Page 6 of Presidential Bargain
“Is she going to be in Boston byFriday?”
“According to hertelegram,yes.”
Telegram? What the actual fuck? “I hope you’re notserious,Sean.”
“Relax, dude. The cabin has a landline. Took us fucking forever to get the number. I have verbal confirmation that she will be in Boston on Friday.” Sean sat down in the leather chair across from my desk and kicked his feet up, placing them on the edge of the desk. We were total opposites. I was often high-strung while Sean remained cool as acucumber.
“Good. Schedule the stylists to arrive two hours before the event to get herready.”
“Alreadydone.”
“How are Lewis and Jenkins coming along with thebackstory?”
“Still workingonit.”
“It needs to betight.”
“I know,” Sean scoffed, rollinghiseyes.
I was going over this more for my benefitthanhis.
“Andbelievable.”
“I have expressed that to Lewis andJenkins.”
“This will ruin me, Sean. If the shit hits the fan and people find out that I paid her five million dollars to pretend to be my fiancée, then I’mfucked.”
“I know!” he groanedimpatiently.
“Sorry, but I’m freaking out right now. You know this is important to me. I’ve worked too damn hard and sacrificed too damn much, only to be humiliated and lose the one thing I want more thananythingelse.”
“Go for a run,James.”
Sean was right. I needed to clear my head and the best way to achieve that was to push my body to its limits. Running helped me focus and escape the demons that still chased me, even while I wasawake.
I left my office ten minutes later in my running gear. With earbuds firmly in place, I began my run. I set a grueling pace as the unmistakable chords of “Kashmir” echoed through my mind. Hopefully, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant would exorcise some of the anxiety and fear over a risky bargain with a prettyblonde.
Imadethe hasty decisionto drive two hours north to immerse myself in how my life used to be. The cabin that my family owned still held the mementos from years of family vacations. Photos remained on the walls and crafts lined the shelves. Before I gave up my life entirely, I wanted one last chance torememberit.
The White Mountains offered me no escape, no answers, and no perspective. Jameson Martin found me, even though I tried my best to hide from him. Or at least, someone from his campaign found me. The peace and comfort I longed for eluded me. A few days later, I sat in the back of a black SUV with heavily tinted windows, on my way to Boston. My life officially no longer belongedtome.
“So, what’s the story?” I asked Jenkins—or was it Lewis?—during thejourney.
“You’ve been quietly dating. He proposed in London and he never mentioned a girlfriend or significant other until now because he didn’t want the press to needlessly hound you or show up at yourschool.”
“How very alpha of him.” The romantic inside me twirled with delight. Protection. What girl wouldn’t want to be protected by the man she loves? Too bad we weren’t really in love. I sighed and looked out the window. “At least he did it in London. I was in London at the beginning of thesummer.”
“Sowashe.”
“Good call, then.” I had no doubt that Jameson and his team of investigators knew every detail of my life. It worried me that he knew so much about my life but I knew very little about his. “Where did hepropose?”
“A private garden in Chester Square in Belgravia.” At least it wasn’t the London Eye. I was terrified of heights and wouldn’t be caught deadonit.
“And my ring?” I looked down at the fourth finger of my left hand, wiggling it just a bit. It was currently bare and I wondered what Jamesonwouldpick.
“Senator Martin will let you pick it out. He sent for a selection from the best jewelers inBoston.”
I was filled with disappointment. I didn’t want to pick out my own ring, even if it was a fake engagement. I wanted the ring to come from him; I wanted to know that he had personally taken the time to pick it out. I frowned and made a noise of disapproval before saying, “Call the senator for me,please.”
