Try to tell her who you really are.

Your heart sinks.

The fact that your new gorgeous neighbor is a Republican you can handle. You have always enjoyed a good debate, and nothing is more sexy then a beautiful woman who is intelligent and capable. Yet that you are both running for the same House seat is just ludicrous. You resolve to tell her who you are right away.

“Well we will see,” You begin to answer her question, “but I really should . . .”

Bzzzz, Bzzzz. “Hold that thought.” Sam interrupts as she takes her cell phone from her sweat pant's pocket.

Turning her back to you she takes a few steps away and begins to talk into her phone. “He's on board? . . . Good, very good . . . Max contribution and the endorsement?! . . . . That's great! . . . Yeah, I can meet him . . . Now? . . . Sure, let me change and I will head right out . . . Good work Frank, this is huge, thank you . . . Bye.”

The curvy conservative hangs up the phone and spinning to you quickly states with an excited voice, “Sorry, neighbor I have to run. My campaign manager just pulled off a major coup and I have to go meet some bigwig.”

“Great.” You say in a halfhearted voice, not thrilled your opponent's campaign is doing so well.

“Oh,” Sam briefly adds, “I am having a campaign barbeque at North Park on Saturday at 10:00 AM. No speeches, just free food, games and a concert for the public. You and the family are welcome to attend.”

“Thanks, but I am single.” You answer in a distracted tone, your mind pondering the resources her campaign must have available to host such an extravagant event. “Besides I have to work.” You add, remembering you're schedule to go door to door canvasing that day, which seems quite little league compared to her event.”

“Oh, that is too bad.” Sam says with a hint of a smile, seemingly pleased that you are not married. “Well I really have to run.” Waving goodbye she heads towards her house. “Nice to meet you, see you around, neighbor.”

“Take care.” You wave back, realizing now is not the time for a major conversation.

Abruptly she stops and looks back at you and then your campaign sign with a playful grin. Spinning around again she walks over to your sign and pulls it out of the ground and then heads back to her house with it.

“Hey . . . Wait . . .” You partially object, “What are you doing?”

“Stealing,” she grins looking over her shoulder, “you can call the police or you can pay the ransom fee.”

“Ransom fee?” You chuckle, amused by the redhead's brashness.

“I'm new to town and I need to find out the best restaurants.” The auburn beauty stops in place for a second, “And over dinner I can show you the error of your political ways, then you can have your sign back.” She adds with a playful smirk as she continues back to her house. “Pick me up at six?”

“Sure.” You answer in agreement.

With a frustrated sigh you watch the sexiest woman you have ever met, whose is also the obstacle to your political future, walk back to her house across the street from your home. What a farce this morning has turned out to be, you think to yourself, as you cannot help but watch her pert little ass sway back and forth, as she puts a little bit more strut in her step, knowing that you are watching.

“Damn.” You exclaim under your breath.