Page 5 of The Senator: Raphael

“Are you arrogant and stupid enough to you think you can run for president without a wife? You will sink and I’m not going to feed your ambition without the certainty that you can pull this off. You want to run without a party and a wife? You won’t see another penny from me. Get your shit together and grow up. It’s time for you to put this before everything else in your life,” he hisses with a coldness that freezes my bones.

I clench my fists and let my anger bubble to the surface, fighting back. “I’ve been doing this since I was twenty-one years old. Ihaveput this before everything else! Don’t bullshit me! You know I don’t have a private life. I dedicate every second of my day to this job. How can I put a woman through that?”

“Nobody gives a shit what your wife thinks. That’s her problem. When she marries you, she knows what she’s signing up for, and trust me, she will benefit from that life. She will not be a poor little girl neglected by her husband. She will be powerful and rich. That’s all it takes to convince them. I put together that list because I know those women would do anything to get to you. All you have to do is choose. Marry one of them or you won’t see a penny from me.” He ends the discussion.

Considering he’s the major investor in my campaign, I realize I don’t have much of a choice. I hate him. I hate how he can control my life just by threatening to shut his wallet. And I can’t do anything about it. Ineedhis money. I tried to do it without him, but in the end, I had to go back to my old man.

I stand up and storm out of his office, slamming the door behind me. I cross the huge living room to the patio doors before taking a deep breath in front of the swimming pool.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Marianne’s worried voice comes from a deck chair next to me. I didn’t notice her stretched out there, enjoying the sun in a navy-blue bikini. She is my father’s second wife and the sweetest woman I know.

“About what? Your husband being an asshole?”

There’s always been good rapport between the two of us. Maybe because I was an adult when my parents got divorced, but I never had hard feelings for her. She takes care of my father and I appreciate that.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She laughs, teasing me, then pats the deck chair next to her for me to sit.

I take the spot and rub a hand over my face. “He wants me to marry. Sent me a list like I’m selecting groceries.”

She nods. “I heard about that. He told me.”

I glance at her expectantly. “And?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything more.

“And while it’s an unusual way to get married, all those women are willing and consenting. You’re a good man, Raphael. They’ll be fine with you.”

I don’t know the details of her marriage with my father, but she’s the daughter of my father’s biggest competitor. A few months after he married her, the companies merged into a huge conglomerate nobody can take down. I’d always suspected love wasn’t involved when they got married.

“God, this is so wrong,” I whisper, rubbing my forehead. “How can I marry someone I have zero interest in? How can I endure a life with a woman I feel nothing for?” I look her straight in the eye.

Her gaze softens and a sweet smile crosses her lips. “She’ll never come back, Raphael. You will never find a woman you love in the same way, but you can learn to live with the one you choose. You can’t think of living a life alone; your heart can’t heal that way. You’ll become a grumpy, sad man who hates everyone, and you don’t deserve to end up like that. You have a good heart, too good for the tank of sharks you’re jumping into, but you can change the world with it. If marrying is a way to do good for millions of people, do it with a smile on your face.”

The lump in my throat is almost painful. She always has the right words to inspire me to be better. Unlike my mother, who turned her back on me when I needed her most.

“So I have to plan a wedding, huh?” A small smile arches my lips.

She grins, her brown eyes lighting up. “If you need a hand with that, count me in. I loved planning mine!” She beams and I can’t keep from chuckling.

“I’ll call you when I pick someone from the list. God, that sounds gross. Like a mail-order bride or something.” I rub my face again.

She chuckles. “It’s not like that. Your father organized everything into a folder, yes, but the reality is those women are not forced into this. They’re not desperate to flee from their country to a man they don’t know. They’re women who know exactly what they want and that happens to be you.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel so much better now,” I tease. I look at my watch and realize I’m almost late for my meeting this afternoon. “I have to go, but thanks for the chat.” I pat her hand, kiss her cheek and stand up. She waves and sips her cucumber and lemon water.

I get into the car and grab my phone while my driver takes off from the gated Malibu community where my father lives.

“Hey, Matthew. Are you free tonight? I have to choose a wife,” I reluctantly say to my best friend.

I don’t like it. Scratch that, Ihateit. But Marianne is right. If marrying someone gives me the chance to change the world, I have to give this thing a try. I’ll deal later with the sense of unease and betrayal that grips my stomach.

“What do you think about this one?” Lola waves a sheer, black lace bra in front of my eyes that looks two sizes smaller than what I need.

“Does it even cover my nipples?” I raise my eyebrow, annoyed.

“Barely, but you’ll get higher tips.” She winks at me.

Buying lingerie with Lola is always an experience. While I don’t enjoy it particularly, since I have to wear it for work, buying it with my roommate is always fun. We both work in an exclusive nightclub where we get insanely high tips to serve drinks while squeezed into sequined shorts and a bra. We’re just bartenders, not dancers in golden cages like some sort of exotic birds, but we do have requirements for what to wear: lingerie. Hence, our monthly raid at the store of one of the most expensive brands available. She makes our monthly visit to Rodeo Drive less painful, especially when we grab food and enjoy our day off.

I met Lola when I first moved to Los Angeles seven years ago and was looking for an apartment. We instantly connected, and when I told her it was difficult to find a job that paid enough, she introduced me to the club. I wasn’t thrilled to serve drinks in lingerie, but the tips were insanely high. Not my ideal career, but it pays well and thanks to the tips, I’m saving a ton of money. The nightclub has no sign outside, only the most influential people know about it, and you can access it only if you’re with the right crowd. Discretion is the key for working in that place, and it’s perfect for someone like me who doesn’t want to be in the spotlight.

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