by Lee Taylor
Logan frowned and narrowed his gaze further. “Hmm, thanks.”
Refusing to be cowed by his distinctly cool, non-committal response, Gia leaned forward. “My candidate, Aiden Maxwell, is running for the Second Congressional district. At least, he will be after he wins the primary . . . which is all but assured.” Aware that she was betraying her nervousness, she aimed for humor. “I guess you could say it’s all over but the shouting.”
Logan studied her for a long moment, impressed with her forthrightness. She was eager and stunningly beautiful. Admitting it was hard not to focus on her face and body, he forced himself to respond to her appeal. “Why should I support your candidate?” Before she could answer, he added, “On that point, I’m surprised your candidate didn’t come with you.”
She tossed her head and said with a saucy smile, “He only meets with funders I’ve qualified.” Openly teasing him, she added, “It’s hard to get on his schedule. He’s a busy man.”
Logan laughed. “I see. And after you have qualified the potential funders?”
“Then I let them meet my candidate.”
“May I say that Mr. Maxwell is fortunate to have such a brazen campaign manager?”
He rose from his chair and pushed a button his desk. The door to his office opened, and a scowling Arnold appeared in the doorway. Logan met Gia’s surprised start and walked around his desk. He waited until she rose from her chair, then put his hand lightly on her arm and steered her toward the door.
Turning to Arnold, he said, “Please see that Ms. Tremaine’s parking ticket is stamped.” He smiled down at Gia. “It was a pleasure, Gia. Good luck to you and your lucky candidate.” He turned away as Arnold moved her forward, then quickly closed the door behind his employer.
****
Trying to deal with the fact that yet again, she’d been summarily dismissed but this time by Fowler himself, Gia was surprised at the angry tears burning the backs of her eyelids. Knowing she would rather die than let the waterworks escape, she forced herself to smile at the supercilious man gloating at her. Nodding to him, she wished him a nice day, silently praying that he would die a hideous death on the spot. Stumbling down the hallway, she swallowed the sobs welling in her throat. As stunned as she was at Fowler’s dismissal, she vowed that if the cocky son of a bitch, as she’d renamed him, thought he was rid of her, he had no idea what woman he’d tangled with.
****
Logan waited until the door closed behind her, then returned to his seat and sank down. Leaning back in his chair, he scrubbed at his chin thoughtfully. He wasn’t surprised at his mixed emotions. He knew he’d acted like an overbearing autocrat, immediately shutting her down. He hadn’t given her a chance to make what he was confident would have been a powerful political pitch. At the same time, he knew that the chances of him supporting her candidate, especially one he’d never heard of, were nil. Considering the lengths she’d gone to specifically to meet with him, he owed it to the persistent young woman to close that door quickly and firmly.
Unfortunately, as clear as he was about the political decision, he was anything but clear about the ballsy woman who’d been lurking in his mind since the Empress Event. Seeing her at the gym had only amplified his problematic reaction to her. He excused himself for being taken with her. Holy Christ, he would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to be wowed by the sensational woman. And it wasn’t as though he was the only one to appreciate her significant charms. He’d seen the surreptitious glances the men at the art museum and then the gym had shot her way. He blew out a harsh laugh, remembering Savannah’s decidedly negative and demeaning reaction to the interloper. He could only imagine how many men at the Empress Event were forced to agree with their aggrieved spouses how inappropriate the bold gate-crasher was.
The problem was that he was as much taken with her audaciousness as he was with her lush body and beautiful face. Jesus, talk about a firecracker. He saw her quick appraisal of his upscale office. She might have been taken aback by its opulence, but within seconds she’d raised her pert chin a notch. She’d almost winked at him. Instead, she’d showered him with a cheeky grin as if to say that she was here now, and what the hell was he going to do about it? Given the significant reaction of his randy prick to her luscious scent and dancing emerald eyes, not to mention her centerfold body, he admitted he wasn’t sure. The question went from intriguing to damned significant when, for the first time, he saw the impressive rock on the ring finger of her left hand.
