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Authors: Marilyn Campbell

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BOOK: Twisted Hunger
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Of course, Brevowski might enjoy hearing about how the senator danced around his office in his bare feet to get rid of stress after talking to the Queen Mother. But if that woman were
her
mother, she’d probably resort to dancing naked under the full moon.

It was nearly seven o’clock before Ellery could think about leaving, and even then she was delayed by the unexpected appearance of the senator’s brother. When she first met Theodore Roosevelt Jones, Ellery was astounded by how much the brothers looked alike. The differences were noticeable to people who knew them but, to a passing stranger, they could easily have exchanged places.

Theodore was only a year older, so there was no clear age difference between them. His height and weight were about the same as his brother’s, though his tendency to slouch made him appear shorter and heavier. Theodore’s hair and eye coloring were just a shade darker—not enough to tell them apart if they weren’t standing next to each other. But the true difference was in the confidence and charisma each naturally exuded. Where Abraham was outgoing and clearly loved interacting with people, Theodore seemed painfully shy.

“Good evening, Mr. Jones. I’m afraid you just missed him.”

“Th-th-th-that’s all right,” he stuttered. “I just w-w-w—” He handed Ellery a folder filled with newspaper clippings. “Th-th-th-these aren’t urgent.”

Ellery smiled despite the fact that she found it very hard to be patient while he struggled to get out each sentence. The few previous times they’d spoken more than a greeting, she had to bite her lip to keep from saying the words for him.

“And I w-w-w— Please c-call mmme T-T-T-Teddy.”

She smiled again. “Of course, Teddy. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He toyed with his gold pinky ring then looked around the room. Finally, he took a deep breath and murmured, “I’m g-going to a n-new Japanese restaurant tonight and th-thought, if you didn’t already have plans, mmmaybe you’d like to join mmme.”

Ellery forced herself not to reveal the discomfort his invitation made her feel. “That would be very nice, but I’m on my way to meet the catering manager at the hotel to go over the details for tomorrow night’s banquet. Perhaps another time.”

His expression reflected his disappointment… and the fact that he had expected a turn-down. It made her feel so guilty, she said, “Check with me on Monday, and I’ll let you know which evening looks open.”

For the first time since she’d met him he smiled, then quickly ducked out the door to the private stairwell that led down to the parking garage and provided a shortcut to his office.

Theodore Jones’ official title was Chief Information Specialist, which sounded more impressive than it was. He was actually supervisor of the group who scanned newspapers, the internet and listened to the news, looking for anything the senator should be made aware of.

Considering Teddy’s speech impediment and lack of social skills, the job allowed him to be part of his brother’s support staff, while avoiding any need to interact with the public.

At ten o’clock every morning, Teddy arrived with a thick folder of clippings and printouts and, most days, the senator set aside at least ten minutes to meet with him. The afternoon folder was usually delivered by one of the junior specialists, but occasionally Teddy brought that one up also. And when he did, the senator again gave him a few minutes of his time if at all possible. Ellery considered this another reason to admire the senator.

But the senator’s affection for his brother was part of what bothered her about Teddy’s dinner invitation. If any other staff member had asked her out without having a business-related reason, she would not have hesitated to turn him down—dating a co-worker was on her list of unprofessional acts. Teddy presented a more complicated scenario than usual, but he was so obviously insecure that she hadn’t been able to flatly reject him.

As she thought about how she could gently put him off next week, it occurred to her that there might be an advantage in having a
friendly
dinner or two with him. Perhaps, once he relaxed around her, Teddy might be willing to impart a secret or two about his brother. She would have to ask Brevowski his opinion of that idea.

When the phone rang again as she was about to walk out the door, she almost let it go, but something made her pick it up. A sexy male voice responded to her greeting.

“So it is you! I could hardly believe you were back in California, but I was watching the news the other night and there you were, standing next to Senator Jones. How’s the most elegant redhead on the planet?”

Until he used that expression, she had no idea who he was, only that the low, velvety voice was very familiar. “Hello, Brandon. This is certainly a surprise. How have you been?”

“Oh, you know, too busy to think straight and enjoying every second of it.” He filled the next few minutes with what he did best—boasting about his success and popularity.

Ellery had met Brandon Ross a little over six years ago, at a political rally for Jones in San Francisco. Jones was gearing up for the senatorial election, she was working for the mayor of Oakland and Brandon was rapidly gaining recognition as a daytime television soap character.

They had very little in common, but the sexual chemistry between them had been strong enough to bypass common sense. Geography and their schedules didn’t allow for regular dating, but for nearly two years they got together on a sporadic, non-exclusive basis. During that time, his growing popularity earned him the lead in a weekly detective series. He and the show won Emmys for the first season and were still on the air.

As his fame rose his calls became less frequent, until there were no more, which was fine with her. She had become bored with his vanity, as well as men in general by that time. Once, about a year ago, he had been on location in San Francisco and had called her mother looking for her. Audrey had given him her number in Washington, but she never heard from him. She had forgotten about that call until now.

“So how about it? I could fly up in the morning and spend the whole weekend.”

