Page 12 of The Politician Bidder

“I don’t want headlines. I don’t want polls. I wantpurpose.Real change. Something that matters.”

I motion to the building behind her—the place that fights for kids when no one else will.

“I want to be part of something real. Something that saves lives before they’re broken. Something like this.”

I hold up the clipboard in my hand.

“If you’ll have me... I’d like to build a Policy and Change division here. Help create legislation that keeps kids out of the system instead of just reacting when it’s too late. I want to fight the fights that matter. By your side.”

Her mouth parts slightly, her brows pulling together like she’s not sure she heard me right.

I step down off the ledge, getting closer, close enough that I could reach out and tuck that stubborn curl behind her ear. I lower the megaphone. No one else needs to hear this.

“And most of all, I wantyou,Poppy. I love you. I always have. Even when I was too young and stupid to tell you. Even in the years we drifted apart.Always.”

A smile tugs at her mouth—unwilling, unsure—but it’s there.

“I love your fire,” I continue. “Your stubbornness. Your pencil buns. Your determination and drive. I love everything about you.”

I hand her the clipboard, and her eyes widen as she takes in the document attached.

It’s not a speech.

It’s a business proposal. With detailed frameworks, budget outlines, and draft legislation.

Her eyes scan the first page, skimming the formal language, the budget line items... but her hands are trembling.

She looks up at me, eyes fierce and shining.

“You want toworkfor me?” she says, voice low and a little breathless.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. I step closer, lowering my voice so no one else can overhear. “And also make love to you every day for the rest of our lives.”

A laugh bubbles out of her then. Pure and bright and impossibly beautiful.

“And who exactly signs off on this brilliant new plan?” she teases, voice rough with emotion.

I grin. “You’re the boss.”

For one long, suspended second, I worry that she’ll reject me. Then she grabs me by the lapels of my suit jacket and yanks me into a kiss.

It’s fierce, it’s hungry, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

The crowd explodes in cheers and applause, but I barely hear it.

All I feel is her. All I care about is her.

For the first time in my life, I’m not thinking about optics.

Not thinking about approval ratings or headlines.

Not thinking about the future beyond the next heartbeat.

Just her.

Justus.

Finally.

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