Page 30 of Last First Time
Funny. Reed has never once made me feel like I’m beneath him. Even when he took me to that crappy fundraiser, he made me feel like I was a prize to him that entire night, like he believed he was lucky to be there with me.
“Well, your ‘friendship’ can’t be the basis for a co-signatory relationship.” Jeffrey makes little air quotes around the word, presumably so I wouldn’t miss the derogatory way he’s making it sound like I’m sleeping with Reed for money. “You’ll need to have an additional fifty thousand in cash to make this loan a go, or you’ll need a second and third co-signer. Oh, and you’ll need to choose people who you’re not sleeping with this time.”
Ah Jeffrey. Now I remember again why it had felt so good to break up with him, despite all the things we undeniably had in common. Jeffrey is still a mean, petty little boy, even though he’s grown up enough to know better.
“Interesting way you talk to your customers here, Senghauser.” I lick my lips, which feel quite dry. “I can’t imagine what my personal or dating life have to do with whether I am an acceptable credit risk in the current market.”
Before I came here, I assumed this meeting was largely perfunctory, a quick handshake and congratulations type meeting. But now, stuffed down into this low-rise, upholstered chair and staring at the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune to date, I know it’s all over. I’m never going to get this loan, even if I could abruptly become the docile little piece of dick-sucking arm candy that Jeffrey always wanted me to be. Well, might as well go out with a bang then.
I struggle to my feet and put a giant, fake smile on. I reach for a nearby glass of water, then dump it squarely onto Jeffrey’s head, watching with satisfaction as the rivulets sog up his hairdo and soak his suit jacket and button-down shirt. Then, I throw the glass against the wall for a little extra emphasis.
“Oops,” I say, my voice flat and dangerous. “Guess I’ll show myself out so you can clean up the great big mess in here, Jeff.”
I stomp out of his office, leaving him sputtering and soaking wet as I slam the door behind me.
Reed
The senator’s campaign office is one block off the town square, a short walk away from the town hall. I catch myself whistling on the way over there, and then cut it off abruptly. No need to gloat. I’m a better man than that.
Honestly, if von Esrington hadn’t been spending all of his campaign time trying to make me look like a useless party boy manwhore, I think we’d get along well with one another. He’s been in politics since before I was born, and I admire a man who’s able to get things done. His stance on various issues might be quite different from my own, but I’m still impressed by all he has managed to accomplish in his political career. Even if he went about it in a way that’s unsavory to me.
The campaign offices are dark. I knock, but nobody answers, so then I try the door. Locked. I check my phone for the email from the senator again and reread it, then decide to see if there’s another entrance where he might be holed up at. Is the office shut down because he’s quitting?
I walk down one of the little cobblestone alleys next to the campaign office building, scanning the building for signs of life or occupancy. I love this older part of town with the cobblestone pavement. It gives me a little rush of satisfaction every time I walk around Valentine and find it still clean and charming, the same as I’ve always known.
Right in front of me, a door swings open and Brian von Esrington pokes his head out, gesturing at me impatiently. “You’re late, Harrington.”
I give him a tight smile. I’m absolutely not late, even after taking this detour down a side alley, but if he wants to act like I am in order to somehow give himself the psychological upper hand, so be it. “I’m here now, Senator.” I keep my voice as bland as possible.
I mean, I still want him to knock off the blowhard attitude with me, but I’m not the kind of man to kick another when he’s down. I’m a gentleman first before everything else. No matter how low and dirty von Esrington has taken this particular campaign, there is no way that I’ll stoop to his level.
“Get in here, Harrington. I have business to discuss with you.” He turns around and lets the door swing shut behind him. Apparently, I’m going to be the only civilized one in this conversation today. I pull open the heavy side door and traipse down the hall toward the only office with lights on. The floor squeaks and groans underfoot, and I make a mental note to have the building inspector look in on it later.
The senator sits behind his desk, his beady little eyes fixed on me like I’m an insect that he’s wanting to pin. He steeples his hands together and stares at me, obviously waiting for me to sit down. Well, he’s going to be waiting a while with that kind of attitude. I stand in front of him, gaze down at him, and fold my arms.
“What did you want to discuss, Senator?” I ask as coolly as possible. I don’t want this man to know that his rudeness bothers me, because I know that he’ll ramp it up once he figures out that rudeness is one of my weak spots. Senator Brian von Esrington is the kind of man who enjoys finding people’s weaknesses and then exploiting them for his own personal gains. It’s what has made him great at politics, but also what makes him difficult to be around for more than a few moments at a time.
He looks up at the clock behind me, then at me, and gestures expansively. “Take a seat, Reed.” His smile is as phony as a three-dollar bill. I feel like I’m going to throw up in my mouth a little with this over the top friendly type act he’s playing now, but I sit anyway. I want this over with, so I can get on with my regular life.
“I’ve been thinking, Harrington. About the campaign.” Even the sound of his voice annoys me. I want him to cut to the chase, but I’m willing to bet he enjoys theatrics almost as much as he enjoys exploiting others’ weaknesses.
Fine. I’ve sat through many a blowhard speech in my life, and I can sit through another today if that’s going to help somehow. I’m not going to take this man’s last great speech away from him if it’s that important to him.
“It’s time to drop out of the race,” he says, using his great leader type voice.
I nod carefully, trying to keep from letting any of my happiness show on my face. “Well, I’m sorry it’s come to that, but I understand. I truly respect you, sir, and I’d love to have you on my team. You’d be great as a liaison to the governor’s office, or even in some capacity with the federal initiatives we’re working on now.”
His eyes glitter and he bares his teeth at me in a painful-looking smile. “Boy, you clearly misunderstood me. It’s time for you to drop out of the race. Not me.”
I cough out a shocked laugh. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re thinking, sir. I’ve worked for the good people of Valentine for years, and I’m not going to bow out of my campaign because you said so.” I stand up and give him a disdainful sneer. “We are clearly done here, sir. Now with all due respect, I’m going back to work. May the best man win, Senator.”
“Sit down, boy.” He waves me back toward the chairs. “You’re going to want to hear what I have to say. I’m the type of man who doesn’t waste time, and you’re wasting mine.”
“Bullshit.” No way am I going to listen to another minute of this crap. If he thinks he’s going to bully me into quitting, he has the wrong man in mind. I may be a gentleman, but even the most polite man has his limits, and von Esrington is about to find out where mine are.
“I’ve got pictures, playboy. Not you on a bunch of different women’s arms this time, all mashed together for maximum effect. Pictures of you.”
I sniff. “So what? That particular smear campaign isn’t getting you anywhere, Senator. Now that I’ve got K.T. on my side, the town knows better.”
