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“What’s your favorite touristy thing to do in D.C.?” The question surprised him, but he thought about his answer.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve only done one touristy thing, and that’s catching the sunrise at the Iwo Jima Memorial.” Her expression told him she was horrified.

“I love that memorial, but sunrise is way too early.”

“It’s breathtaking. I’ll take you sometime.”

She crinkled her nose in disgust.

“You’ve never done any of the museums?” He shook his head. “The Washington Monument?” Another head shake.

“Bradley! I’m not sure if we can be friends.”

He held up his hands. “I can’t help it. As soon as I moved to town, I hit the ground running, and I’ve been working ever since.”

“I suppose I can forgive that, but if we’re going to be friends, you have a lot of catching up to do.”

He nodded. “You will make an excellent tour guide.”

They were laughing again, and he relaxed. When she asked why he didn’t support his father, he steered her away from that topic. He wasn't ready to get into something that heavy with her. Her carefree laughter was too enjoyable to sour the mood. This girl was beautiful and intelligent, and he hated that she saw him as a rival. They made great lovers.

Would she be open to a no-strings arrangement as his submissive? He mentally slapped himself. This line of thinking was the opposite of taking a step back from the kink world. Which was something he’d been thinking of doing now that his boss was about to be under national scrutiny in his bid for the White House. Not to mention, he knew damn good and well it was hard to have no strings when power exchange was involved.

Shaking the thoughts off, he offered his breakfast companion a smile as he picked up his phone to check for alerts. The curse of being chief of staff—it was impossible to be free of technology. The number of notifications was alarming. There were texts from four of his top-level staffers and his Twitter feed was blowing up.

Shit. What had happened?

“Pardon me for a moment. It looks like something might be on fire at my office.”

Darci smiled and waved her hand.

“By all means, I completely understand. My phone is buzzing like crazy.” As she spoke, she pulled the device from her bag.

Bradley groaned as he read the excerpt from an article his press secretary had sent him.

In an impromptu interview this morning, Senator Atleigh had this to say about the tragic event: “While the death of Mrs. Dixon is tragic, the truth is she was known for her affiliation with a group that condones violence toward women. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”

The temperature in the room shifted as he glanced at Darci who was likely reading the same headline on her phone. Her face had grown cold, and she glared at the screen and then at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Bradley? A group that condones violence toward women?”

Yep, definitely not happy. She wasn’t finished either.

“How the hell can you work for this ass hat?” He closed his eyes. Her anger wasn’t entirely unwarranted, but there wasn’t a need for name calling.

“I understand your anger but let’s not make a scene in the restaurant. The press got to him without his handlers being present.”

“Does this country want a president that needs babysitters?” Her tone was bitter, but she had a point. Sort of.

“All candidates have handlers,” he pointed out, trying to calm her down.

“Well, you guys need to do a better job,” she hissed.

“And we were having such a nice breakfast.”

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stood. “I’m sorry Mr. Givens, I have to leave. Thank you for breakfast. Call my boss if you decide to accept the panel invitation. Not that I think he should show his face in public ever again.”

Turning, she stalked away. Bradley jumped up to follow her.

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