She had obviously missed something more than his bragging. “The whole weekend? Brandon, I’m afraid you’ve really caught me off-guard here.”

“That’s only fair. The way I felt after seeing you on TV surprised me too. But all I kept thinking about was how much fun we always had together. I really miss seeing you, Elle.”

He sounded sincere, but then again, acting was his profession. It had been such a long time since she’d been out on a purely social date, she wished she could accept—maybe not for the entire weekend but at least for an evening. “I’d like to see you again too, Brandon. Unfortunately, this weekend is impossible. Unless…”

“Yes?”

She told him about the banquet Saturday night. “It’s a thousand dollars a plate, but you can afford it and it’s tax deductible. I’ll be busy, of course, but we may be able to find some time to get reacquainted later in the evening.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll make a contribution five times that amount if you’ll agree to let me be your escort and be seated next to you for the evening.”

The excessiveness of his offer, when she knew unlimited generosity had never been one of his virtues, threw up a red flag for her. Undoubtedly he had some ulterior motive for wanting to see her so badly all of a sudden. The hard reality was, however, the good press created by having a handsome celebrity for a dinner partner would make rearranging some seat assignments worthwhile.

“All right. The pre-banquet reception for special contributors begins at seven. Since your donation will qualify you for that status, I’ll see you there…
with
your checkbook.”

As she hung up, she couldn’t help but wonder what Brandon Ross might possibly want from her after all this time.

* * *

Brandon grinned at the reflection of himself in the ceiling mirror above his bed. She was still hot for him. He could tell by her voice.

He punched the button on his cell phone that would put him through to his agent.

“Talk to me.”

“Nate, it’s Brandon. Just wanted to let you know that tomorrow night, I’ll be sitting at the table of Senator Jones at that AIDS fundraiser in Sacramento.”

“Sounds perfect. How’d you swing that?”

“His new aide is a dear old friend of mine.”

“Please tell me she’s not one of the ones you knocked up.”

Brandon frowned. There was a time when Nate wouldn’t have used that tone with him. “It was a good, free-style relationship. No hard feelings. I thought this was what you wanted me to do.”

“It is. It is. I’ll watch for you on the eleven o’clock news tomorrow night. Gotta go now, but call me when you get back in town.”

Brandon had hoped for a little more enthusiasm from Nate, but he always had been the type who had to see success in terms of ratings or awards before he got excited.

At thirty-one, Ellery was now considerably older than his usual companions, and when they went out and she wore heels, she was nearly his height, which he thought took away from one of his best attributes. But she was a beauty and elegant enough to make most hetero males hard just watching her walk across a room. She was just too smart and sharp around the edges.

Lucky for him, he had never had a problem playing the romantic stud to women he wasn’t the least bit attracted to, as long as there was something in it for him.

Hell, for what was at stake, he might even marry her… for a while.

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Ellery didn’t know how her mother had done it for all those years. Having dinner with Mr. Barry while a virtual army of employees came to him with problems that couldn’t wait was hardly conducive to digestion. This was the first function of such magnitude that she had personally overseen, and she hoped it was her last. Arranging a dinner meeting for a group of over-committed congressmen had been a breeze compared to organizing all the minute details that went into a black tie affair.

She felt drained by the time she settled into a chair in the courtyard. When nine-thirty passed without Brevowski showing up, she wondered if she had misinterpreted the code. Before she could pull out her address book to check, a bellman approached her.

“Excuse me, miss. You have a phone call.”

“I do?” she asked doubtfully.

“A gentleman called the Concierge Desk and said that a tall, beautiful redhead, wearing a black and white suit, was waiting for him by the fountain. Apparently he’s been delayed and wants to explain. You can take it on a house phone in the lobby.”

“Thank you.” She followed him inside to the phone, gave him a tip for his trouble then waited for him to transfer the call to her. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to meet with you in person this evening. I hope—”

“How did you know what I was wearing?” she questioned sharply.

“I was on my way in, but saw someone I’d rather avoid,” Brevowski explained. “Under the circumstances, please refrain from using any names. How was your week?”

His warning automatically made her look around to make sure no one was watching her before she began speaking.

“No! Don’t look around. Unless you can do it casually.”

“You’re nearby, aren’t you?”

“Close enough. I assure you, the subterfuge is a necessary precaution. We have reason to believe that someone is… curious about our agenda. We’d rather not have them discover exactly how you fit in.”

Ellery could not help but glance around the lobby in search of Brevowski, or any other suspicious-looking characters, although she did it much more surreptitiously this time. “You’ve succeeded in making me very uncomfortable. I was not under the impression that others were involved.”

“There’s no reason to concern yourself with the
others
at the moment. However, I would strongly recommend you avoid any, shall we say, new relationships for a while, even with an old friend.”

His recommendation let her know that he was aware of the call she’d received from Brandon. So the office lines
were
tapped. She still had no idea by whom, however. Although she had questioned Brandon’s real reason for contacting her, it seemed incredible that he’d be involved in anything political… unless it could somehow advance his career. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m sure you’re wrong.”

BOOK: Twisted Hunger
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ads

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