James didn’t want to watch whatever video Deni had pulled up. He wanted to get inside and protect Molly from the vicious throng of reporters.
The image caught his eye and the words he’d been about to snap froze in his throat. A reporter asked Molly questions while Molly guided the reporters around the center. “That’s Molly,” he said, and shoved the tablet back at Deni. He then hurried inside and…!
Came to an abrupt halt at the back of the herd of reporters.
“Are you going to endorse James Morgan for his Senate race?” one of the reporters called out.
Molly smiled politely, and touched the shoulder of the nearest teenager. “Desiree, what are you working on?”
Desiree, a teenager around fifteen years old, smiled shyly at the cameras. “We’re helping Louise and Nora knead bread for lunch,” she explained.
Molly took over, beaming at the cameras. “Louise and Nora are retired bakers who make cookies and healthy, whole wheat bread for the center’s lunches. Many of the local grocery stores donate bread and food items, but those are often the less healthy items from their stores. They are items that the customers didn’t want or need, so they donate them to local charities,” she continued, speaking clearly to be heard over the bustle of the room. The reporters were scribbling wildly. “What we really need are fresh fruits and vegetables. Produce supports these kids’ health, giving them the nutrition they need, which gives them the energy to concentrate more effectively in school. Also, eating healthy foods cuts down on afternoon slumps. White bread is essentially like eating sugar. We try to avoid providing too many sweets to our kids here at the center.”
One of the reporters lifted her hand in the air. “What does James Monroe think about your efforts?”
Molly laughed. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him about his impressions of our programs. But I do know that James personally delivered a bushel of apples to the kitchen the other day.” Molly turned and looked directly at the cameras. “If anyone has fruit trees or vegetable gardens, and you grow too much to eat yourself, please consider taking the excess to the local food pantries in your area.” Her smile brightened, “Or you could drop it off here. We love locally grown, fresh produce!”
The reporters laughed, amused by her plug for extra resources.
“But are you in a romantic relationship with James Monroe?”
Molly shrugged. “Romantic?” She lifted the back of her hand to her forehead and fluttered her eyes. “Alas, Mr. Monroe has not declared his undying love for me.” Her eyes twinkled when she looked back at the reporter. “I suspect that there are plenty of other ladies out there in the same situation. So never fear, ladies!” she declared grandly, lifting a hand with her finger pointed upwards, “there is still hope!”’
The reporters laughed and loved it, while James clenched his teeth in the back of the crowd. For one wild moment, he wanted to interrupt and tell the crowd that she was wrong – that he was off the market.
Deni must have realized his intention because she put a hand to his arm. Looking up, she stared into his eyes, subtly shaking her head. “Don’t do it,” she mouthed.
“So, if you’re not romantically involved, can you explain your presence at the gala last week? You were also seen at the Willard Hotel on James Morgan’s arm.”
Again, James drew breath to interrupt. But before he had a chance, Molly offered that beautiful smile of hers. “That night was all about talking with others about what we’re doing here at the community center. We’re constantly in need of additional funding, so that we can offer more services and programs to the neighborhood families. If anyone would like to donate, we’re always happy to accept even small amounts. Anything helps us to better serve our community.”
He heard Deni laugh softly. James was impressed with how well she continued to steer the conversation back to the center.
James remained in the back as Molly led them from one area of the room to the next, showing off the various activities the summer youth program offered to the neighborhood kids. And at every pause, she asked for donations, never missing a chance to extol the virtues of what they were doing and how these activities could help future leaders.
“Are you planning to endorse James Morgan?” another reporter called out.
Molly stared at the woman, not sure how to answer this one. She’d been startled by the direct question several times, but now, everyone stared at her and she didn’t think she could dodge it again.
Yes, he’d sexually tortured her last night, demanding that she agree to marry him. But that had been just bedroom talk. Hadn’t it? Her heart ached at the thought, but she pushed that sensation away. This wasn’t the time to mentally examine the events of the previous night. She needed to focus.
“Well, to be honest, I have been so busy with the end of the summer program and trying to get tutors lined up for the before and after school tutoring program here at the center, I haven’t really been following the campaign that closely.”
There, that should be a non-committal reply, she thought.
“There’s a campaign rally this afternoon,” another reporter asked. “Will you attend in order to hear about his major talking points?”
Wow! These guys didn’t give up. They were like a dog with a bone!
“That sounds like a great idea,” she agreed, not stating firmly that she would or wouldn’t attend.
A deep male voice from the back of the group interrupted the next reporter’s question. “Apparently, I have a lot of convincing to do,” James announced to the group.
The reporters swung around, a couple stumbling under the weight of their heavy equipment.
“Mr. Morgan,” one resilient reporter called out, “Do you intend to pursue Ms. Bradshaw romantically?”
James didn’t shift his gaze away. Not by a flicker of his eyes did he reveal anything about the previous evening. “Perhaps I should sway Ms. Bradshaw over to my politics before pursuing a romantic relationship, shouldn’t I? I mean, what if she thinks my ideas are insane?”
