by Lee Taylor
To this moment, Gia marveled that in the space of a month, her life had literally turned upside down. Little more than a week ago, she’d been the one who reported Aiden’s sickening perversion to the police and the young girl’s parents while simultaneously ending the campaign. She’d prepared to lick her wounds in some destitute hovel. Given that Aiden Maxwell’s crime occurred on her watch, she knew she could never rebuild her career as a hotshot campaign guru. Instead, now scant days after she’d torpedoed the Maxwell campaign, she had done something she’d promised herself she never would. She agreed to run for Congress, for the seat that Aiden had tarnished, no less.
Blowing out a hard sigh as she sank onto the chair beside him, she acknowledged that the only reason she had done the unthinkable was the imposing man reaching for her hand, Logan Fowler.
“You have to be exhausted, Gia, as well as exhilarated.” Sympathetically, Logan added, “After we do a quick recap with the team, you and I and Ben can plan the immediate next steps. Then, I promise you, your bed is waiting for you.”
Gia noted that he didn’t say “our” bed is waiting. As if she needed any more complications, one more glaring issue in her crazy life was that she’d been sleeping with Logan in his big bed since the night the Maxwell campaign crashed. Did the fact that she was now running for Congress, in the race that Logan had engineered, mean that their incipient love affair was over? She realized that her uncertainty must have shown on her face, because he reached under the table for her hand and squeezed it. Holding it tightly, he murmured for her ears only, “Hang in there, princess. You can handle this.” Gia pressed her lips together, determined not to show her upset. She only wished she knew what this was. Maybe then she’d know if she could handle it.
Logan turned to Paul Davis and his good friend Elliott Lockhart with a grin. “Okay, you two skeptical financiers. Fess up. Tell me when you’ve ever backed a campaign that hit the ground running like this one has.” Glancing at Gia, his grin widened. “I told you she was dynamite, didn’t I?”
Elliott raised his hands in agreement. “Yeah, man, you did. But c’mon, Logan, even you have to be surprised at the media attention.”
Logan shrugged. “Regrettably, I’m not surprised. I saw what the media whores did to Gia when Maxwell crashed. They would have gobbled her up if I hadn’t sequestered her.”
Ben chimed in. “Logan’s right. God, for two days, Emma, Kaila, and I could barely get into the offices. It took at least ten minutes each day to get through the crowd. All of the media insisted that we must know where Gia was. According to her neighbors, the locusts surrounded her house as well. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Max Sheldon eyed Ben, then quirked a brow. “Well, young man, you might not have seen anything like it, but I can assure you that Jerry, Gia, and I have.” Glancing at his wizened friend, Max snorted. “Do you want to tell ’em, or should I? Or maybe Gia would like to.”
When Gia shook her head and pointedly looked down at the table, Jerry Riley spoke up. “Max is right. You fellows should have been around when Gia’s pappy was running the show. Damn, Big Bart could scare up a horde of press jackals just by sayin’ the sun might rise later tomorrow than it did today. I ain’t never seen a body that didn’t have to do nothin’ but show up to get those news whores, as you call ’em, to chase after him. Heck, even when he went down, they were knee-deep around him until the prison doors slammed behind him.” He shook his head, then turned to Gia. “Tell ’em, sugar, tell ’em what it was like to live in the glow of that pappy of yours.”
When Gia just pressed her lips together and continued to stare at the table, Logan stepped in. “I’m confident you are correct, Jerry, and you too, Max. While I never saw Gia’s father in action, I understand he was quite an attraction. Since you brought him up, Max, and you too, Jerry, at some point in the next couple of days, I want to have a ‘Big Bart’ conversation. But if you don’t mind, that’s something I want to talk through with Gia first.”
As if seeing Gia’s discomfort, Elliott Lockhart seconded Logan. “If you don’t mind, Logan, and you too, Gia, I think it would be good for Paul and me to be in that conversation. While Max and Jerry were cronies of Big Bart, Paul and I knew him from a distance and might have a different take on his role in the campaign.”
