Page 14 of Presidential Bargain
Curiosity tempted this cat, so I quickly booted it up and connected to the secure wireless Internet that had been set up for Jameson’s campaign. I opened a web browser and clicked on one of my favorite gossip sites. My own vanity wanted to see what was being said about my dress and, most importantly, the ring. Everything written was positive. They all gushed over my ring and there were a zillion and a half pictures of Jameson kissing my hand, most of them doctored with hearts and flowers. He was officially a heartthrob, if he hadn’t alreadybeenone.
Then I navigated to a news site I knew would be critical. I had to see the good and the bad together. Jameson’s critics continually took jabs at his bachelor status and his poll numbers reflected skeptical voters. They didn’t trust someone who wasn’t married. And now he suddenly had a fiancée? I could probably guess what they were all saying because itwasfishy. Something was rotten in the state of Denmark and itwasme.
I’d be lying if I said I was surprised by how various news outlets were portraying me—as a gold digger. They questioned how someone so powerful and wealthy could meet, fall in love with, and then marry, a poor high school English teacher. They discussed at length my “riches to rags” story. Every news outlet, conservative and liberal and “unbiased”, all questioned my sudden appearance. And I didn’t blame a single one. Democrats had every right to be worried because if our arrangement was revealed, then their candidate was done. Jameson was their best chance at getting back into the White House and I couldruinit.
I closed my laptop and placed it on the small desk in the bedroom. How was I supposed to sleep now? My mind raced with the headlines I had seen. When I agreed to pose as Jameson Martin’s fiancée, I selfishly thought only of myself. But now, it seemed like the fate of the country rested on my shoulders. That burden could only be eased with two things. Alcohol andchocolate.
I quietly opened my bedroom door and slipped out into the living area. I had no idea if Jameson was asleep or still awake, but I didn’t want to disturb him. His future was also at stake; everything could be taken away from him in an instant if word got out that our relationship was a sham. That called for raiding whatever I found in the small, but well-stocked, bar in the corner of the suite’sdiningarea.
A quick scan of the snacks yielded a seven-dollar bag of peanut M&Ms. I didn’t hesitate in ripping the bag open and devouring the sweet treats. I wasn’t paying for this. I highly doubted that spending an outrageous fortune on candy could be considered a campaignimpropriety.
After a glance at the alcohol, I found my preferred poison, bourbon, and poured myself a glass. It was much more than the normal amount I usually enjoyed. I took my first sip, letting the liquid burn down my throat and warm my insides. A second sip and my head started to feel slightly fuzzy. I reached for my glass to take a third sip, but it was gone.What the hell? Like an idiot, I patted my hands over the countertop, searching for my missing drink. Then I turned and came nose-to-chest withJameson.
“I didn’t know you likedbourbon.”
“What girl doesn’t likebourbon?”
“A lot of them.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. His normally icy blue eyes were a darker gray-blue that studied me carefully. “I thought you’d beasleep.”
“I thought you’d be asleep too. I didn’t want todisturbyou.”
“You didn’t. I hardlysleep.”
This was surprising, but informative. I wondered what kept him up atnight.
“Oh. Well, I read one too many Internet articles about myself before bedtime. I needed a little bourbon to chase away thedemons.”
He didn’t look too happy that I admitted to Googling myself. “You shouldn’t read shitlikethat.”
“I can’t live in a bubble,Jameson.”
“I’m not asking you to live in a bubble. I’m just asking you to trust me and my campaign to tell you what you needtoknow.”
“I can’t live like thateither.”
Jameson closed his eyes and set the glass tumbler down firmly. A few drops of bourbon splashed out from the force of theimpact.
“What didtheysay?”
“Well, all of the gossip and fashion blogs loved my dress and the ring. They went nuts over you kissingmyhand.”
“That’s all you should read. I’ll talk to my IT guys, see if they can block the other news sites from your browser.” He picked up the candy bag on the counter and shook it, a look of disappointment briefly crossing his face when he realized it was empty. I looked at him sheepishly when he turned his questioning gaze on me. He tossed the bag in the trash can and then his gaze darkened to a bit of a smolder. “You did look beautifultoday.”
“Thankyou.”
“What else didtheysay?”
“Variations of the same thing. There was a rehash of my life story. Am I a gold digger? Why would you pick a poor teacher when there are thousands of other, more suitable, women out there? Is this relationship even real?” My voice trailed off because the last part worried methemost.
“You look concerned. What did they really say?” His eyebrow shot up and his browwrinkled.
“Iamconcerned. Your supporters have every right to be worried about the suddenness of our relationship. If our arrangement leaks, you’re done. I’ll have cost you the election, and them their candidate. They all believe in yousomuch.”
“That’s quite the burden you’ve placed onyourself.”
“That’s why I needed the bourbon.” I took the glass that we had now shared and took mythirdsip.
“I’m also responsible for my failure, Georgie. If our arrangement leaks, it’s not just you who’ll have ruined the election. I’ll have ruined it too. This was my arrangement, my idea. You don’t bear this burden alone.” He placed his hands on my shoulders before running them down my arms. He took the glass from my hand and set it next to me onthebar.
