Scandalous: The Senator's Secret Bride (4 page)

“Desiree,” he said.

“That’s not even my real name, you know.”

“You can tell me your real name. And we could get to know each other, have breakfast tomorrow before I need to leave.”
 

“What purpose would that serve?” I looked at him as I slipped into my bra and panties. Covered now, I felt more confident, more like myself.
 

“Happiness. Fun. Passion.”

“Until we get sick of each other. Or you get sick of me, working all the time. I work. It’s what I do. It’s all I do. I don’t date.”

“I don’t date either,” he said, pulling a towel around his waist. “Maybe we can not date together, some time when I’m back in town. Things should be calming down for me in a few months, and I’d love to really take you somewhere, talk to you.”

“John. I said I’m not this person. This was fun. It was a one-time thing. But I roll on my own, and that’s pretty much all I do.” He nodded, sitting back down on the bed.
 

“Well if I can’t convince you—”

“You can’t.” I wiggled into my skirt, my body still airy and sensitive from making love to John. I looked at him as he watched me, desire winding its tendrils through my body again. I looked down and shook my head, letting my hair fall over my eyes. “I’ve gotta go.” I pulled on my shirt and suit jacket, hasty with the buttons. The final one still sat there on the floor. I sighed and stepped into my shoes, picking my purse and retreating into the doorway where John had pushed me against the wall and kissed me hard.
 

Will I ever find someone like this again? Someone to make me feel like he did? I waved at John, my heart pounding hard. He rose and walked to me, embracing me and crushing his lips against mine again. I gulped and pulled away, gasping.
 

“Maybe I’ll run into you again, Desiree. Or whatever your real name is.” I stood on my toes and kissed him on the cheek, looking into his eyes once more. My stomach twisted with something like regret, and I turned opening the door and letting it fall shut behind me. I watched John through the closing door, his eyes still locked on mine. For a moment, I stood still, wondering if I should knock, if I should walk back in and take my chances with him.

No
.

I turned and walked back to the elevators, rushing through the doors just as they threatened to close. Keeping my head down, I walked toward the revolving doors, running as I reached them, catching my breath as I stepped out on the pavement outside.
 

This is the real world. That wasn’t.
I hailed a taxi, relief flooding me as one came to a halt before me. The door popped open, and I slid in, looking back at the hotel once more. I imagined John back in his room, sitting alone. My gut twisted again, but I slammed the car door and looked ahead.
 

“Columbia Heights, Park Triangle apartments.” The cabbie nodded and sped away, taking me back home to the blessed relief of solitude.
 

“Coming back from meeting a friend?” The cabbie looked back at me, and I saw his arched eyebrow in the rear view mirror.
 

“Something like that.” He nodded and drove on, twisting through the darkened streets of DC. As he pulled up outside of my bright little apartment complex, I tossed him a ten dollar bill and nearly fell out of the cab. My head was pounding from the alcohol, and my body felt strange and foreign. I sighed heavily, walking up to my studio apartment and stumbling inside, closing the world out behind me. Unable to walk any further, I fell onto my couch, kicking off my shoes.
 

“Tomorrow is a new day,” I said. “Tonight you took what you wanted. And tomorrow, you start fresh.” I closed my eyes, images of the man I’d never see again swirling through my mind as I drifted off to sleep. Too bad I’d never see him again. But that was how this kind of thing worked.

“You start fresh,” I said again, turning on my side and escaping into sleep.

September 8, 2016

Eight Weeks until Election Day

Beep beep beep.
 

I struggled against the fluffy white cushions of my sofa. My very first thought was that I hoped I hadn’t ruined it with the remnants of my makeup. Owning a white couch had
seemed
like a good idea —Olivia Pope had one and never seemed to spill any of her copious amounts of wine on it.
 

Well, I’m nothing like her,
I thought as I sat up.
My hair won’t press out like that, my curves are too curvy, and my clothes aren’t quite expensive enough.

And today I meet the Senator-to-be.
I gulped, and a shiver ran through my body.

