“Okay, hon. C’mon. Let’s go up to the office.”
Ten minutes later Ev stood in the door of Georgie’s office, arms folded across her chest, her expression one of concern. She stepped inside, closed the door and leaned against it. “Talk to me, Georgie. Whatever this is, we can fix it. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
Only then did Georgie manage to figure out why everyone was so freaked out. “No! Oh, spittin’ sunflower seeds, no. I’m not pregnant!” She blurted out the denial.
Ev’s arms relaxed and she let out an audible sigh as she crossed the patterned rug to sink into one of the chairs arranged before the desk.
Georgie soldiered on. “I...there were some...anomalies on one of my yearly tests.”
Ev leaned forward, her concern evident. “Which one?”
She swallowed hard, her gaze skittering across Ev’s face. “My doctor...did a biopsy today.”
“Oh, honey.” Ev scooted closer to the desk and reached over to clasp Georgie’s hands. “It’s scary, especially as young as you are. Is there a history in your family?”
Shaking her head, Georgie worked to control the tears swimming in her eyes. “No. It’s so crazy. My dad’s diabetic, but that’s it. That’s the only skeleton in my health closet.”
“There’s a good chance the biopsy will be benign, Georgie.”
“I know. The doctor kept saying he was doing this out of an abundance of caution. It’ll be fine. Women my age...it’s rare. That’s what he said. And it’s just a lump. That’s all.”
Ev squeezed her fisted hands again. “Have you told Clay?”
Panic surged through her. “No. Oh, good gravy, no. I can’t tell him.” Georgie twisted her hands to clasp Ev’s. “You can’t tell him, either. You...you know about his mother, right? About what happened to her?”
The older woman nodded. “Yes, hon. I’ve known Clay and the family for ages. She waited too late to get treatment for her breast cancer. His old man was a bastard about it. Clay nursed her until the end, and then raised his brothers.”
“Then you understand why we can’t tell him. Oh, please, Ev. He can’t know. It’s just a precaution. The results will come back negative and everything will be back to normal. His focus is the campaign. Not me.” Her words tumbled over each other. “Okay? Promise me.”
“I won’t tell him. I suppose there’s no need to worry him if this is a false alarm.”
“Right. Exactly. You know him. He will worry. There’s no need. I’m fine. Really.”
The woman studied her for a long moment. “But I think you’re wrong. I think he’d want to know so he can help you through this. That’s the kind of man he is, Georgie.”
She swallowed the saliva filling her mouth and hugged her arms around her stomach. “He’s perfect, Ev. Too perfect for me. I...won’t make him worry.”
* * *
The day dragged interminably. Clay was on the Hill all day for a series of committee meetings and a session in the Senate chambers. By the time he arrived at her apartment to pick her up for dinner, Georgie had settled her nerves and had an unshakable poker face in place. She forced gaiety into her voice and plastered on a smile. Luckily, two other couples—supporters from home—accompanied them to dinner, and Georgie kept the focus on them and Clay. She was good at her job and she worked their guests hard to divert Clay’s attention. Yet she caught his concerned looks. He knew her. Knew something was off.
After dinner and a long visit over coffee and dessert, the other couples said good-night on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Clay snagged her hand and tugged her along with him. “Let’s walk for a bit.”
She did not want to walk. She did not want to talk. Georgie had every intention of getting Clay home and in bed where she could keep him so distracted he forgot to ask her what was going on. The man was far too astute for her own good, especially now. With reluctance, she followed his lead.
“You going to talk to me?”
“’Bout what?” She feigned innocence, hoping her poker face hadn’t cracked.
“Sweet pea, Hunt is family. You’re family. We look after each other. What happened with the doctor today?” His voice held a hint of sharpness.
She answered quickly, without looking at him. “Nothing.”
“Georgie...”
“Nothing, Clay. Just follow-ups on some tests he ran.”
“Which tests?”
He was not going to let it go. She scrambled for an answer. “You know my dad is diabetic, right?”
“Yes.”