American Scandal (Their First Lady Book 1)

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American Scandal (Their First Lady Book 1) Page 2

by Lucia Black


  Cal took the champagne flute from my hand and deftly disposed of it on a nearby table before offering me his arm to escort me to the dance floor like a true gentleman. He was smooth. I’d give him that. He was certainly more of a gentleman that I was used to. Just a handful of other couples were on the dance floor, slowly swaying to the music.

  He placed one hand on the small of my exposed back and clasped my hand with the other. He pulled me in tighter, forcing my posture upright and surprising me with the forcefulness of it. We had to look good to everyone watching. I wondered if he was just as nervous as I was.

  “It’s really nice to finally meet you. I’ve known your father through the Moretti Foundation for quite some time.” His breath was sweet and minty, his face so close to mine. And that smile . . .

  I wasn’t sure what to say anymore, so I just did my best to nod and smile. To appear interested and charmed by this man. I hoped I looked believable to anyone watching. We’d quickly attracted quite a bit of attention on the dance floor; a couple of camera flashes started to go off to the left and the right of us. He carefully spun me around and I could hear more clicks from photographers as hushed murmurs made their way through the crowd.

  “I look forward to learning all there is to know about you, Miss Moretti.”

  “Tessa.”

  “Sorry. Tessa. I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime, Tessa. If you’d like that.”

  I noticed a couple close by us and when I turned to look at them, they quickly pretended they weren’t eavesdropping, but they couldn’t hide their knowing smiles. They had heard his offer. And I made sure to graciously accept while they were still in earshot. The gossip would flow before the press deadline, without a doubt.

  As the song ended, Cal took my hand again and kissed it, thanking me for the dance as we exited the dance floor. He took a champagne flute from a tray and handed it to me. “I must return to my guests. Would you join me?”

  “Um, yes, I need to excuse myself for just a moment—”

  “It will get easier, with time. You’re doing well,” he whispered in my ear. I smiled at the people looking at us, who assumed he was flirting, who assumed we had just had an unforgettable meeting entirely by chance. They had no idea of the reality.

  And the pressure was beginning to weigh me down.

  I smiled for the cameras and nodded even though I wanted to run. “I’m sure it will.”

  Was he always this stiff? This kind? This . . . proper?

  “You look wonderful,” he said. “You make this easy for me.”

  His comment gave me pause and I stared at him for a brief moment before recomposing myself. There was a slight change in his tone. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was there. What the hell did he just say to me? What was that supposed to mean?

  “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. James,” a conservatively dressed young woman said as she approached us. “The Atkins have to catch a flight to San Francisco, and they wanted to speak to you before they leave. Do you have a minute for them?”

  “Absolutely,” Cal said. “Tessa.” He nearly bowed to me, like in an old movie. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

  “Of course. I’ll find you in a bit,” I managed to say.

  Cal and the woman hurried away while I was left standing there wondering what my future would look. Would it always feel this fake? This rehearsed? I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I felt like I was suffocating, and we’d only just met. He had been the mayor. He’d won the primary. Shouldn’t he have some swagger? I was expecting an alpha, a leader . . . and got a lemon.

  “What a waste,” I whispered to myself, taking a deep drink of champagne.

  I needed to get to the restroom and be alone. They had those lovely plush cushions in there by the makeup vanities. I just needed to sit and be away from this façade. I could lock myself in a stall for a few minutes and get my shit together, but I needed to get out of here.

  With more speed than was likely wise, I rushed to the restroom on the opposite side of the ballroom, turning my head slightly to make sure no one saw me . . . and then slammed directly into another moving body.

  We toppled to the ground in an umph. My fall significantly softer than the person I’d landed on. I peered up, caught off guard by the intense eyes staring back at me; bright and blue and piercing. Quickly I adjusted my dress, making sure I wasn’t flashing anything.

  “If you wanted to meet me you could’ve just said hi,” he said with a laugh.

  I stupidly stared at him while he helped me up.

  “Are you ok?” he asked while steadying me.

  I was holding onto him for balance, feeling his toned arms through his snuggly tailored tuxedo. I couldn’t help but notice the way his dirty blond waves fought to break from their perfectly styled hold while the scent of his heady cologne filled my nostrils . . . then he was saying something again when I realized he’d been talking to me.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “I asked if you’re ok. I mean, you slammed into me and knocked us both over, but you still haven’t said a word yet. Usually I get more of a response when a woman is on top of me . . .”

  “Oh my god! Um, yes, I’m sorry, I—”

  I looked to see what was left of my champagne was now on the front of his coat, the glass haphazardly tossed on the floor. “Oh, I am so sorry. Let me get you a napkin or something to dry that with.” Instead, I brushed at his coat with my hand. Repeatedly touching his body and all the while I was screaming inside my head to stop, but my brain was not sending the message to any other part of me.

  “If you wanted to feel me up, you could have just asked,” he said, the corner of his lips turning up in a ridiculously sexy smile.

