Page 3 of Twisted Contract

“You’re pathetic.” I walked past her and into a stall. I don’t have to use the restroom; I just want her to leave me be. Thankfully, she finally makes her exit and I flush the toilet and then step out to clean my hands, taking the calming breath I’ve been needing. I know what Nick is going to announce, or at leastI think I do, and I’m afraid because there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Finally, I work up the nerve to leave the bathroom and return to the party. “Ah, there you are.” Nick says, pulling me to his side for a quick peck before releasing me.

“I’d like to get everyone’s attention here, please. Thank you all for coming tonight. It’s such a pleasure to see everyone’s beautiful faces, and your expensive ones as well,” he teases with a wink. Everyone laughs at Nick’s joke, or rather his insults to the plastic ones. I put on a gracious face even though a sinking feeling hits the pit of my stomach. “I know you all are wondering why we’re here. We have time before we start hitting you up for money for reelection, which we will. But there’s something else going on tonight, and it’s very special as well.”

I fidget in my heels, and my father gives me a look that tells me to stop acting like a five-year-old, and I snap back into proper form. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been my father’s little daughter who behaved. The only time I’ve wavered was when it came to my career. I shared my grandmother’s passions and that wasn’t politics. Baking had been the heart and soul of my existence.

“Claudia, my dear. Will you do me the greatest honor and become my better half?” My eyes are wide open as Nick is down on one knee. I stare down at him with my mouth open, unable to speak as he holds my hand.

“Claudia,” he whispers, waiting for me to answer. My mouth closes, and I don’t know what to say because I want to tell him to fuck off, but I can’t make a scene in front of everyone.

“She said yes,” my father says, stepping in front of us. Nick slides the ring on my finger and then brings my hand to his lips, giving it a kiss. He stands and pulls me into his arms and then presses his lips to mine, and the crowd cheers. I’m the firstto pull back and keep the fake smile on my face because I must put on a show. Why would they do this to me?

“Congratulations, sweet girl,” my father says boomingly, kissing my cheek before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Keep up the cheerful grin. You made the right choice.” He straightens up and smiles at me and then to everyone else.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I say in my own sweetly perfect voice, pretending to be a happy bride-to-be so the crowd can gush over my father and his precious child.

Several of the ladies quickly rush up to me with gushing eyes and say, “Oh my goodness. We have to see it.” I put my hand out with the enthusiasm my father expects and show them the rock that Nick gave me.

“Let’s cheer to the future Mr. and Mrs. Mirren,” my father says. Losing attention on him, he redirected it where it belonged. Everyone raises their glasses to us with a round of cheers and congratulations. Although I must say that I wasn’t bothered by the distraction.

“Thank you, everyone,” Nick adds, sliding his arm around my waist again, pulling me close. God, my skin crawls. I want to peel his fingers off my body, but I fight the urge with every ounce of strength. He takes a drink from his flute of champagne before handing it to the waiter.

“You look delectable and smell so sweet—so good I could eat you up.” I can tell he was drinking a little before he made that speech and clearly had another glass. Not enough to be drunk, but definitely enough to work up the balls to get handsy with me. He’s never this forward. I hate when he tries to touch me. I’ve made it clear to him that I’m saving myself for marriage, or at least that’s what I tell him.

“So I’d like to talk to you about joining me as one of the staffers.” My head tilts like this man has lost his damn marbles.

“How many glasses in are you?”

“Come on now, Claudia. You know that bakery is a pipe dream, and I need you to be serious and at my disposal.” I puff out a quiet laugh and stare at him with more disillusion than I had before. Our relationship had been orchestrated by my father and I wanted nothing to do with it. Now, I’m here dealing with a man who wants me to give up my dream to be available to fuck.

“I know what kind of disposal you’d like me to be at, but Nick, my dream isn’t to spend all day on my back. If that was the case, I wouldn’t need to work at all.”

“Yes, but I’m not at home all the time. I’m at the office and I have needs.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Now is not the time for this discussion, and I will not be blamed for any outbursts.” With a polite smile I walk around him and find one of the ladies to speak with.

The party continues for another hour before more and more people leave and the soiree begins to dwindle. Nick’s phone rings at the same time as my father’s. “Excuse me, sweet girl. I need to take this call.”

He steps away from the group, and one of the ladies says, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get used to it, and you’ll have your own life while he’s working.” Her eyes brows raise, but with all the treatment on her face, there’s hardly any expression on her face. Still, the meaning was clear. I’ll be able to have my affairs too.

“Thanks.” I walk away and then pretend I’m going toward the waiter who has flutes of champagne. I take one and sneak over to where Nick is on the phone. Is he talking to his girlfriend that he thinks I’m not aware of, or is it someone else?He couldn’t have been more obvious about needing sex while working.

“We have the warrant,” my father walks up to him and says. Nick nods, ending his call and then dialing another number. “We need to organize the men because I want this to move smoothly before he has a chance to hide anything. Getting these fucks would make both our careers.”

I turn away and return to the party. It’s business, and it’s legitimate business to boot. They’re going to be busting some piece of shit that would make the news.

“Hello, Ms. Saunders. You’re a beautiful treasure. It’s such a shame that you’re marrying the Attorney General when you could be with a man like me,” actor Dennis Macklin says. He’s Hollywood’s leading heartthrob at the moment, and of course a little closer to me in age.

“I’m sure you have a bunch of sexy ladies beating down your door,” I say, giving him a saucy smile.

“I do, but you are a true thing of beauty. A man would start a war for you. You’re the Helena of Troy.” God, he’s laying it on thick. There is no man who would do it, and I know he wouldn’t. Between the booze and probably the line of coke he’s already snorted, Mr. Macklin is seeing a different version of me. I don’t have a fraction of the makeup on that the other women here do, and my gown, although expensive, is plain black.

“Sweet girl, there you are.” I turn and see Nick approaching me.

I give him a subtle smile that is completely fake, but he’s either blind to it, or he doesn’t care because he smiles back and kisses my cheek before he walks out. Then, a moment later, my father approaches. “Sweet girl, I have some business to attend to. Unfortunately, that means I’ll have to call you a car.” It’s sickthat they both call me that. I’m not sure when Nick started using it, but I find it completely revolting now. I don’t have a daddy fetish and even if I did, it wouldn’t be like that. It’s more like hot daddies

“Thank you, but I can fetch an Uber or cab home.”

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