“What have you gotten yourself into, girl? You left a steady job to go on the road and win an election for some man you don’t know. God.” I stood and looked at my phone, sighing. I had thirty minutes to get ready. “And hell, I better get Plan B at CVS. It probably wouldn’t be good for
any
job if I...” I let my voice trail off into the empty apartment, shaking the thought from my mind. My curls fell out, and I stomped over to the shower, turning it on and waiting for it to get hot. As I put my shower cap on, I thought back to John again.
Why hadn’t I wanted to take a chance? What was wrong with me that I wanted to deny an attraction like that? Like I’d never felt.
 

I stepped inside the shower and let the water get hot, let it wash away all of those thoughts. But that feeling—the feeling you get after you’ve been touched all night—it stuck with me even as I stepped out of the shower and wandered into my bedroom.

“Okay, focus, Sonia. You’re not this silly, starry-eyed woman. And you got better shit to do than worry over some man.” I thumbed through the suits in my closet, settling on a black linen jacket, a crisp blue button-down, and white linen pants. I’d blend with a lot of the other women in the office, but I’d look fine enough doing it. And Kelly wouldn’t have any problem with it. I pushed the last remnants of the handsome stranger from my thoughts, grabbing my turquoise Coach bag and throwing on a pair of Tom Ford sunglasses to cover up any signs of the night before. I dabbed on a tiny bit of coral lip gloss as I headed out the door, running in a quick jog to the sidewalk out front. I hopped into one of the cabs, checking my phone for the address Kelly had sent.
 

“300 King Street, Alexandria,” I mumbled as the cab sped on. I let myself relax finally, speeding away to my new life.

***

“Oh my God. Is this the right place?” I slid out of the cab and walked up to 300 King Street. To my surprise, it wasn’t a convention center, and it wasn’t a room rented out of a cheap-ass building. Most of the campaigns I’d worked or volunteered for couldn’t care less about a campaign space, but this was... this was something special. It was one of the colonial era homes in Alexandria, likely worth two to three million dollars... at
least
. I glanced down at my phone again as I walked up the ancient brick steps. “It can’t be.”
 

Tentatively, I knocked at the door, peeking into one of the windows. I caught sight of the normal red and blue decor that often decorates campaign offices, and even a stack of bright blue “Reynolds” bumper stickers. The door burst open, and Kelly popped out onto the sprawling front porch of the house, wearing a bright orange sheath dress that I recognized from her extensive Carolina Herrera collection.
 

“Isn’t this
darling
? Come in, come in my dear.” Kelly put her arm around me and guided me inside. “Reynolds got this place on short notice. It was to be sold as commercial space, but he went and bought the entire house.”

“The entire thing? But that’s—”

“A little bit crazy? Well, darling, he’s a billionaire. I’m sure Mitt Romney would have done exactly the same thing, but it wouldn’t be
nearly
as adorable as this. Mittens has terribly tacky taste.” She winked at me and took my hand in hers. “All right, in here we have our launch area for advertising and outreach—that’s you, darling. And this is my office,” she said, pointing to a large room to our right. “And in the back is where the old living room of the house was. Mr. Reynolds will be in this room.”
 

“Well, damn,” I said. At the far end of the room was a marble fireplace, with a huge flat-screen TV hanging above it. There was also a farmhouse-style desk, the intricate grains of the wood polished to a full shine. Behind the desk was a Herman Miller chair, of course. Probably hand built from the finest materials. I crossed my arms, wondering if this guy was someone I wanted to be working for. For some reason, the pervasive feeling of money and old white richness rubbed me the wrong way. “It’s really, uh, nice.”
 

“Don’t judge, darling. He’s up against a hell of a woman, and he got this together within a week.”

“I’m not judging, I just—”

“You just don’t want to work for The Man? That’s always how you’ve been.”
 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Kelly?”

“Politicians, they’re all The Man, and most of them are The Very White Man. But that doesn’t mean they’re all bad. For right now, we can support the ones who understand that there is more than one type of person in the world.” Kelly ushered me back to her office, closing the door behind her.
 