****
As the productive dinner meeting came to a close, Logan decided if anyone could answer the question that had been roiling around in his brain since the art center event, now made even more pertinent by his morning meeting, it was his dinner companions. Paul Davis was a prominent client of Elliott Lockhart’s. Davis had proved to be as good company as Elliott had promised. He was a font of knowledge about the business structure of the community Logan was preparing to invade. In addition to his formidable contacts, the elderly gentleman was an inveterate storyteller with a sagacious wit colored by salty language sure to entertain. Logan waited until there was a lull in the conversation, then took a thoughtful sip of the Macallan they were enjoying and asked nonchalantly, “Do either of you know Gia Tremaine?”
He shouldn’t have been surprised at the unqualified reaction from both men. It was Davis who summed it up. “Jesus Fucking God, man, ask any red-blooded man in the county, hell, the state if he knows that little Irish lass, and you’ll get a resounding yes.”
Elliott asked with a grin, “Why do you ask?” Then, not letting Logan answer, he added, “Oh, wait, I forgot you went to the Empress Event. I heard Gia crashed the party and made quite an entrance.”
Paul laughed in open delight. “Crashed the party? I was there. Hell, man, make that blew it apart. I’m still laughing my ass off at what that little troublemaker did. I can promise you, except for our homosexual friends, there wasn’t a man there who didn’t end up sleeping on the sofa that night.” With an effort, he managed to contain his belly laugh. “But then, as Henry Kissinger said, ‘Nobody will ever win the battle of the sexes. There is too much fraternizing with the enemy.’ And I can tell you there wasn’t a guy at that high falutin’ shindig who wasn’t considering more than a little fraternization with that Irish heartbreaker Big Bart’s little gal.”
After the elderly gentleman had managed to contain his humor, Elliot pinned Logan with a questioning frown. “You didn’t tell me you knew Gia Tremaine, Logan.”
Logan raised his hands. “I don’t, at least, not really. Apparently, she’d heard about my underwriting Pritchard’s campaign in Washington. She approached me and asked me to support her candidate.” Not bothering to mask his humor, he nodded to Paul. “And yes, as you said, I also witnessed the ruckus she caused at the museum event and can confirm the reaction of the men and the women there. Even my date spent most of the evening reliving her horror at the effrontery of Ms. Tremaine crashing the upscale event.”
Elliott shot him a quizzical glance. “Hell, Logan, knowing Gia as I do, I wouldn’t be surprised if she crashed that party for the sole purpose of seeking you out. Gia has to be looking for supporters. I still can’t believe she latched onto that preppy Maxwell guy. She’s gotta know Gus Underwood will kick his ass.”
“Hmm, so who is she? Fill me in on the presumptuous young woman. And the preppy candidate she wants me to support.”
Paul was the first to respond. “Be careful, Logan. In addition to turning all of us who think with our dicks into blubbering idiots at the sight of her, except for her pappy, Big Bart, she is the single smartest political strategist we have in these parts, hell, in the state. The way she took down Lyin’ Mike O’Brian will go down in the annals of political chicanery for the ages.”
His eyes sparkling with humor, Elliott picked up the gauntlet and described the political bloodbath that had taken the district by storm. After listening to the remarkable story, Logan couldn’t help but be impressed. “So is h
er candidate worth supporting?”
Paul and Elliott exchanged a telling shrug. Elliott moved in. “In a word, he’s a lightweight. What he’s got going for him is Gia—which makes him a formidable candidate. But seriously, Logan, Paul isn’t exaggerating. That takedown was nothing short of masterful.” He mused thoughtfully. “At least to me, Gia’s choice of such a lightweight is worth considering. It’s almost as if she were looking for a blank slate that she could manipulate to meet her needs.”