Shaking her hand loose from Logan’s grip, Gia sat up in her chair and encompassed the circle of men in her glare. Her voice was cool, crisp. “Just so all of you are crystal clear, my father will not be involved in this campaign in any way. If any of you disagree, now is the time to find another candidate to support.” She rose to her feet and said over her shoulder, “Excuse me. I need to find Granger and thank him for hosting this extravaganza.”
Logan blew out a hard sigh as he watched her march across the rowdy bar. “Evidently, fellows, we touched a live wire. One that Gia feels strongly about. I have done my research on Gia’s father and concluded grandstander that he is, it will be impossible to keep that disreputable man out of the campaign. If for no other reason than that Gus Underwood will make Big Bart one of his primary issues.”
Ben nodded in agreement. “God, even grouchy Gretchen brought him up in the debate today.”
“Yes, she did, and Gia handled it perfectly. By simply ignoring it.” Logan rubbed at his carefully trimmed beard shadow and added, “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible when we get in the general campaign. The Underwood campaign will be at the starting gate with every ignoble thing Gia’s reprobate father did.” He groaned. “I can just see the panoply of incriminating B-roll now.”
“You’re not whistling Dixie on that one, Logan. And given what a handsome father, daughter duo they are, you can be sure that documentation will be front-page news and lead every cable show.” Paul shrugged. “Hell, to be honest, if I were advising the Underwood campaign, I’d make Big Bart and Aiden Maxwell the centerpieces of my negative campaign.”
Before Logan could respond, Jerry Riley broke in. “You’re both right. Forget that pansy prick Maxwell for the moment. Focus on her pappy. Big Bart defines the word ‘showboat.’ He sucks up attention like a hundred forty-pound anteater clears an acre of ants before they know what hit ’em—without so much as belching. And trust me, even if it detracts from his baby girl, when it comes to seeking the limelight, Big Bart is about as shy as a naked porn star sellin’ her wares on Main Street at twelve o’clock noon.”
Elliott agreed with the trace of a smile. “While my conclusion isn’t as colorfully stated as yours, Jerry, in the media, public relations world I’m involved in, Big Bart is known as ‘good copy.’ An understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”
Max Sheldon was more circumspect. “Not to break wind in polite company, but don’t forget who provided Gia with the dirt on Lyin’ Mike O’Brian. Who but Big Bart would know that Lyin’ Mike wrote twenty-five thousand dollars of bribe money on a county check to buy off officials covering up his arrests for prostitution? And who would know how to play that dirt better than Gia? The answer is no one.” He gave an aggrieved sigh. “Now I wish I hadn’t turned her onto that dirt. Without that info made public, O’Brian would have crushed that preppy pedophile Maxwell, and Gia would have been saved the torture she’s had to endure.”
Jerry seconded Max and Elliott’s conclusions. “You’re both right. But don’t forget, the reason Big Bart was able to rule this county for twenty years was that, in addition to sucking up attention, there wasn’t a fucking thing that a political opponent had done in his life, from sniffing his second-grade classmate’s panties to which priest had buggered more boys, that Bart didn’t know. I’m tellin’ you that encyclopedic ‘little black book’ Bartholomew Tremaine stores in his head could take down the Pope if he was running against Bart or any of his chosen cronies.”
Rising to his feet, Logan spoke to the group as a whole. “To state the obvious, it’s clear that Big Bart, like Aiden Maxwell, is more than a potential landmine for Gia. Which is where we, her ‘brain trust’ advisors, come in.
It will be up to us to map a strategy that will allow Gia to skirt those mines and come out on top. Fortunately, we are working with perhaps the savviest political operator I’ve seen. Ignoring the Maxwell debacle, which was a catastrophe, Gia’s political instincts are picture-perfect. At least as a manager. Our task is to ensure that we give her the tools and the support she needs to convert those instincts to a campaign where she is the candidate.”
