Page 18 of Power Games

Except, if Charles chose to go for it in time for the next election, in a few short years, he would run against Tristan.

Actually, Tristan wasn't the problem. He'd really be running against Theodore. Vanessa didn't doubt that their father would control and manage Tristan's career from up close.

That could get ugly. She bit her lip.

What now?

Before she knew what she was doing, she was dialing Rob's number.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"So, there's a guy I sort of like," she blurted out, unable to filter her words, feeling off-balance and entirely unlike her.

Rob was a legend, of course.

"No!?" he gasped. "That's fantastic. You, me, wine, tonight. You tell me everything. Then we can stage an epic breakup. I can even be the bad guy."

"I said I liked a guy, I didn't say he liked me back, Robbie." Her fake boyfriend snorted.

"Yeah, right. Is he hetero?"

She shrugged. "I'm not everyone's type."

"Lies. We're breaking up."

It was past time anyway. She sighed in defeat. "All right, but no one has to be the bad guy."

She could practically see him roll his eyes. "What's the fun in that? Might as well make them talk about us. Where are you, back in LA or still on the other coast?"

"Got home last night."

"Perfect. My place. I have a better TV. I have to go. Makeup is calling."

"Catch you tonight. Six?"

"Make it eight, I'll be working late."

A few hours later, halfway into a bottle of red, she'd spilled the beans. Vanessa confessed to her crazy, out of this world volatile attraction to Charles, that had started from the very moment she'd heard his voice. She shared the fact that she liked everything about him, down to his scent. Charles smelled of clean soap, no aftershave. Her stupid crush hadn’t died in the last for years. She'd avidly devoured every article about him, swooning at everything he did.

She didn't have to elaborate too much because Rob knew of Charles Grant. Not in detail, but everyone in the country had heard of him at one point or another.

"I mean, he's unfairly perfect."

"No one is perfect, sweet cheeks."

"He is," she stated, shrugging. "I mean, he bangs random girls in other people's rooms, but his wife is a pretty notorious hoe, so..."

"Wait a second. Did you just say wife?"

So she had to explain about Izzy. She'd heard her brother and father talk about her—about banging her, to be exact. She had done the rounds, so to speak.

"Anyway, he called me and said that he wanted to divorce her. But he's thinking about a political career, and he wanted to know if it would be a problem."

Rob groaned. "Tell me you didn't advise him to stay with her. Tell me you lied and said he'd be just fine."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. So he can hate me when he figures it out. Great plan."

"Don't get too excited. There's a chance he'll pick his career, and stay with her. Until there's a piece of paper that says otherwise, he's taken."

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