The reporters laughed, delighted with his teasing tone. James took several minutes to walk around the center, again showcasing the programs that were offered and holding up the center as a good example of how communities can pull together to get things done.
He answered several more questions from the reporters, avoided the romantic questions, and then ended the impromptu press briefing with a nod of his head and a polite, “Thank you all for coming by.”
He walked over to where Molly stood, watching him. “May I have a private word?” he asked, aware of the reporters who were slowly walking out, eavesdropping on every word. Especially if it had the potential to reveal romantic interest between their favorite news topic and a woman. They were practically salivating, but Molly understood the game and nodded just as politely. “Absolutely,” she replied easily. “How about in my office?”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
They stepped into her office and she pressed herself back behind her desk so that James could shift the chairs around and get the door closed. “I don’t usually work in here,” she explained self-consciously. “I generally take my work out to the main room and find an empty table during the quiet times in the mid-morning or afternoons before the kids come back from school.”
“Why did you leave this morning?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared down at her.
Molly opened her mouth to reply, but through the window of her office, she spotted a reporter lingering just on the other side of the wide entry hallway. “I got a phone call, letting me know that reporters were here,” she explained, tilting her head slightly, trying to silently tell him they had an audience.
James sighed, rolling his eyes, but the movement wasn’t visible to the reporter. “I get it,” he finally said. “But we’re not finished. When are you off today?”
Molly shrugged. “We don’t have a lot going on today since its Saturday. But–”
“Will you hav
e dinner with me again tonight?” he interrupted.
Molly wasn’t sure what to say. “What happens if the reporters follow me? Or you?”
She knew that she had a valid point, but his eyes hardened. “I want to see you.”
She stared at her desktop as she took a deep breath. “James, this is becoming…complicated. I don’t think–”
“Molly,” he interrupted. That one word was all he needed to say in order to bring her gaze up to meet his. “Don’t.”
Tears swam in her eyes as she thought about the reporters’ questions.
“Are you only here to get my endorsement?” she asked. It was the question that had been zinging through her head ever since the first reporter had asked it earlier this morning.
She watched as his jaw tightened. “Do you really believe that?” he asked softly, but with lethal effect.
Molly considered for a long moment, and her response for an even longer moment. This was James. Everything she knew about him told her that he was a decent, honest person. If he’d been romancing her simply for her endorsement, then…no, he wouldn’t have done that. He didn’t manipulate people. He was simply too honest for that. Finally, she shook her head. “No. No, I don’t believe that of you.”
He released a breath and nodded sharply. “Good.” His fingers clenched and unclenched, until he finally stuffed them into his pockets. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen, Molly,” he warned, impatiently pulling his hands back out of his pockets and bracing them wide against her desk. “You’re going to come to my speech this afternoon. You’re going to decide if my main campaign points are worthwhile. And if so, I’d like to formally ask you to endorse me.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Does that sound like a good plan?”
Molly nodded, agreeing that his suggestion was fair.
“Good. Then I’m going to drive over to your apartment this afternoon to pick you up.” She opened her mouth to stop his argument. “We’ll go to my place. You know that I have an underground parking lot, so no one will see us going inside. Then I’m going to make dinner for us. After that, I’m going to make love to you. And tomorrow morning, we will discuss this endorsement and how it might impact the center and your life, both negatively and positively. Any objections?”
Molly’s heart pounded against her chest, as she shook her head. “None,” she finally managed to say.
“Excellent. Then I’ll leave now, and hopefully, the reporters will follow me out. That should give you a bit of time to recover from this morning’s impromptu gathering.” He stood up and nodded. For a long moment, Molly wondered if he was going to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Instead, he nodded, but she could see the look in his eyes and knew that he wanted that kiss just as much as she did. “My assistant, Deni, will send you the details of my speech. I’ll see you there.”
With that, he turned and left. Molly watched, admiring the strength of his shoulders and…okay, also his butt. He had a very nice butt! She’d felt it in her hands last night, but she hadn’t seen it. Today, she looked her fill.
“Nice, right?”
Molly jumped, startled to find a man with a notepad and pen. Obviously a reporter, she thought and pulled herself together, instantly wary. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”
“Mike Mckinsky,” the guy said, extending his hand.
Molly looked at this “Mike’ fellow closely. He looked a bit worse for wear, but she suspected print reporters probably looked more bedraggled than the on-camera reporters. They didn’t have to primp and look good for the cameras. This guy looked as if he’d grabbed whatever clothing smelled the least offensive from the floor of his bedroom.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mike. Did you have any other questions about the Center or the programs here?”
“Nah,” he chuckled. “I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on between you and the new Virginia prince.”
“Prince?” she asked, not sure who he was referring to.
Mike nodded toward the door James had left through. “James Morgan. The new Virginia royalty. We’ve dubbed him ‘The Prince’ because he’s basically Prince Charming, don’t you agree?”