“Sure, and Reynolds is one of those guys?” I asked, sitting down on her plush red sofa. She handed me a bottled water from a small refrigerator against the far wall. I spotted several small bottles of wine inside as well. “He’s not just shiny and new? Not just a man with a big expensive desk and handmade suits?”

“No, he’s not just that my darling. You will see. Now drink that water. You need not have dark circles under your eyes when you meet him. Now, before you get to work, you need to tell me what happened with your handsome stranger last night.”

“My handsome stranger? I don’t know what you--“

“You know exactly what I mean. Remember, you *told me you were leaving with a man. Don’t pretend otherwise. And you’re positively *glowing this morning. I know you well enough to see that you’ve gotten
laid
. And well.”

“Don’t be crass, Kelly. You know I’m not like that.”

“We’re all like that at our core, my sweet friend. But I know you are a good girl. And that you wouldn’t have done it unless you
really
liked him.” She raised an eyebrow at me. I paused, looking down at my nails and clicking them against my water bottle. I opened it and took a drink, swallowing the cool liquid slowly. Was she right? Did I really like him? I certainly hadn’t done anything like that before, ever. I closed my eyes, imagining John’s broad hands wrapped around my waist. “You did like him, didn’t you darling? I saw you sitting with him, but I didn’t catch a glimpse of his face. From his posture, I’d say he’s someone important in town. Is he, darling? Is that why you won’t spill?”

“No—I mean I don’t know. I’m not even sure if he gave me his real name. I didn’t get his last name, anyway.” I looked up at her, catching the mischievous look in her eye.
 

“How tragic, Sonia. He could be a diplomat or a congressman. He could be anyone. Don’t you have the faintest idea? Or were you just driven wild by lust?”

“No!” A blush rose over my cheeks, and I could feel my skin turning red. Even with the dark tone of my skin, my blushing was very obvious. Kelly laughed.

“Oh my dear, I can tell by your response. You do like this man. And what a night of passion it must have been. My sweet friend, having a one-night stand. Come on, you can tell me if he’s someone important. If you’re embroiled in a scandalous DC affair...” Her voice trailed off with the slight lilt of a question.
 

“Really, I don’t know who he is. And I didn’t give my real name, either.” I gulped. That didn’t necessarily sound like I was the good girl I’d always thought I was. I blushed again and looked away, crossing my legs.
 

“Oh how terribly romantic! How on earth did you get yourself involved in such a thing?” Kelly laughed, adding to my irritation. She didn’t understand anything about it. Kelly was forever falling in and out of love, so often that it didn’t seem serious when she told me about her latest fling. “A love affair with an important man, someone you
really
like! And you don’t even know his name. Or he yours.”

“It’s not like that—”

“Except that it sounds exactly like that.” She leaned in closer. “You used protection didn’t you?”

“Oh God,” I moaned. I wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment. “Yes, yes, of course we did. I picked up Plan B, too. God, Kell. Stop asking me. Next you’ll be asking me the details of what we did.” I blushed harder, thinking about John pressing me against the wall, pressing his tongue between my thighs. A jolt ran through my core again, sending heat out to every limb.

“Well, what was it that you did? You can tell me. I do love details,” she whispered. I groaned.

“No, can’t we just get on with like, the job? I need to know what our strategy is, from my
campaign manager.
I don’t want to spill to the biggest party girl in town.” Kelly pouted.

“Is that what you really think of me, love?”

“No, no, Kelly. It’s just that this wasn’t
me
. It was like I was
possessed
. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to think about the... handsome stranger. I don’t want to know if he was someone important, and I’m not seeing him again.”

“Yes, yes, okay, Sonia. I won’t make you dish anything you don’t want to. You’re clearly uncomfortable. But darling, just know that it’s
okay
to enjoy your sexuality. And it’s okay to take a man home with you every once in a while? Speaking of which, did he come to your place?”

“Oh, no, um. I went to his hotel room. But Kelly, can we please stop talking about this?” I ran my fingers through my thick black curls, exasperated.
 

“Fine, fine, darling. We’ll talk about the campaign. We must. But if you feel the need to dish about your
secret affair
, do let me know.”