“So I don’t have to be jealous? Why not give me the password?”
“You’re being pushy about this. It’s unprofessional.”
Mariel slammed a hand over her mouth, smothering a gasp, as the trench coat was hung from a bar stool. Dallas’s hand on her shoulder pinched, a warning, the pain blossoming quickly. She managed to stay silent.
Ellen was naked under the trench coat, the round curve of her ass leaning against the bar. Before Mariel had admired Ellen’s grace and class. This was a little over the top; she wondered why Ellen was throwing everything that she had at Roger. She was desperate. They just needed Roger to get her to say it.
“Ellen, what are you doing?”
“Persuading you.”
“You’re getting naked over a password?” There was a cold edge to his voice and Mariel feared Roger would give away the game before it played out.
“No. I’m reminding you of how much I care. How much I’d give you. I’ll give you all of me, Roger, in any way you want it. We both know your tastes can be a little eclectic. There was that whole business a few years ago…”
“This is sounding less like you’re reminding me of how much you care and more about reminding me of things I’d rather not speak of.”
“I’m showing you that you can trust me.”
“Put your coat back on.”
“Password first.”
Roger’s feet moved into Mariel’s view. He was trying to close in on Ellen, intimidate her. Mariel knew all too well how aggressive the Taylor’s could be. It seemed Roger was done being coy.
“I didn’t want to ask you about this, not directly. Why have you been e-mailing Bill to move money from the campaign to foreign accounts?”
There was a crash as the wine glass hit the floor, shards exploding out. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. It’s why you are so desperate for my password. I looked for the emails in my account, but you were clever enough to fully delete them. Bill, on the other hand, did not.”
“There’s nothing going on, Roger, this is all news to me—“ Her voice was beginning to escalate, shrill and teary. She yanked the trench off of the chair, hastily putting it on.
“Ellen, enough. I know it was you.”
“You can’t prove anything.” The hem of the coat was jerked tight and Mariel could picture Ellen clutching it to herself, trying to shield herself from the accusations. They were almost there, but it wasn’t quite an admission of guilt.
“I’m leaving, Roger. I don’t have to listen to this.”
“Yes, you do.” Paige’s voice cut through. Dallas tensed behind her. Mariel froze, her body shaking. What was her friend doing? “I have your phone here, Ellen. You should have kept your bag with you instead of leaving it with the butler.”
Ellen screamed, “Give that back, you bitch!”
“Sure, just let me finish forwarding Roger and myself all of these texts. You know the ones. The ones from ‘S?’ Who’s ‘S?’”
Ellen’s feet started to move toward Paige, but she was halted quickly; Roger had her arm. Dallas was shaking, tense, unsure if he should reveal himself.
“This is a good one. Ellen, I need you to transfer $20,000 to the following account. Find an excuse for Taylor’s accountant. That’s clear enough. Ooooh, or this one: Ellen, I am indebted to you for all of your help. This will get us what we both want, you’ll see. What is it you both want, Ellen?” Paige was almost shouting now, triumphant in her victory.
A choking sob escaped from Ellen. “You don’t understand, I don’t have a choice.”
Roger stepped away from her, his face frozen. “We all have choices Ellen. You made one to betray me.”
“I had to, Roger! You don’t know him! You don’t know what he’s like! I was doing it to protect you! To protect us!”
“How is stealing from me protecting us?”
“Oh Roger, he knows… he knows so much. And what he doesn’t know for fact, he can create, he can make anything happen. He was going to destroy you! I had to do what he said!”
It had become too much for Dallas. He sprung forward, the door of the pantry slamming open. Mariel suddenly felt incredibly awkward, huddling on the floor in plain sight, her phone in her hand.
Ellen’s face was dumbfounded as she looked from Mariel to Dallas. “My god, what is this?”
“Tell me who it is Ellen,” Dallas coaxed. “You know what I do for Roger. I’ll take care of him, whoever he is. He won’t threaten you or Roger again.” His voice was even, smooth. Mariel got chills; that smooth voice was dangerous. She wasn’t sure how far Dallas was willing to go to get the information out of Ellen.
