by Hazel Grace
Twirling on her heels, she strides from my office. Her ass waving goodbye to me as my hard cock twitches in protest at her exit.
Yeah. No shit.
♫ Don’t Stay — Linkin Park ♫
Another week, another dollar, with the holidays not too far away, every loaded politician and/or socialite wants to throw a party.
Shocker.
Emails have been rolling in checking availability, and I take them all—literally. Eight events are booked, and it’s what I need to keep my mind grounded and not floating over to things it shouldn’t. Emotions and shit that aren’t important because, at the end of the day, making money to pay off Mama’s bills and to make sure Marty is set up when he gets back home are my goals.
The attempt to get out of Wade’s hold—a long shot from hell.
It was more than a hundred-to-one, a Hail Mary without the skills to catch the football. There was no way in God’s given Earth that I was going to put myself in debt by taking out a loan or refinancing my house just to cut ties with him completely. He wasn’t going to put that big of an effect on my life.
But I sure as fuck was going to put one on his.
His eyes follow me through every inch of his office that can reach where I am. Ignoring him has become a new speciality of mine unless I absolutely and positively have to, in which I drag Emmy along with me.
Then I’m hit with her non-stop, not-so-subtle hints of wanting to know what happened with Wade’s wife and me.
Wife.
That word never meant anything to me before, but just thinking about it makes me cringe. I feel somewhat dirty, despite her bitchy ass little attitude after the shocker of the decade that rocked my reality. Her sweet approach turned into my being the scum of the Earth mixed with being a complete whore. And even though I didn’t know, I still feel like I did something wrong. That I recoil with disgust at my own damn self for signs maybe I should’ve seen before.
What signs those were, not sure. He made sure to keep his past classified and buried six-feet deep. Except his secret was still alive and walking around in Louboutin heels that cost more than my mortgage payment.
Except his undisclosed past didn’t seem too upset about it so I wonder if he’s done this before.
None of my business.
What is my business is my own. To keep everything afloat, to keep the money rolling into my bank account and Mama’s bills paid—plain and simple. I’ll never let another man with power have that much over me and my life again. I swore it off the moment I left Grant.
I’m swearing it off again—like a fucking unknowing idiot.
“Hey, Rea.” My knees jolt and hit the bottom of my desk before I jerk my eyes from my laptop to my office door.
Fuck.
Brown hair and mirrored eyes stare back at me, but it was the voice that startled me.
Jed sounds like Grant but with a softer tone, and if I’m summoning people now in my head, I’m in the wrong business.
Actually, it’s not Grant, but close enough.
“Hey, Jed. What’s up?” A smile appears on his face as he strides closer, dressed in a khaki-colored sweater and jeans.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” I force a weak grin because I really don’t have time for this shit or his.
“Just neck-deep in emails is all.”
Again, what the fuck do you want?
I’m not in the mood for a social call. I’m running away from my present, not a surprise visit from my own past.
“I should’ve called first—” He takes a seat in one of the plush chairs in front of my desk. “—but I was in the area.”
I perk a brow. “Yeah? Since when do you come to the west side of town?”
“Since you work here.” He lets his sentence seep into my brain before continuing with, “And I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
Reaching for my laptop, I close it, giving him my full attention and already thinking about a way to get him to leave.
It’s still awkward with us. I can’t seem to forgive myself and chalk it up as a human mistake for dating Grant. But I was right when it came to Jed. He’s naive—still is—thinking that what I did was just because I was young and dumb.
I was fully aware of what I was doing and what pain it would cause him. I was a teenager that wanted revenge—plain and simple. Fucking your enemy’s brother, you can’t get any more petty and cunt-like than that.
There’s no way in hell that he doesn’t look at me right now and ponder about how much of an asshole I was. Because I remember vividly the way he looked like he was waiting for someone to put him out of his misery each and every time I was near.
And I saw him quite a bit.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, clasping my hands together on top of my desk and throwing my business hat on.
“I know we talked about it briefly, but I wanted to discuss it further because...well, there isn’t anyone else I know that can do it. And I trust you.”
Oh, you shouldn’t.
Jed is way too nice and sweet for this superficial world. He should’ve been born into an average family who just wanted their kids to have ordinary jobs like being a teacher or an accountant. His dad was a dickhead, his mom was a flighty housewife who enjoyed getting her nails done and reading gossip magazines, and Grant—no need to go there.
“I was hoping you’d consider planning my wedding.” My stomach flips uncomfortably as he stares at me expectedly.
Ugh, no.
“Um...I’m not sure I’ll be free for—”
“It’s February 7th, a Saturday. Belle wants certain flowers and a special cake flown in from Paris. She hates blue, and...she has a laundry list of things, I can’t keep up with them all.”
“So, we’re not going for a Beauty and the Beast theme?” Jed chuckles, but it’s a cheap shot.
I don’t like her.
Never met her, don’t care.
I already know she’s not good enough for him. If she’s a socialite—which it sounds like she is if she wants a dessert flown in from across the pond—it’ll be nothing but wanting and pleading for material things. His love won’t be enough, it won’t matter because it’s not considered or needed to gain social status. A husband is just a bank account while having to put out when they want it.