Molly glanced at the door. Unfortunately, he was out of her line of sight. So she turned her attention back to Mike. “Well, I’m sure that he’s very charming, but as for dubbing him royalty…I doubt that he’d appreciate the title.”
Mike chuckled. “Every guy wants to be Prince Charming, don’t ya think?”
She shifted impatiently. “I don’t know every guy’s opinion on the subject, so I can’t speak with any authority one way or the other.”
The reporter nodded easily, even as his eyes narrowed. “You’re pretty slick, aren’t ye?”
The words were relatively benign, but the man’s tone had turned nasty. Straightening her shoulders, she frowned at him. “I think that it’s time for you to leave,” she replied, insulted and in need of a shower.
Mike grinned, clearly relishing his role as provocateur. “No worries,” he said, lifting his hands in the air, palms out. “I’ll get out of your hair. Just…” he shrugged, doing a decent impression of George Clooney’s smirk. “I’ll be on the lookout. Something doesn’t smell right around here.” With that, he left, sniffing the air as if he smelled something foul.
Molly glared at the man’s back, furious that he would make such a horrible statement about her precious community center. These were good people, volunteers that were working hard to make this neighborhood a better place to live! How dare he say that the place was doing something wrong!
When he’d finally hit the parking lot, Molly paced for several minutes, trying to calm down. The ding from her phone warned her that she had a new message. Looking at the phone, she realized that it was from a woman named “Deni” and she’d sent a time and address for James’ speech this afternoon.
Immediately, her mood lightened. She felt a zing of happiness at the prospect of seeing James this afternoon. Plus, she was truly interested in hearing his campaign speech. It would probably be the same crap that other candidates trotted out every election, but at least she’d be able to see James this afternoon. That would make the day special.
Chapter 11
Molly slipped into the back, smoothing the black, sheath dress down over her hips self-consciously as she took her seat. There was a low hum of conversation as the crowd waited for the speech to begin, but there wasn’t really much energy in the room.
There should be energy, right? Molly didn’t like the fact that everyone seemed to be a bit humdrum. There was no anticipation, no excitement, at the prospect of seeing James speak about his political platform. Granted, Molly still had no idea about the issues on which James was running for office. But she still wanted him to do well. She wanted people to be excited about him, about what he could do for them.
Okay, so she didn’t know exactly what James hoped to accomplish in office. And she was probably excited because she was eager to see James. After this morning’s craziness with the reporters, she’d gone into her office so that she could finish some paperwork, but her concentration was shot.
So, why was she lurking in the back of this auditorium? Why wasn’t she down in front, ready to cheer him on? Was she playing hard to get? Or hiding from him? No, not with James. She didn’t like games. She preferred honesty and open communication.
So, what was the issue? Why didn’t she just move to the front row where he could see her?
Because he still made her nervous. And she wasn’t ready to share their relationship with the world.
And yes, there was also that niggling fear that he might say something that she actively disagreed with. Over dinner several weeks ago, they’d discussed some of the issues facing the country, but she still wasn’t sure about his specific plans for office or his priorities.
Before Molly could continue that thought, an excited buzz alerted the crowd that the event was about to begin. Everyone found a seat and Molly was excited to realize that
the auditorium was filled to capacity, with a few people standing along the walls because there weren’t enough seats.
A man that Molly recognized, but couldn’t name, stepped onto the stage and walked to the podium as the crowd went silent.
“Thank you all for coming,” the man began with a welcoming grin. “I’m Bryan and I’m the campaign manager for James Morgan. I know that you have deep pockets, although you know nothing about the man you’re about to hear. But I guarantee, in less than forty-five minutes, you’ll be on board with his campaign.” The crowd shifted, obviously uncomfortable. Molly’s heart quivered with fear. The crowd didn’t seem to be on board with Bryan’s message and she feared he was setting James up for failure. There was a reason that comedians and bands started out with a lesser-known act. The warm-up was essential to get the crowd on board, so that the main event was more effective.
Bryan definitely was not a good “warm-up band”.
“I know that you are skeptical, but please, keep an open mind and hear him out. I guarantee that, by the end of your time here, you’ll be on board with his vision.” There was another awkward silence and Bryan turned to glance at the sidelines. He grinned and nodded. “So without further ado, I present the future senator for Virginia, James Morgan!”
The crowd clapped politely, but as soon as James stepped into view, a burst of energy pulsed through the room. The crowd seemed to sit up a bit straighter. Perhaps it was James’ obvious physical health. He looked incredibly handsome in a charcoal suit that showed off the breadth of his shoulders and tapered waist. Or maybe it was the way James looked out at the crowds, as if he expected, and was given, the accolades that he deserved.
Whatever it was, the crowd was definitely paying attention as James stepped up to the podium and turned to smile at the crowd.
“Thank you all for coming out on a Saturday afternoon. I know a political speech isn’t what most of us want to do with our weekends, especially on such a prime golfing day.”
Breathless Secrets (Rose Garden Apartments Book 3) Page 11