Paul concurred. “You’re onto something there, Elliott. Mike O’Brian was a daunting candidate. He was backed up the ass by every union man and his wife. It was going to take a formidable opponent to take him down. But Gia wiped him out. I doubt Mike takes his pecker out to piss without lookin’ over his shoulder, she cut him down so bad.” He shook his head as if remembering the remarkable scene. “I tell you that move was right out of Big Bart’s playbook—only gutsier, if possible. After all, Big Bart was a master manipulator. Lies flowed like honey out of his mouth and the audience was too wowed by his wry grin to notice. Or if they did, they didn’t care. In contrast, like the puppet master she is, Gia was putting the words in her puppet’s mouth. She probably hoped he’d remember the script she’d drilled into him and that he’d find the guts to say the words.” He laughed again and shook his head in wonder. “And, neophyte that Maxwell is, that he’d keep from pissing his pants in terror and running off the stage.”
Elliott laughed in agreement. “Probably the only reason the kid made it through was because Gia was waiting in the wings for him. He knew what she’d do to him if he failed.”
Logan wrestled with the remarkable tale he was hearing. He’d been impressed as hell with the young woman. Admittedly, his admiration had been on the basis of her physical charms and audaciousness. Now he was learning that she was a consummate politician—admired by men as astute as Paul Davis and his worldly-wise colleague, Elliott Lockhart.
“Tell me about her father. I believe you called him Big Bart. Is he still active in the political arena?”
Paul snorted. “Let me put it this way. Big Bart used to control everything in this goddamned county, from who won and who lost and by how many votes. Fuck it, we didn’t elect a dog catcher unless Big Bart gave the word.”
Logan was mystified. “Hmm. I don’t think I’ve met him. And from what you’ve said, I’d remember him if I did.”
Paul grinned at him. “And you’re not likely to. At least for another ten years. Which, if he can prove good behavior, is when he’ll be released from prison.”
Logan was quiet for a long moment, trying to absorb the astonishing tales he’d heard. Then he sucked in an audible breath and asked the question that had been bothering him more than any other. Aiming for the nonchalance he didn’t feel, he asked, “So who’s the lucky guy who managed to get that impressive ring on Ms. Tremaine’s finger?”
Paul and Elliott shared a troubled frown, then Elliott took on the mystery. “Damned if I can explain it. It’s so far out of her playbook that it doesn’t ring true . . . unless it’s some kind of a political stunt.” He shrugged and said, “The lucky guy is none other than Gia’s preppy candidate, Aiden Martin Maxwell.”
Chapter 11
Gia paced the floor of her office. She was wound too tight to stay seated. It had been two days since Fowler essentially threw her out of his office. She’d run through a gamut of reactions at his abrupt discharge—from fury to massive disappointment. After castigating herself for not standing up to him, she acknowledged that hadn’t been an option. Granted, she could have thrown a temper tantrum and called him out for the officious asshole that he was. But as gratifying as that would have been, she knew it was shortsighted. She’d convinced herself it was much smarter to be strategic. A screaming fit would have seriously shot her ambitions to shit. God knew she had too much to lose if she lost it now.
She admitted that she needed Fowler more than ever. Franklin Maxwell had given her an ultimatum. Even though he was apoplectic when she threatened to go public with some of his more egregious business practices and penchant for strippers, he’d showed more grit than his son ever had. The shrewd reprobate agreed that he would give her the half mil she needed once she secured a matching amount. In that Aiden was an unproven candidate and didn’t have the juice to instigate a small donor following of rabid supporters, the large donations were essential. Gia further acknowledged that her challenge was to get the funding without relying on Aiden’s modest skills. It was a given that she was a much better advocate than her lackluster, uncertain candidate.
Which brought her back to the inimitable Mr. Logan Fowler. As upset as she’d been when he dismissed her without even hearing her pitch, she convinced herself not to give up. She knew she needed fresh meat. Her stable of customary donors, make that Big Bart’s stable, was filled with obstreperous and politically astute contributors. Those seasoned men would see Aiden’s shortcomings if they were blindfolded. Plus, they knew her. It was one thing to have a master political manipulator backing a promising candidate. That was a recipe for success. But even Gia admitted that Aiden had not risen to the challenge. Frustrated at the time and effort she’d wasted trying to up his skills, she knew the only answer was for her to secure major funding and secure it now.
