Page 126 of Pandora's Pleasure
I lay down beside her, staring up at the ceiling, futility finding me in the darkness. Part of me felt like I’d already lost her.
Being given permission to walk into a room to speak with my dad wasn’t a new experience. Though now, with the security cranked to the max and the hustle and bustle of staffers and the campaign crew filling the hallways of my family home, it felt like pandemonium had been unleashed.
I finally entered Dad’s office, gladly closing the door behind me to cut out the noise.
“You wanted to see me?” I threw a contemptuous glance at my brother as I walked across the room.
Carter stood beside Dad. He’d been leaning over his shoulder and pointing at something on his desk, a smarmy expression on his face.
My father sat behind his desk with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Paperwork was stacked so high on his desk it would be a miracle if he ever got to all of it.
“I’ll see you later, son,” said Dad.
My brother shoved past me, his shoulder deliberately pushing mine. His shot of aggression didn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s that all about?” Dad pointed to the chair opposite his desk.
“A misunderstanding.” I left it at that.
I took a seat, casually crossing my legs.
Telling him how badly behaved Carter was around Pandora wasn’t what he needed to hear. Dad had international issues to worry about and this was the way it had always been—us protecting the head of the family from trivial matters.
“How are you?” He leaned over the desk and weaved his fingers together.
“Fine. More importantly, how are you?”
“I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Damien.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I hid my surprise.
“I want to bring you in.”
“Are you offering me a position in your Cabinet?”
“Nepotism is just working with the people you trust most.”
“I’ll always be here for you, you know that.”
“Then your answer is yes?”
It was ano, but he didn’t need to hear that right now.
When I hesitated, he shook his head at my reticence and slid a file across the desk towards me. “Take a look.”
Okay then, business as usual.
Lifting the file and skimming through it, I was surprised to see a collection of photographs, all of beautiful women. “Do these come with resumes?” I looked up at him, confused.
“We’ll get more info on them.”
“What am I looking at? Your top picks for a press secretary?”
“Keep the file. Let me know your choice.”
“Well, it would be helpful to know the context.”
“We got an advanced copy of the storyReal Nation One’sgoing to run on Brenan Bardot.” He slid another folder over to me. “It’s worse than we thought.”