  I was certain the color of my cheeks had flushed the same gorgeous red of my lipstick. Finally getting the message, I stopped groping the stranger. The incredibly sexy stranger with a provocative mouth and . . . swagger. I could smell the bad boy on him. I always did. And it got me in trouble every time. I needed to compose myself and get away from him.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. Again. Thank you for helping me up. I’ll be happy to pay for the dry-cleaning bill. Just let me know—”

  “It’s no problem. But I can’t tell if you are trying to get me out of my suit or get my phone number. Either way . . .”

  “Uh, no. I meant the champagne? On your suit? I’ll pay the bill. Are you staying here?”

  “What’s your name?

  “Tessa.”

  “I don’t know, Tessa. You keep saying no, but it really feels like you’re trying to get my clothes off.”

  The red of my cheeks traveled down my neck and onto my chest. I was sure of it. I could feel the heat spreading further. God, he smelled good . . .

  “That’s not what I meant. I, um—I’ll leave my information with the front desk. Please have them bill me for the cleaning.” I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and the skin to skin contact felt like electricity. I looked at him and he was entirely too close. What was worse . . . I wanted him to be.

  “Stay a while, Tess. I thought we were just getting started,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

  “I really can’t. I have to go . . .” I trailed off, looking at him expectantly. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t draw this out. I shouldn’t want to know his name.

  “Preston.”

  But I did.

  “Preston. Thank you again. This was fun, but I don’t have time to play along anymore. I need to go.”

  He leaned in closely and whispered in my ear, “I’d love to play with you any time. Come and find me later.”

  Preston let go of my arm and I walked out of the secluded hallway toward the crowd of people, my body already missing his touch even though I barely knew what it was like to have it.

  Chapter 3

  Not only did Preston steal my chance for a moment alone but now I felt completely flustered—and guilty for lusting after him while my focus was supposed to be on being seen with someone else.
Sweeping my gaze around the crowded room, I spotted Cal. The smile was still plastered to his face as he spoke to an attractive woman in a bold red dress. I casually made my way toward him.

  The woman laughed obnoxiously loud at something he said as I approached, other people taking notice of my arrival. I put on my smile and nodded to them in greeting. I had to be the woman people saw Cal talking to, and I had to look like I enjoyed it.

  “Tessa,” he said as his attention turned to me. “You were true to your word.”

  Cal excused himself from the conversation with the woman.

  “Most of politics is all about promises, isn’t it?” I said quietly.

  “Isn’t that the damned truth,” Cal muttered before he cleared his throat and relaxed his face. For a fleeting moment, I glimpsed a different Calvin James; someone else behind the smile and the politically correct responses. I hoped that I would see more of that version seeing as this was a long-term deal, much to my dismay.

  “Are you ready for some more mingling?”

  “I think so,” Cal said. He offered his arm again and I took it. I let my fingers feel the finely woven wool of his jacket, an undoubtedly expensive and designer piece. “And this is the perfect group to be seen by.” He nodded slightly to the gathering of couples adjacent to us. “The redhead writes the gossip column in a well-known paper and her husband has more money than he knows what to do with. And those two talking to them are in the know with nearly everyone in Washington.”

  “They sound like the perfect place to start.”

  Cal led me to the group, his confidence rubbing off on me as we approached. “And here are my favorite people.”

  “Oh, please,” the redhead said. She reached in for a hug that Cal returned. “I bet you say that to all the ladies.” She laughed.

  “Tessa Moretti, this is Kelly and Alton Spencer.” I shook their hands and returned their polite smiles. They were older, but their obvious wealth kept them looking young and happy. At least on the outside. Kelly’s red hair was quite pretty and her smile inviting. It was no wonder she wrote a gossip column. People probably couldn’t wait to tell her their secrets.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, hoping I came across sincere.

  “And this is Darla and Thomas Schiller.”

  “So nice to meet you.” I returned their handshakes, but they seemed less impressed by me with their curt nods. Or maybe just not quite as friendly.

  “I knew you’d be president one day,” Alton said to Cal.

  “Well, it hasn’t happened yet. Your support means a great deal to me.”

  “And you’ve got it,” Thomas adds.

  “You joined our conversation at the perfect time,” Darla says. “We were just discussing the increasing problems with student loans and I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject.”

  “We are lucky to be in the presence of an authority on the subject. Tessa teaches political science at NYU. She’s well versed in both politics and education.”

  “Education is a topic I feel passionately about, but I don’t want to take away the spotlight. Cal is the man of the hour,” I said, carefully avoiding starting a debate. “I think that no matter what, we can all agree that children are our future, and that should always be taken seriously.”

  Cal placed his hand on the small of my back in a sweet yet intimate gesture that signaled his approval. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Tessa. Building a better future starts with our youth.”

  His vague response was met with nods of agreement from the others.

  “So,” Kelly said. “Who’s your running mate going to be?”

  It was a good question. One I should’ve asked myself. One I wanted to know the answer to. In the future, the four of us—with the inclusion of his running mate’s wife—would need to work as a team.

