Page 81 of Bona Fide

“No, thanks,” she deadpans, picking up her pace. The truck gases up a little faster.

“Miss, I’m not trying to pick you up like that. I have your friend in the car.”

“Go fuck off,” Reagan chides. “I’m not getting into a stranger’s truck.” I roll my eyes and lower my damn window because there’s no way she’s getting in this vehicle.

Stranger danger is real, folks.

"Reagan," I call out. She looks over her shoulder again and sees me before I close my window again. I watch her hesitate then jump the curb to enter into the backseat.

When the door swings open and she jumps in, she goes in on me before the door even shuts behind her. “What did I tell you? What are you doing here?”

“Good thing I am,” I retort. “What the fuck are you doing walking alone at night?”

“I didn’t drive here.”

I smack the back of the driver’s seat. “Drive to Miss Shelton’s house.”

"I took an Uber," she states, then her brows immediately descend. "How does he know where I live?" I ignore her. "Do I even want to ask?"

"I don't know—" Her back hits the seat as she settles in. "—do you?" I fix her with a scowl, which only makes her wait a few seconds longer before she continues.

“There are still two news vans outside the front of my house.”

“And how did you make the great escape?”

She crosses her arms along her chest and shrugs. “I hopped the fence into my neighbor’s yard. Ordered an Uber and voila.” I scoff, shaking my head, but I can't keep the rising smirk that portrays off my face.

I will never meet another woman like this ever again in my life.

“And you decided to hang out with the Hardisons of all people.”

Silence fills the car, and I feel Reagan tense next to me, but I don't steal a glance her way.

“I’m planning an event for Jed.”

My nostrils flare on their own. “I told you that I don’t want—”

“You don’t get to call the shots for me, Governor. I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Yes—” I tilt my body to face hers. “—let’s talk about that.”

She stares straight ahead. “Let’s not.”

“Reagan,” I warn. “I told you—”

“This is my life,” she snaps. “And since when do you use your driver?”

“We’ll need you to take the street behind Miss Shelton’s house,” I announce to my driver.

“Yes, sir.”

I return my attention to her. “Since I picked up stalking.”

Returning my focus back outside my window because I can't compose myself into a placate manner, I never thought I'd make such a monumental mess out of all of this. I didn't believe Demi would come back so soon, at least not until I was announced as the Democratic candidate. I had plans in place to keep her across the pond but didn't have them locked down yet.

She knew what she was doing. She waited for her moment to strike.

And she blindsided the fuck out of me.

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