attention forward and outward instead. Plenty of opportunities to go be distracted for an hour or two.

Evette is waiting for the argument. She's use to hearing it. So it surprises her when there is silence, especially after she stated in interest in him. For the longest moment, she just looks at him. "If it was important to her she would have called." Eve would have called back. "If it was truly important to you, you wouldn't be walking around Chicago right now. You'd make it happen that you ran into her by now." She shrugs. "Soooo.. I have never been to Chi-Town." She gives a chipper tone to her voice. "Show me everything. We are not leaving until we hit one Jazz club though. It has to be great here too. Oh! And a blues one. I hear they have their own Blue Note here."

I can't pull off everything at once, he thinks to himself, but doesn't get as far as voicing out loud. There's nothing to be gained by drawing out the argument— and plenty to be lost, depending on just how it goes. Evette is important to him—

Again, the voice in the back of his mind tries to speak up, and is promptly quashed. It'll have to wait till later, when his guard is down. "Like I said, I don't know much, but I'll see what I can remember. Things may have changed since the last time, too." The conversation goes on in that vein, even as a nearby car horn attempts to drown it out. At least something is the same as back in New York.

Evette is important to him? One day she may actually learn this fact. Or maybe she won't. Eve turns her eyes towards him for a few moments. She studies his profile through the conversation. What is she doing? Why hasn't she left? Why is she drawn to him? The questions run over in her own mind. She's already put her everything on the line and for what? She's risking her career. It's not like Alexandra is going to let her stay on board or stop causing issues. It's not like she wants to walk away. However, why is she risking it?

The answers evade her normally well constructed mind. Everything has a place. Every thought and feeling has a reason. She has never made a choice that didn't help her career. Nor one that she wasn't assured victory. Evie has never been a fly by night, caution to the wind kind of girl. So what is different? She has her own nagging voice in the back of her mind. The one she will not give voice to. The one that she drowns out with reason. The one that keeps nagging for everything around. Afterall, what is the one thing and reason a smart woman would risk everything on something she thinks she has no chance to claim? —- An answer she doesn't want.

So in the meantime she's more human with him. It's as if her momentary show of her flaws have made her less of a bitch. She's friendly, she laughs and she's calm. In Chicago, it is almost a view on if they would have met a different manner, before Alex. She's friendly and borders on funny.. but most importantly, she's relaxed when it is just him. So a Chicago trip may be just what the doctor ordered…. or fate threw in to eff things up even more.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License