I know that Jed wants more than that.
He deserves more than that. And I’m tired of him always selling himself short. Still accepting the fact that his older brother, Grant, is the golden child of the family and does nothing to show that he’s just as smart and creative.
But he won’t.
After having it beat into him his whole life, Jed will forever be second best in his family’s eyes and just another topic of conversation about having two sons bred in the family.
“Still haven’t lost the sarcasm,” Jed quips with a shake of his head.
“And probably never will.”
“There’s more.”
I exhale heavily. “Isn’t there always with the women in your world?” He wrinkles his nose at me but quickly wipes it away.
C’mon, dude, you know much I despised rich bitches.
“She’ll need her bachelorette party planned,” he states softly. “And if you could do me a huge favor…”
“I haven’t agreed to the first one yet.” Jed hits me with a pleading look as he crosses one of his legs over the other.
“Grant, he’s supposed to—”
“No.” I hold up a hand. “I can’t.”
“Rea, he will royally screw up my bachelor party. I don’t want a bus full of strippers and lap dances.” He gives a weak lift of his shoulder. “I don’t know...maybe bowling or something?”
“Bowling?”
“Yeah.” He bobs his head. “Bowling...or laser tag.”
“Jed, first of all, you’re twenty-eight, don’t you want to do something more fun, like Vegas or something?”
He bobs his head in agreement. “I could do Vegas.”
“You could gamble an
d hit a show, go see Celine Dion in concert.”
He chortles, displaying his prominent cheekbones. “No Celine Dion.”
“Are the Backstreet Boys still there because I remember you jamming out one time when—”
“That was one time.” He holds up his index finger. “To make you laugh, Rea.”
I perk a brow. “It was traumatic.”
“You cracked a smile.”
“That’s so you didn’t feel bad.”
“Mhm, you’re a closet fan, but I’ll keep your secrets. I always did.” There it goes again. Our past pulverizing into my brain like a time warp.
There was never a time that Jed wasn’t there. In fact, he was annoyingly always around. It took a long time for me to get used to the fact that he wanted to be, that he was never going to leave me, that I could always count on him.
When Marty left for the military, I was fourteen. I never thought that his leaving would have such a significant effect on me.
But it did.
I got into more trouble, I rebelled against the system because I needed an out, a way to survive because Marty’s paychecks were shit to none. The health insurance was only for essential doctor follow-ups, but nothing she needed for her cancer treatments.
Then Jed strode in on his white horse, and I wanted to knock him right off of it.
I didn’t need him, didn’t want him trying to save the day when I was doing and handling things, I thought, just fine.
If you call stealing from the drugstore and dealing on the streets fine, I was more than great.
“That’s a lot of work, Jed,” I offer. “In not a lot of time.”
He leans forward in his chair. “I know, trust me, she wants the Winter Wonderland type of wedding, and I want to give that to her.”
“Is she worth it?” I watch his face soften as he crashes back into his seat.
He could never fool me.
And I’ll be damned if I watch him walk off into the sunset with a woman who isn’t going to make him happy for the rest of his life. Anything less than what he deserves and the bar is set pretty high.
“She’s worth it,” he answers. I nod, still not accepting his answer, but it’s not my place to argue with him about it even if I want to.
I lost those privileges a long time ago. Literally shoved them away, lit them and his world on fire.
“I’ll have to have a meeting with your fiancée to get all the details,” I consent. “And if I think it’s something I can do, I’ll make it happen.”
“Really?” His brown eyes widen with excitement. Don’t know why, she sounds like a real hoot and a half.
“Yeah.”
Jed stands from his chair with a shit-eating smile on his face. “That’s amazing. When?”
“How’s Sunday?”
“Over brunch,” he offers. “The least I can do is buy you food for your trouble if you turn it down.”
I finger gun him with my hand. “Sold.”
“Thanks, Rea, I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
At least he got that part right because it’s ONLY for him.
“Call your brother and warn him that, if I decide to do this, I’ll slice his balls off if he decides to mess with me while I’m trying to work. I take it very seriously, and I’m not going to deal with his—”
“Done. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly for you.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s my job. All you need to do is show up.”
“Right.” He smiles again. “I’ll text you the place for Sunday.”
“Fantastic.”
He strides from my office and sends me a wave before he’s out the door. They say the daughter’s family pays for most of the wedding.
I’m going to extort the hell out of this unworthy hoe.
♫ Leave Me Alone — NF ♫
“It’ll be more publicity without looking obvious. It’s just something you need to do.” I stare at my press secretary, John, and blink—he’s serious.
Like, dead-ass serious as he gazes back at me with a perfectly set face of sobriety.
“You want me to buy a dog?” I ask at the head of the table in one of my conference rooms.
Em holds up her notebook to cover the smug look that I know illuminates off her face and the rest of my staff—they won’t even look at me. Rightly so, because I’m about to lose my entire shit on poor ‘ole John.
