Hard to Get Over

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Hard to Get Over Page 8

by Jenny Gardiner


  As they walked down the hallway toward the studio, Janie filled the senator in on timing. “Congressman Tanner is already in there with his aid waiting on you, sir,” she said.

  “Tell Tanner he can go fuck himself if he’s going to play nasty,” the senator said as I elbowed him in the ribs, reminding him that speaking to members of the media in that way was not conducive to the best coverage.

  As they entered the studio, Deborah Mott, the anchor who would be moderating the debate stepped forward. “Senator DeLallo! So lovely to see you again!” she reached forward to shake his hand, the one he’d just used to pee with, but he pulled her in and kissed her on the cheek. Manhandling a woman against her will was a skill he’d mastered long ago. “Looking good, Debbie baby.” He pinched her butt. Meghan wished she could fade into the darkness that enveloped the outer ring of the cold studio. Instead, Deborah escorted them toward the empty dais. DeLallo’s challenger, Congressman Tanner, a boyish thirty-something military veteran with dimples and a golden boy smile, stood erect and waiting. Meghan wondered why she couldn’t work for someone so easy on the eyes, rather than her boss, who looked much like those large rodents you see dragging a slice of pizza down the steps of the subway on YouTube.

  “Senator, I’m sure you’ve met Congressman Tanner,” Deborah said. “And this is his new press secretary, Kirby McCaffrey.”

  Meghan’s ears perked up. Kirby. How many press secretaries named Kirby were in this town? She strained to look past her boss, past the anchor woman, past the congressman and there she saw him, in all his still-hot glory. Well fuck. Of all the guys she could have teased and made out with in this town, it had to be him?

  “Meaghan?” he said a bit too loud. Meaghan pretended she was busy with papers she was perusing. “Meaghan? Is that you?”

  “Who’s Meaghan?” his boss asked him.

  “Over there,” he said, pointing straight at her. “That’s the woman I told you I was making out with at the bar last night.”

  Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick. Really? Who tells their boss that sort of thing?

  “Remember I told you about the gorgeous woman? But she wouldn’t give me her number? But here she is—”

  The rest of what he said faded away immediately, because the mercurial Senator Antonio DeLallo, the man whose capricious temper could swing wilder than a menopausal woman in a heat wave, turned to Meghan, flames practically licking from his beady black eyes. “You fucked Tanner’s press guy? After what he said yesterday? Is there something wrong with you? You can’t just keep your panties on, you just meet someone in a bar and the next thing you know you’ve got your hands down his pants?”

  Count to ten, Meghan. Count to ten. She bit her lip and began to count: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six—

  “You’re fired and don’t even bother returning to the office for your things.”

  “But senator, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I heard all I needed to hear,” he said. “I’m not good enough for you but this little fairy boy is fine enough for you to have sex with?”

  “I didn’t have sex with anyone. Please.” As much as she hated the guy, she needed the income. She needed the job. Her whole uptight identity was wrapped up in it.

  “Out.” His face had turned red and veins in his neck were bulging as he pointed at her. She’d witnessed this kind of rage in him before. It was almost a form of foreplay for him, when he wanted to impress women he was around he always screamed at staffers and intentionally humiliated them. He must’ve thought Deborah would find it a turn-on. Highly unlikely. He looked like a feral honey badger in heat.

  But Meghan knew there was no placating him. When his fury became volcanic, the eruption would continue and there would be no reasoning with him. His poor driver would be stuck trying to talk him off the ledge. Either which way, Meghan knew she was officially jobless. Thanks to that loud-mouthed piece of shit guy she stupidly flirted with last night.

  She turned to Kirby. “Admit it: I was right. All men are assholes. You included.”

  Preorder Hard to Get By now!

  About Jenny

  JENNY GARDINER IS AN award-winning #1 Kindle bestselling author who has published 37 novels, a memoir, and a collection of essays. Her work has been found in Ladies Home Journal, the Washington Post, Marie-Claire.com, Paste Magazine, and on National Public Radio. She is an occasional essayist on regional NPR affiliate WVTF-FM, and wrote a humorous column in Charlottesville’s Daily Progress for over a decade as well as a food column for Cville Weekly Magazine. She has worked as a publicist for a United States senator, and as a freelance photographer, photographing such notable public figures as Prince Charles, Elizabeth Taylor, and the President of Uganda. She’s been the volunteer coordinator for the Virginia Film Festival for ten years. She’s really bad at math. Find her at www.jennygardiner.net

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  Also by Jenny Gardiner

  Confessions of a Chick Magnet

  Skirt Chaser

  Boy Toy

  Cabana Boy

  Bird Dog

  Lady Killer

  Falling for Mr. Wrong

  Falling for Mr. Wrong

  Falling for Mr. Maybe

  Falling for Mr. No Way In Hell

  Falling for Mr. Sometimes

  Falling for Mr. Right

  Falling for Mr. Wrong Series (Books 1 - 3)

  Hard to Get

  Hard to Get

  Hard to Get Over (Coming Soon)

  Hard to Get By (Coming Soon)

  Hard to Get Lucky

  It's Reigning Men

  Something in the Heir

  Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow

  Bad to the Throne

  Love is in the Heir

  Shame of Thrones

  Throne for a Loop

  It's Getting Hot in Heir

  A Court Gesture

  It's Reigning Men - Books 1 - 3

  The Royal Romeos

  Red Hot Romeo

  Black Sheep Romeo

  Red Carpet Romeo

  Blue Collar Romeo

  Silver Spoon Romeo

  Blue-Blooded Romeo

  Big O Romeo

  The Royal Romeos Series (Books 1 - 3)

  Standalone

  Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

  Where the Heart Is

  Accidentally on Purpose

  Compromising Positions

  Naked Man on Main Street

  Bite Me - A Parrot, a Family, and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds

  Anywhere but Here

  Slim to None

  Watch for more at Jenny Gardiner’s site.

 

 

 


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