Page 54 of Catfish

Grant Hardison.

Another congressman of Connecticut, cutthroat in business, the state's golden boy of drama and prestige. The motherfucker who I've wanted to strangle more times than I can count.

Also, one of the Republican candidates for president.

The only man that’ll give me a run for my money because he almost wants it just as much as I do. Except he wants the title so his dick can get hard every time he hears someone call him president.

Grant and I each occasionally make the newspapers for everyone’s breakfast tables and social media for everyone’s dumps or lunch breaks when people actually read. Both of us are amongst the youngest candidates running for the good ‘ole White House, which will throw us together in a rivalry all over the state and country.

Everyone is my competition, but I don't need pretty boy to take away my votes. I'm already busting my ass to get the younger Republicans on my side, but with his dashing smile and good looks, he's going to make my job a whole lot harder.

And he just pissed me the hell off because he had Reagan.

He had her.

My nostrils flare as I stare at my wall on the other side of the room.

Let her go.

I don’t want to judge her on her past, but son of a bitch she picked the worst man to get engaged to. Not only because I hate the asshole, but he’s a slimy little douchebag that picks on mid-class and lower class folks. I’ve heard his little antics on how he speaks to people who aren’t in his tax bracket.

He’s a princess.

And whatever he wanted, he got.

You’d think Grant has done some shady shit—don’t get it confused, that’s me—however, he thinks he’s “owned” everything because of his last name. He got his position because of his daddy.

I got mine because I hustled, bartered, and blackmailed.

I’m really not much better, but at least I want to make a difference and worked for it.

Snatching my phone off my desk, I’m about to fire off a text to my private investigator but pause.

I should be going to Em about this, keep it internal. I’m just trying to keep away from the ten thousand questions she’ll have sitting in her back pocket.

Skimming through the rest of what Emmy dug up, Reagan and Grant broke off their engagement over a year ago under the basic “better off as friends” line, according to a few local papers and bloggers.

I need to know more about this.

Buzzing my assistant’s desk, she answers chipperly. “Hello.”

“I need more information about Miss Shelton’s engagement to Grant Hardison.”

“She was engaged to Congressman Hardison?”

“Get it to me by the end of the day,” I clip then hang up.

As much as I’m irritated that she dated Hardison, it only furthers my examination that she’s one hell of a smart woman for breaking it off.

Or she was looking for another and better opportunity.

I may have dodged a bullet after all by not meeting her and keeping the real me a secret.

? Cruel Intentions — Delacey feat G Eazy ?

Sadie came into Riverview tonight to visit Aunt Jenny and see Mama. I get her wanting to see her mom after a few weeks, but I didn't want her to come along to the bar with me.

I want space.

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