Page 8 of The Senator

The birthday party was in full swing as people milled around the room while appetizers were being passed. I’d tasted a few as a server with a less than full tray stopped by, and the food was damn good. Jorge was busy flirting with a gorgeous waitress with a big rack, when an equally gorgeous woman and a hot-as-fuck silver fox strolled up to the bar.

I grabbed two beverage napkins and placed them on the bar top. “Good evening. What can I get you to drink? The host’s signature cocktail tonight is called an Irish Gold. It’s made with Tullamore Dew, peach schnapps, and a hint of orange juice, finished with a splash of ginger ale,” I repeated for the hundredth time that night.

I’d tasted it, and it wasn’t my cup of tea, but I was a company man when necessary, so I offered it. Surprisingly, the lady stared at me, pointing a sharp nail at a bottle of wine. “I’ll have a healthy pour of pinot grigio, and he’ll have a double Glenlivet on the rocks.” She was not playing around.

I nodded and prepared their drinks. They were a stunning couple, but the guy looked familiar. I hated the feeling I knew someone but couldn’t place where or why. I was left with one conclusion—at some point, I might have had sex with him, and seeing his wife gave me an uneasy feeling in my gut.

I didn’t run background checks on guys I fucked, or let fuck me on occasion, but I was good with faces. The handsome guy standing at the bar was familiar.

I placed their drinks on the bar, and thankfully, the guy tossed a twenty in the tip jar. I nodded as they left, taking in both of their asses. Not a bad view as far as I was concerned.

The couple went to mingle, but I couldn’t help but keep trying to ferret out how I knew the guy. It niggled on my mind, and I was unable to take my eyes off them as they made their way around the room. The two of them seemed to move as one, and it was hypnotizing. I’d never seen a more beautiful man in my life, and the fact he was with an equally gorgeous woman reminded me the fucking universe wasn’t always fair.

The night wore on, and between making small talk with Jorge, who kept trying to fix me up with his sister, his cousin, his girlfriend’s sister, and even his mother, I was bored out of my skull. There were toasts for Sean Fitzpatrick, and thankfully, only the birthday boy enjoyed the signature cocktail.

When the handsome man I’d been eye stalking returned to the bar without the beautiful woman, I was determined to get to the bottom of why I thought I knew the guy.

“Another Glenlivet, sir?” The guy’s hair was dark blond on top with grey at the temples, which made him look like a stock photo.

“I’ll have a beer instead.”

I held up two bottles, one a domestic and one an import. The man pointed to the domestic, so I opened it and offered him the bottle and a frosted glass. “Thanks,” he responded before he lifted the bottle to his full lips, pushing the glass away.

“Can I get a glass of pinot for your wife?” I didn’t see her anywhere nearby.

“She’s in the ladies’ room. Vani had a little too much to drink, so she went to freshen up. It never happens, you know, where she drinks too much, but all the pressure—” He drifted off as he continued to scan the room. It was then that I figured out why he looked familiar. I’d seen his face—and his ass—on the front page of the free paper for months.

He was a United States senator, and he’d gotten caught doing someone who wasn’t his beautiful wife. He’d recently lost his re-election bid and had somewhat disappeared from public life. I was surprised he’d show up at such a high-profile event.

“Are you looking for someone?” I studied him closely before I realized he was staring back. I’d been bored, but now I’d found something, or someone, interesting to focus on. At least the man was smoking hot!

“I’m looking for a Judas. You know, you think you know someone, and then one day, you find out they sold you out for a bag of magic beans. I mean, come the fuck on? We’ve been friends since college, and now? Fucking now he decides to sell me out? The bastard didn’t even have the decency to show up tonight so I could confront him like Sean promised.”

Senator Blondie seemed to have an axe to grind, and I had no customers, so I ventured into the breach… I thought I wanted to be an actor for a week when I was in New York, so I tried out for a Shakespeare play. Not good at it. Another dream dashed to bits.

“So, your man did you wrong? How?” I quizzed, not meaning anything by the phrase.

“Fucker isn’t my man, but he betrayed me. If I find him, I’m gonna beat his ass.” Senator Blondie sloshed his beer. Just then, Sean Fitzpatrick came around the corner with the man’s wife, who looked as if she’d been waging a war of her own.

Sean escorted the woman up to the bar—holding her upright—and took in the sight of the two of them. “New plan, Nash. I need you to see that the Brady’s get somewhere out of sight. The Senator can’t afford another scandal.”

Brady? The cogs slowly turned and slid into place. I remembered the man’s name was Spencer Brady, the junior senator from Virginia. “Oh, this is?—?”

“Yep, and I need you to get them out of here without the press seeing them and causing more problems. I’ll get someone else to clean up. I won’t forget this.” I could see Sean Fitzpatrick was completely serious.

Considering I wanted to get away from being an escort, which meant I’d lose my place to live, I needed cash, so maybe Sean had connections that could get me out of sex work? I couldn’t pass up his offer. “Okay, uh, where do they live?” I quickly dried my hands.

“Oh, uh, I don’t actually know, but I’ll get a suite, and you can take them upstairs and make sure they get to bed. I don’t think they sleep together, so I’ll make sure it’s a two bedroom. I’ll be back.” Sean rushed across the room toward the lobby, leaving me more than a little confused.

I walked around the bar and looked at the guy, seeing he was still fucking gorgeous, even if his eyes were red, and he wasn’t steady on his feet. Of course, I knew all about the bullshit that had happened to the man, but I was sympathetic.

A person should be able to determine when they want to tell others about themselves—their real selves. Nobody had ever asked me about myself, so I’d never said it out loud.

People like Sean Fitzpatrick assumed a lot about me that I didn’t bother to correct, but then again, it was my truth, wasn’t it? Nobody had any business knowing anything intimate about me unless I chose to tell them.

Sean rushed back with an envelope in his hand. “Get them out of here. The guy who fucked him over—allegedly—just arrived, and with the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed, it’ll be front-page news. Get them anything they want, on me, of course.” Sean quickly shoved the envelope into my hands and hurried off to greet a dark-haired man who didn’t look happy at all.

I turned to see the couple I’d been assigned were both nearly passed out on their feet, so I steadied the lady and motioned for the man to follow me out through the kitchen to the freight elevator. It had the potential to be a long night.

---