With Franklin’s begrudging contribution hovering in the wings, she was determined to take another crack at Logan Fowler. In her more self-aware moments, she admitted it wasn’t only that Fowler was a newcomer to their seamy political landscape that made him an attractive donor. It was bad enough that he was outrageously good-looking and mega-wealthy to boot. It wasn’t even the fact that he was the most attractive man she could remember meeting. But in her private moments, she admitted that it was even more than those significant qualifications that had undone her. To be frank, he turned her on.
Having long ago decided that normal male-female interactions were off the table for her, she was shocked at the way she was reacting to the daunting stranger. She’d watched her father and the rest of the ambitious men around her use women to satisfy their carnal needs but not permit them to muck up their political ambitions. Her lack of interest in Aiden except as a political foil made him the perfect companion. Granted, she probably didn’t need to marry him to get the protection she needed. But given that sexual attraction wasn’t part of their strange equation, it freed her to concentrate on her ambitious goals. Which made her untoward reaction to Logan Fowler more than unsettling. Forcing herself to stop agonizing over feelings that didn’t belong in her carefully constructed relationship prism, she set about determining how she was going to get the elusive man to give her half a million dollars. And, more critically, for her to acknowledge that other than money, a connection with the daunting man wasn’t an option.
Planning her crusade, she detailed the factors she had going for her. First, she was gorgeous. While others might consider that unimportant, Gia knew better. That Logan appreciated her physical assets was a given. His open assessment of her wares had made that clear. Furthermore, he seemed amused by her daring pursuit. After all, he had agreed to see her. What he hadn’t done was consider her request for a political contribution. On further thought, she decided even that adamant refusal wasn’t the end of the road. The fact that he’d given untold millions to a political unknown confirmed that politics were one of his bailiwicks. More than likely, his generous contribution was made in large part to secure support for his business ambitions. Which in her view was all to the good. It meant that he was a strategic businessman and knew political connections would help further his commercial ambitions.
After considering her options, Gia decided to go with what had worked before. Obviously, he’d been impressed—or at least intrigued—by her full-frontal assault. Plus, it had gotten her in the door. Deciding against subterfuges like following him around and “accidentally” running into him at this place or that, she decided to approach him directly. Taking out a piece of paper, she quickly wrote her request in her de
scriptive handwriting. She didn’t pull any punches. Her request was simple, straightforward. “I’m having a strategy session with my team tomorrow at three. My candidate will attend. I hope that you will join us. I’ll appreciate your insights. —Gia” She scribbled their headquarters address on the bottom of the note. Before she could consider her rash action, she handed it to Emma to deliver to his office.
At some level, she knew that he would be impressed with her assertiveness. The acknowledgement that she would appreciate his attendance was a sop to his stature and that his presence mattered personally to her. Breathing out a hard sigh, Gia conceded she’d done the best that she could. The next step in the dance was his.
****
Logan read the note in the bold handwriting and shook his head. Not able to contain his grin, once more he marveled at the chutzpah of the audacious woman. She truly was a piece of work. Her strategy was obvious. At least for someone as brazen as Gia apparently was. To be specific, she’d taken him on as an equal. She’d told him what she wanted and why and gave him the option to confirm or shut her down. It didn’t take him more than a minute to acknowledge that a visit to her headquarters was now on his agenda. In fact, he was relieved that she’d made the first move. After his bedeviling conversation with Elliott and Paul, he’d conceded that for better or, likely, worse, the intrepid young political Machiavelli had more than intrigued him. If anything, her invitation to a political strategy session put their next encounter on more neutral grounds. At least she hadn’t invited him for a drink and further conversation, which he might have been forced to do if she hadn’t reached out to him.
****
Gia sucked in a calming breath and nodded when an eager Emma burst through the doorway and rushed to her side. In a stage whisper that was undoubtedly heard by the rest of the team, she said, “You’re not going to believe it, Gia. You’ll never guess who is here. I mean right here, in our office.”