Apparently Ellen shared her sentiments. Shaking her head furiously, mascara streaking down her face, Ellen burst into a pitiful laugh. “I’m so fucked. You don’t know him.”
Her hand reached into the pocket of the trench coat and brought out a tiny gun, trained on Roger. Dallas immediately made to move closer, to step in the line of fire for his brother.
“Don’t even fucking think it, Dallas. If you knew who we are dealing with…”
Dallas kept moving until Ellen cocked the gun. “This isn’t a bluff, Dallas. I’m in it too deep to bluff. I just, I just can’t see another way out.” She brought the gun up center with Roger’s chest. “I really did love you. I only wanted the best for you. This wasn’t supposed to turn out so wrong. This way we’ll both be safe… and together.”
Mariel had always read that people experienced traumatic events in slow motion. That time slowed down and everything was clear, burned into memory. Whoever said that had lied.
Things moved so quickly that Mariel didn’t have the time or clarity to make a decision. She could only react. She heard Dallas scream “No,” as Ellen bit back a tear-filled “goodbye.” Mariel stood up, quickly. She was closest to Ellen. Her hands had reached out, but whether to stop the woman or embrace her she couldn’t say.
A shot rang out.
Mariel felt a burning sensation in her side. She gripped it and her hands felt wet. There was another loud bang.
Mariel’s world went black.
Chapter Fifteen
The beeps of machines and the smell of antiseptic woke Mariel up. Her eyelids were heavy, reluctant to lift. The brightness of the room made her wince.
Then she felt the pain. It was an intense burn on her left side, near her ribcage. The pain laced through her skin, her nerves knit in a web of agony from the front to her back.
“Mariel?” Gravel and honey, and the greatest sound she had ever heard.
“Mmmm.” Her mind was buzzing but her mouth had yet to catch up. “Water?”
A straw touched her lips. As she began to suck lukewarm water in, she looked into the eyes of the person she had most wanted to see. Steel blue, but not hard or cynical. No, this time Dallas’s eyes were soft and swimming with worry.
Releasing the straw, she licked her lips. “Are you okay?”
His smirk, that gorgeous, beautiful smirk, appeared. “Yeah, I’m fine. So are Roger and Paige.”
“What happened?”
She would have enjoyed the softer edges of concern on his face if she hadn’t been in so much pain. “You were shot.”
That explained the pain. “Am I okay?”
He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes. It was the most disheveled she had seen him, which touched her. “You’re fine. Lucky, but fine. The bullet missed all your vital organs, going straight through you. You’ll have a scar and it’ll hurt like hell for a while, but it was a clean shot. Another inch in and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
His voice cracked on the last few words and he looked away from her. She wanted to comfort him, but it was taking a surprising amount of energy just to stay awake and focused.
“What about Ellen?”
He turned stormy, anger and resentment in every line etched into his beautiful skin. “She killed herself when she realized she had shot you in
stead of Roger.”
“Oh god… that’s awful.” Tears filled Mariel’s eyes. “She must’ve been so frightened.”
“You feel badly for her? About the woman who shot you?”
“Yes. She looked so terrified. We ambushed her--”
Dallas made to protest, but she stopped him. “I know she majorly screwed up. But now she’s gone, and we won’t know why.”
“No, no answers. Someone out there was using her to hurt Roger.”
“Did you tell the police about the records?”
“Yes. You never stopped recording the conversation, you know. The police have enough evidence to keep Roger in the clear about the money.”
“But the press…”
His finger shushed her, then traced a tender line along her cheekbone. “Enough worrying, E.B. Just rest now. We’ll figure everything out together later.”
“Assuming I come back.”
His hand froze, fingertips in her hair. “What do you mean?”
“Dallas, in my time as intern, I’ve been humiliated by my boss, slept with him, discovered a political conspiracy, and been shot. I’m exhausted.”
