Page 3 of Presidential Bargain
“I’ll grab theplates.”
Jameson followed me to the kitchen where he dropped the bags on the counter and proceeded to take over. I didn’t get the plates or the silverware or even the glasses; he did. He moved with great efficiency around my kitchen, like he had been there before. Having him in my home should have made me nervous but it didn’t. It felt…right.
Within minutes of his arrival, the small kitchen table was set and we were seated with an Italian feast spread outbeforeus.
“This is a gorgeous house. I can see why you want tokeepit.”
I stopped eating, set my fork down, and looked upathim.
Jameson was right. The housewasgorgeous. My great-grandfather had built this house and it was hard to letitgo.
It was a large brick and stucco Tudor that had a long tree-lined drive and a creek that bordered the back of the property. It was a coveted house, in a coveted neighborhood. Soon after my parents’ deaths, I received multiple offers to sell, some even worth millions. But I could never bring myself to part with it, no matter how desperate my financial situation. This was my home and my heart. My parents raised me here; my mother had been raised here too. There were countless memories that were priceless, and selling it would break my heart. But it might be my onlyoptionnow.
The kitchen where Jameson and I sat was my favorite part of the house. It needed updating, badly, but it was so warm and inviting. I looked around and could see everything it could be, and I dreamed of thepossibilities.
“I know it’s stubborn to keep it when selling it could solve all of my problems. But it’s all Ihaveleft.”
“I understand. I don’t think you should sell it, ever. But it must be lonely living with all of theseghosts.”
He had me. It was lonely, coming home night after night to this big house. I had sold much of the furniture and paintings that had once adorned the rooms and walls to pay for funeral expenses. My parents deserved something grand and I didn’t mind parting with things. The house itself held the memories of my parents and grandparents, not the things that wereinit.
“I know a contractor who specializes in restoring old homes like this. I’ll have himcallyou.”
“What?” My mouth fell open in shock. “I mean, you will? I mean…thank you, but I can’t pay for that kind ofrenovation.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Jameson reached out and tookmyhand.
I looked down at our hands, his large one dwarfing mine. It felt warm and heavy and comforting, but the small act of affection scared me. I jerked my hand away, his skin suddenlyscaldinghot.
“You said we need to talk,” Iremindedhim.
“Yes, we do.” He nodded, finishing off his last bite of dinner before wiping his mouth with a napkin. I might have stared a little too long at his gorgeous, wide mouth and the slight curl of hisupperlip.
“You want me to accept?” I questioned him with a hint ofdisbelief.
“Yes,Ido.”
“Why?”
“Because you easily saw the flaws in our plan. If I’m going to parade a fake fiancée around in front of the world, then it needs to be believable. No one is going to buy some doe-eyed Barbie who coos about how wonderful I am at everycampaignstop.”
“But aren’t you?Wonderful?”
Jameson snorted. “Hardly. I tend to be a bit of an ass. I’m also extremely stubborn. I have far too many demons for one woman to handle for longer than a nightortwo.”
Something deep inside of me screamed “YES!” because I wanted to agree to do this. I wanted to belong to someone again, even if it was only temporary. The loneliness of my life was beginning to feel claustrophobic and Jameson was offering me a way out. “I still want mycabinetpick.”
“Give me your short list. If any of the names match the people I’m considering, then I’ll vet them. And potentially nominate them. It’s my compromise. Take it orleaveit.”
“Deal.”
As soon as Georgie agreed,I wasted no time having her added to my schedule. I sat at her kitchen table for hours after our dinner ended, conducting business. It felt comfortable being there. She cleaned up around me, humming. Her hips swayed beneath the skirt of her red polka-dotted dress, and the modest neckline revealed a hint of the full breasts beneath. She brought me coffee, placing the mug down in front of me with a soft smile. It was then I realized how much younger she was than me. I struggled to remember her exact age; she was twenty-seven or twenty-eight and I had just turned forty. What would people say about our agedifference?
I called Lewis and Jenkins with the good news: Jameson Martin had a fiancée. Now they had to work their magic and create a convincingstory.
“You have to resign from your job now,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“What? I don’t want to quit my job.” Georgie had to know, deep down, she wouldn’t be able to remain in her position. It just wasn’tpossible.