Glancing across the room at Gia, who was standing in the center of an adoring claque of bikers rubbing shoulders with businessmen in three-piece suits, Logan allowed a small smile to quirk his lips. “Now if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I need to lasso our recalcitrant candidate and see if I can get her to climb down from her high horse long enough to convince her that she really does want to run for office. Something she insisted that she would never do.”
****
Sitting between Gia and Ben, Logan turned to Ben. “Treat this spreadsheet Syl created as a blueprint. As you can see, Syl ranked the various media outlets according to the criteria I gave him. He categorized them as national or local, which specific part of the district they represent, liberal or conservative, the significance of their market, and other important measures. This information is extremely valuable because we only have a week to blanket the state with Gia’s story, the one we want told. Furthermore, the campaign has to use their personnel resources wisely. For that reason, again using the criteria I gave him, Syl labeled each of the interviews that Gia needs to do, which ones you should take, and finally those that either Emma or Kaila can do. Let me put it this way. When each of you handles your assigned interviews as skillfully as I’m confident you will, we will enter the general election better prepared than Gus Underwood would be if he were running against Gretchen the Grouch, not the powerhouse that is Gia Tremaine.”
Ben looked at Gia, who was frowning, then obviously unable to tamp down his enthusiasm, turned to Logan. “Damn, Logan, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen statistics used like this to power and direct a campaign. Hell, we won every race we ran, except the last one, relying on Gia’s instinctive skills. But you’ve used technology to essentially bottle her instincts into a fucking blueprint.”
Logan laughed. “Now if I can just figure out how to get our candidate as excited about this approach as you are, Ben, we’ll be in business.”
Turning to a scowling Gia, Logan rose to his feet and bowed low from the waist. Pointing to the door, he grabbed her hand and said with a grin, “Shall we go, princess? Your chariot awaits.”
Chapter 3
Logan planted her in the passenger seat of his snazzy FF convertible that he’d sequestered in the alleyway behind the HT&M. He wasn’t taking any chances. He knew if the media horde spotted them, they’d follow him to his upscale condo, and it would be game over. In the media onslaught that would be a fact of Gia’s and his life soon enough, he wanted to protect her as much as he could, at least until they could work through some of the troublesome issues looming before them. Glancing at her, Logan squelched his grin. Her arms smashed tight across her chest and the fearsome frown creasing her brow made it clear that Gia wasn’t up for press interviews or, for that matter, much of anything—including him.
“Where are we going, Logan?”
“To my place. Why do you ask?”
She snorted. “Maybe because it would be nice to know what is happening in my life, even if I don’t have a damn thing to say about it.”
“Now, now, princess. No need to be testy. But never fear, after I get you fed and watered, you’ll soon feel like your sweet and charming self. At that point, we can revel in the extraordinary feat you pulled off today.”
When she sniffed and pointedly didn’t answer, Logan started humming Rod Stewart’s provocative tune, “Do Ya think I’m sexy?” and then softly sang the words, “If you want my body . . . and ya think I’m sexy . . . Come on, sugar, let me know . . . ” Seeing the incipient smile Gia couldn’t hide, then quickly shuttered, Logan was grateful that given the drama of the day, she was able to smile at his antics—if only momentarily.
As if determined to take him on, Gia said sharply, “I . . . I don’t know if I have the right clothes at your place.”
At his raised brow confirming that she was aware of the clothes he had bought for her that were hanging in his closet, she snapped, “But then, I don’t have a clue what I will be doing tomorrow, so what the hell does it matter if I have clothes or not.”
Logan stifled a laugh as he pulled into his garage, acknowledging he had his work cut out for him. Rounding the automobile, he had her door open and was lifting her out of the plush seat before she could push him away. Holding her securely next to him, he activated the retinal scanner, then pulled her into the elevator with him. Keeping her tucked next to him, he was relieved when she leaned against him ever so slightly. Taking advantage of the moment, he leaned down and brushed his lips across the sensitive skin beneath her ear. He was gratified when she couldn’t control her tremor and soft moan. Pulling her harder against him, he murmured, “Oh yeah, princess, then there is that . . . ”
When the doors opened directly into his condominium, Logan stepped into the hallway, then steered her into the lavish bathroom. Still holding her next to him, he murmured softly, “How about you hop in the shower, sweetheart, and see if you can scrub off at least thirty layers of that hostility you’ve encased yourself in? What do you think, baby? Think after twenty minutes under the scalding water, there’s a chance my formidable lover will emerge?”