He leaned in, then, and kissed her. It was soft and sweet. She liked it for the sentiment, but it wasn’t him, so she nipped his lip. Dallas growled in response. “Hey, I’m being nice here.”
“You don’t know how to be nice.”
He laughed and she felt warm inside. Safe.
“No, I guess I don’t. Well then, E.B., I expect you to get better. Like, yesterday. I can’t have my work time stolen just so I can look after you. That shot was just a scratch. Get over it and get to the office. I hear we’re out of coffee cups.”
She only heard the first bit as she drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that he was there.
* * * *
The last time that Dallas had invited Roger and Paige over to dinner had ended in fear and tragedy. This time, it ended with three empty bottles of wine, full stomachs, and many laughs. Roger was himself again. Mariel felt honored to be one of the few who ever saw him in non-politician mode.
She even felt comfortable enough with him to ask about it. “Is it hard, Roger? Keeping it up the image all of the time?”
He shrugged. “Yes and no. I’ve been doing it for so long that it feels easy to shift into the act. We watched our father do it, too. For a while, when I first began running for office, I think I wanted to just be myself.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Because I wasn’t getting votes. For better or for worse, the public wanted a politician. In order to get where I needed to be, to help make the changes I wanted to, I needed to play the part. So I learned how.” He steepled his fingers in front of his face, thinking. “Now it isn’t so bad. I don’t feel like I’m lying about who I am. When I speak, or when I use Paige’s speeches, I make sure that I am saying things I believe in. It’s one thing to be an actor in order to make people comfortable. It is another to lie about one’s intentions. I don’t mind the first part, but I despise the politicians who participate in the second. Lies slow progress, they make people angry, and in the end you lose the very thing you needed to make changes; credibility.”
“You sound very honorable, Senator,” Mariel joked. It wasn’t a joke, though. It was true. They had talked broad politics during dinner and Roger was obviously still one of the good guys. He wanted better, cleaner energy policies. Education reform. And close to Mariel’s heart, he wanted to help improve the lives of America’s poorest. She had told them about her upbringing, about the struggle and the sacrifice it had taken to get into a good school. About how she was lucky, but there weren’t enough avenues for every poor child to follow in her footsteps.
It had been nice. Comforting.
And uneasy, for while they all had a splendid time talking, there was something they weren’t discussing openly yet; the man who had set Ellen up; the money that had disappeared.
Ellen had said she had been trying to save Roger by sabotaging his campaign. If setting him up was saving him, Mariel shuddered to think of what the alternative was.
The good news had been the press had covered the story but left important parts out. They covered Ellen’s threat and suicide, and that money had been stolen. But there was no mention of the blackmail that Ellen had spoken of, or the mysterious man. That was because Roger and Dallas had decided not to tell the police. When Mariel had asked Dallas about it, he had only replied that some things were best left alone.
Ellen had suggested that something in Roger’s past was enough to destroy him. Some part of her wanted to know what it was. But she remembered her photos, those naked ones taken in college to pay the bills. She had told Dallas about them, of course. While he could never know the kind of desperation she had felt when she had taken that job, he didn’t judge her for it, either.
“I don’t mind your secret, Mariel. But Roger’s is his to keep and not mine to share.”
So she let it go. It was, after all, in Roger’s past, and there was something much more ominous looming in his future.
Roger and Dallas were working on a plan. Until Mariel was healed, Dallas said, he wasn’t ready to include her yet. The part they did want to include her in, though, surprised her.
“Mariel, I’d like to offer you a job,” Roger said, shaking her hand as he and Paige prepared to leave.
Mariel’s blush came from too much wine, but she felt embarrassed and delighted. “Dallas didn’t say anything! I’d be happy to join. I’m sorry I haven’t been in, yet, but the doctor said—“
“Of course. We understand. When you’re ready, though, you’ll have to learn quickly. It’s a big job.”