“Isn’t that a little excessive?” Heidi suddenly chimes in at my right—thank fuck. If she hadn't agreed to run with me as my vice president, it would’ve left me with having to look for someone else that I liked—which wasn’t many.
I genuinely like and enjoy Heidi. She’s smart, easy-going, could hold a conversation that didn’t bore me to death, and she wasn’t pushy. She listened, cared, liked to talk about other things that weren’t a law or a bill.
She was normal.
I need that in my life, more than ever. Now that I had a piece of it with Reagan. And to top it all off, Heidi would be a great asset to the country.
John shakes his head, setting his pen down over the several sheets of scattered paper in front of him. “Absolutely not. I mean, the public loves dogs. Governor, it’d make you more relatable. Humble. We still need to build you up on what kind of man you are. You’re still quite a mystery to the nation.”
I glance at Heidi, who shrugs noncommittally but silently doesn’t disagree with him either. My nostrils flare in defeat before bringing my attention back to John. “Alright...set up a day I can go to a shelter.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Emmy quips, tapping something into her phone.
“And you’ll need to name it something...maybe kind of trendy or American,” John continues. “Like Bailey or Luna, maybe even Washington.”
My brows snap together. “Now you want me to name the fucking dog some dumbass name like—” Heidi taps the top of my hand with hers.
“I’ll name the dog, Governor. Women have better taste, no offense.” I nod, grateful for her save, yet still irritated that I have to deal with a dog in my house now. I don’t have fucking time to train it, walk it, and feed it. That’s all I need is to murder the poor thing from neglect.
“The next thing we need to decide on is the charity events for Christmas,” Emmy pipes in. “We have so many options, and Reagan actually suggested that—”
“Where is she?” I blurt-ask as calmly as I can while memories of her sucking my cock against my desk protrude my thoughts. “If we have to pick one, I’d like to know what options she has available.”
“My fault,” Emmy replies. “I didn’t think about her being in one of these meetings. I’ll get ahold of her and get a list of things she suggested.”
It’s at the tip of my tongue to tell Em to bring her ass in the office so I can hear her say them herself but refrain.
She avoids me like the plague enough in my own office that I know Em has caught onto it but dares not ask me why. Which poses more questions, I’m sure, in her head about why, how, and what for.
I’m not ready for all that shit—never will be.
“Is she the pretty dark-haired woman at your surprise birthday party?” Heidi chimes with a smile, obviously unaware of anything.
I nod. “That’d be the one.”
Heidi leans back in her chair. “She’s lovely. We talked about the poverty rate in the town she grew up in.” She snaps her fingers. “Daphne, I think it was. And she made great points about how to change the mold and the atmosphere of the people. Do you mind if I have a meeting with her, Governor? I promise I won’t interfere with her work.”
I contract a weak smile. “Absolutely, Heidi, whatever you need.”
“Hiii!” I didn’t notice the door open, but I, unfortunately, know the ear-shattering voice that just bellowed in the room.
Glancing over, Demi stands with a behemoth smile on her face. The definition of perky, pretty, and a fucking pest. Her brown hair with blonde highlights is pushed back from her sunglasses prop
ped on top of her head, and her soft pink dress makes her look innocent.
Angelic.
A fucking liar.
“Demi,” Emmy drones, standing from the table. “What can we do for you?” The she-devil steps further in the room, taking in the plain blue walls and basic-ass table that we’re all sitting around before her eyes fall to me.
“Just here to see my husband.” I adjust my jaw while Heidi and John begin to stand from the table, but I extend my hand.
“No, please, this will only take a moment.” I get to my feet and button up my suit jacket. “Emmy, could you please go over the schedule with John and Heidi for next week, I’ll be right back.”
Em shoots me a worried look but nods and sits back down. Gesturing for Demi to get the hell out of my conference room, she does, and we make the inconvenient walk to my office. But not until I get to hear about how I need to re-decorate the place and how deathly quiet it is in here.
Inside my suite, she makes herself at home while gawking at the limited decorations and how clean I keep the place.
“What can I do for you, Demi?” I ask off a heavy sigh. “I’m in the middle of a meeting, as you can see.”
“I wanted to know when you decided to announce our reconciliation publicly,” she conveys. “So that I can go out and buy a new dress for—”
“I’m not.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows narrow at me. “What?”
“Last time I checked, you didn’t have a hearing problem, just a mental one.” I stand behind my chair, waiting to answer all her dumbass questions so I can get back to what’s important, what I can rely on—my team and my fucking job.
“You thought I was going to sit back in Paris and not come home when you got the presidency?”
I lift my shoulders. “Haven’t gotten it yet.”
“But you more than likely will.”
“Thank you for the faith,” I drone. “Was that all?” Demi pushes herself to stand and leans over my desk with her palms.
“We need to come up with a plan on how to properly do this. We’ve been separated for almost five years.”
I cock my head to the side. “And why’s that?” Her nostrils flare, ready to spit fire at me because she’s not in denial. She just won’t admit her sins out loud.