Seeing her lips tremble and a rush of tears flood her expressive eyes, he hugged her and then gave her a little push. “Into the shower, princess, and that’s an order.” He ignored her gasp and closed the door on what he was sure would be a litany of recriminations. Shaking his head, he headed for his well-stocked bar. He didn’t know when he’d needed the comfort of fine whiskey more. Just thinking about the month they’d had, it was no wonder Gia was as shell-shocked as she looked. Talk about a Kingda Ka rollercoaster ride complete with a four hundred and fifty foot drop or two! Hell, that described today alone. Tossing back his drink, Logan went to work preparing for what he knew was going to be a challenging conversation. He snorted. So what was new about that?
****
When she finally felt somewhat under control, Gia forced herself to leave the comfort of the steaming enclosure. Reaching for one of the sumptuous bath towels, she dried off her heated body, then did her best to wring the water out of her curly hair. One of the good things about having naturally curly hair, even if it wasn’t the most sophisticated hairstyle, was that the midnight-black mass dried into a style that seemed to work. At least Logan seemed to think so, as many times as he had buried his hands and mouth in it, teasingly declaring that she’d sworn him off stick-straight blonde-haired women for life. Remembering the parade of wealthy, beautiful women that had been a fixture in the tech genius’s life mere weeks ago was all it took for her insecurities to flare. Asking herself for what seemed like the hundredth time today ‘what the hell am I doing?’ she blew out a hard sigh that came close to a sob.
Forcing herself to leave the comforting confines of the bathroom, she walked into the bedroom, then stopped in the doorway and stared at the bed. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see what looked like a lounging outfit on the bed. Shaking her head, she marveled at the silky garment. Without trying it on, she knew it would fit her perfectly—not only the size but the lush colors that were sure to come alive on her curvy body. Beside the gorgeous outfit was a lacy bra and thong. Like the silky lounging confection, she knew the enticing duo would accentuate her curvaceous frame. As she slipped them on, she reminded herself that Logan had bought them for her. That was challenging enough. She didn’t need to see any price tags; the sexy elegance spoke to their designers. What was more challenging was convincing herself that somehow this dream world that she’d entered this last month, as well as being the most devastating time in her life, was also the most wonderful
.
Across the teak-floored expanse, she saw him on the patio leaning against the iron railing. She wasn’t surprised that he was contemplating the remarkable scene from his fifty-five story perch. His open-roomed condominium was magnificent in every way. The living room, kitchen, and dining room wove unimpeded from one space to the next, separated by function and woven, handcrafted, one-of-a-kind area rugs. While all the rooms in the house opened to the extraordinary fifty-five-story view through floor to ceiling walls of glass, only the bedrooms and bathrooms were confined by walls. But what made the abode truly remarkable was the breathtaking view of the city and sky from the wraparound patio encasing the spectacular home.
Gia sucked in a much-needed breath of air, deciding that as glorious as the view was, it didn’t hold a candle to the tall, lean man leaning against the railing. His broad shoulders, muscular back, and sculpted butt were mouthwatering. Just the sight of him sent shockwaves of desire skittering across her thighs, taking up residence in her groin. Either he heard her slight moan of appreciation or, more likely, felt her presence as she felt his because he turned toward her. Swallowing hard, she marveled that his front view was as noteworthy as his impressive back. A Charlie Hunnam sweep of blond-streaked hair was as sophisticated as it was daring. His strong jaw, high cheekbones, and full lips contributed to his arresting looks. But now, it was his dark-brown, almost black eyes that lit with pleasure at the sight of her that caused Gia’s stomach to flip.