She realized that she had accepted but he hadn’t told her what she’d be doing. “Er…which job is it?”
“Speech writer.”
Mariel’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what?”
“I need a new personal assistant. Someone I can trust. Paige never really wanted to be in speeches, anyway. We’re splitting her job between you and a few of the other interns; more voices will help me, I think, create a more understanding campaign.”
She wanted to say something, something elegant and full of gratitude, but Mariel was so excited all she could do was stand with her mouth open. “But you don’t even know if I’m qualified for that position!”
“Of course I do. I contacted your old professors and found some of your university papers.” Dallas looked smug. “You think I wouldn’t vet each hire? You’re a great writer. With a little help from Paige, I think you’ll fit in just fine.”
“From coffee runs to speech writing? Are you serious?” Mariel had known Dallas was going to stop treating her poorly at the office, but she had only thought she’d be doing actual intern work. This was so much better. She nodded, accepting the offer.
Roger shook her hand again. “Glad you approve. We look forward to your return.”
He stepped out and Paige rushed in, pulling Mariel into a full hug. “I’ve been dying to tell you, but they made me promise not to!”
It was easy to return her friend’s generous hug. “I just can’t believe it. I’m going to be asking you for a ton of tips, you know.”
Paige stepped back, beaming. “Of course.”
“And I’ll be asking a lot of questions about Roger. And this whole ‘personal’ assistant thing you’ll be doing.”
It was Paige’s turn to blush. “That… is still a place I need a few answers on as well. Roger’s been shaken up since Ellen. So far things feel very, well, formal.”
“But you love spending time with him.”
“Oh yes. Yes I do.”
They shared a smile, and then Dallas said a quick goodbye, ushering Paige out after Roger.
He turned to Mariel. “So you’re happy?”
There was an earnestness to his voice that she relished. “Yes. Of course, you won’t be my boss anymore. No more controlling me.”
He stepped forward, close, and she pressed back agai
nst the wall. His hands shot to either side of her head, pinning her in. “Are you so sure about that?”
Her body heated, his presence intoxicating. “Yes, I’m pretty sure about that. At least in the office.” As soon as she said it, though, Mariel jerked, realizing something. “Oh god, everyone is going to think I slept with the boss to get a job!”
Dallas laughed and kissed her then, deep. His tongue moved into her mouth and she moaned, breathing him in.
He broke of the kiss. “You only saved Roger’s career, Mariel. I’m pretty sure sleeping with the boss was just a bonus for me.”
“But no one knows—“
He smothered her words with another kiss. His lips began to trail down her cheek, her neck. Mariel felt a familiar heat and wetness growing between her legs. “It won’t matter. We are moving some of the other promising interns into the job, too. And they did not sleep with me to get the job. You earned it by putting up with me, not by putting out to me.”
Her arms slid up and around his neck. She felt a tiny tug at the wound in her side. It was two months after she had been shot, but it still ached sometimes. Times like these, when all she wanted was Dallas’s body crushed against hers.
“We’ve got to stop.”
“Why?” His fingers trailed under the hem of her shirt, grazing the skin of her stomach lightly.
“The doctor said no rough activities for three months. And you—“ she gasped as he began to slide a hand into the waist of her pants, “are not fond of gentle things. Getting me worked up is cruel.”
“I thought you liked me cruel. Besides, I have a plan.”
Oh, and did he ever.
Chapter Sixteen
Apparently Dallas was creative as well as cruel. He liked rough sex, but he liked control, more. After she was shot, he had asked Mariel to move in with him.
Mariel refused. She stayed over often and knew that one day, soon, she’d accept and move in. But it had felt rushed and she had needed to succeed on her own a little, first.
She had been surprised, too, at how fondly she felt when she returned to her awful apartment, because it was the first thing she had succeeded at making her own when she moved to D.C. Dallas had seen it and thought she was crazy, but she also got the impression that it meant a great deal to him that she wasn’t rushing into living with him just because he had money.
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