  “I’m happy you asked,” Cal said. “I have given this much thought, obviously, and I have the perfect man in mind. Of course, we can’t make that official announcement just yet. He’s a U.S. Representative with an excellent record of getting bills passed. We’ve known each other since college. He was my fraternity brother. Hell, he’s like my brother by blood, if I am honest.” Cal was animated while talking about his friend with passion, gesturing with his hands and wearing a genuine smile. “And he has impeccable timing. Here he comes now.”

  My gaze followed Cal’s to see this wonderful man who would be his vice president, but all I saw was my lust-filled dream from earlier. I paused for a second, not comprehending what was happening, waiting for Preston to step aside so I could see Cal’s very best friend; this brother of his. But he didn’t step aside. Instead he joined our group, confidently thrusting his hand at the Spencers and Schillers as Cal introduced them. The pounding of my heart clouded my senses. I didn’t hear a word they were saying.

  He no longer had on the jacket I ruined in the fall. He was down to only wearing a fitted white tuxedo shirt, the cummerbund snugly hugging his waist.

  “And I’d like you to meet Tessa Moretti,” Cal said. “Tessa, this is Preston Dane Fitzgerald.”

  My mouth went dry as Preston reached for my hand. My nerves got the better of me. I was worried he’d bring up our disastrous run-in from earlier. With Calvin, I was going for poised and polished, not sloppy and clumsy. Preston, seemingly unfazed by seeing me with his best friend, shook my hand with ease and a smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His tone was almost teasing.

  Heat raced across my cheeks. If I didn’t get my urges under control, no one would believe I was interested in Cal, especially if I looked at Preston the way I wanted to. I leaned toward Cal like maybe if I physically aligned myself with him, my body would take the damn hint and do the same.

  “Calvin has been saying the most wonderful things about you,” Kelly told Preston.

  “He was just being modest,” Preston said. “I’m more wonderful in person.”

  Everyone laughed and the conversation picked back up again, with Kelly asking questions ranging from political to personal. I could tell I wasn’t the only one struck by his charm. Kelly positioned herself a little too close to Preston, placing her hand on his forearm and listening to him like every word was gold.

  “I’m going to get myself a drink,” I announced to Cal. “Would you like something?” I needed to get away. And maybe if he had a drink and loosened up even a little, this would all be easier to handle.

  “Nothing for me, thank you. Allow me to get your drink. What would you like?”

  I fought back the urge to sigh and roll my eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t even have one drink. Of course, he’s too much of a gentleman to let me get something on my own.

  “No.” The word came out too forcefully. “I mean, you need to stay here. Look at them. They’re loving your . . . friend. And you are why they are here, after all. You should stay.”

  Cal smiled and nodded. “You’re already turning out to be an exceptional partner.”

  I felt myself cringe inside. This was like a rollercoaster. Why did he have to say things like that? Exceptional partner? Seriously?

  As I made my way through the crowd, I cursed Preston’s piercing blue eyes. But I knew my frustration was misplaced. It was my fault for bumping into him. If only I hadn’t fallen on top of him, the whole awkward situation could’ve been avoided.

  “I thought you might want some company.” Preston came up beside me before I arrived at the bar. A part of me realized I wasn’t even startled by his presence. As if maybe I knew he would follow.

  “Sure.” I tried to sound as uninterested as possible while still remaining polite.

  When we reached the bar, I found a small open spot off to the side and leaned onto the counter for support. All the pretending was becoming too much to bear.

  Preston squeezed into the open sliver of space next to me. I stared ahead, but I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to acknowledge him.

  “I’d like to order you another champagne, but those
flutes are like weapons in your hands.”

  I laughed, despite myself. “I promise to keep it safely on the bar this time.”

  “In that case”—he gestured to the bartender—“two champagnes, please.” Our drinks were poured and delivered quickly; Preston tipping the barkeep. “So, Tessa Moretti, what brings you to this fundraiser?”

  I needed a second to think, so I took a sip. I had this rehearsed. I knew what to say. But being around him made me . . . I composed myself, turning back to my rehearsed answers. “Calvin. I’m here to support him. I think he’ll make an outstanding president.”

  “I agree. And I’ll make an outstanding vice president. I’d like to maybe convince you of that over dinner.”

  “There’s no need for that. If Cal has selected you, I’m sure you’re more than qualified.” My own response surprised me.

  “Okay, then, enough about politics, tell me something about you.” Preston leaned in closer, like he couldn’t wait for my answer.

  “I hate to break it to you, but politics are my life. I study it, I teach it, and I research it.” I took another sip of champagne, feeling calmer but wishing I had something stronger to slam back.

  “Brains and beauty. You’re turning out to be a dangerous woman, Tessa.”

  The tenor of his voice was seductive, and I desperately wanted his attention off me. “Tell me something about you.”

  He glanced from left to right conspiratorially. “Even though politics are my life too—and I’m very good at it—I hate schmoozing. I’d much rather be at home reading.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a reader,” I blurted out. As soon as I said the words, I wished I could put them back in my mouth. But he didn’t react as I tried to cover up my blunder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in a rude way. I just meant that you seem more like a social butterfly.” Something about Preston completely disarmed me. He made me want to say whatever I was thinking. The look on his face as we spoke wasn’t judgmental or expectant.

 

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