by Lee Taylor
“Uh, no, sweetheart, I’m no longer active duty. But given the nature of my business, a number of my colleagues came out of the same milieu that I did. I presume that is why the guy I asked to contact you indicated I was ‘offline.’ It’s a general term we use when we are dealing with issues that require secrecy. On that point, Gia, I’m sorry that I was out of commission and couldn’t reach out to you. Which brings me back to our ‘conversation’ last night.”
Gia felt the heat rise on her cheeks. “The conversations that we had against the wall and for most of the night in my bed?”
He allowed a smile to curve his lips, then reaching for her, tipped up her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Yes, those ‘physical’ conversations, as well as the verbal ones we had prior to the wall and the bed. You need to understand, Gia, how very upset I was with you last night.”
She tried to pull free, but when he continued to hold her, she looked down and murmured, “You made that clear, Logan.” She hesitated, knowing that she owed him an apology, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she skirted the issue. Gazing up at him uncertainly, she asked the question she hadn’t known was burning in her subconscious. “Um, are you going to be gone a lot . . . like you were?”
She was relieved when his stern gaze morphed into a soft smile. “Are you asking if I’m going to be gone for days at a time, unable to connect with you?”
When she nodded, he snorted. “Hell no, sweetheart. Do you think I’m crazy? Begging you to dismiss me in front of every important person I know, including some vicious and spiteful women? Who no doubt were thrilled when you mounted your high horse and cantered out of that auspicious party with your head held high? The party, incidentally, that was being held in your honor?” At her embarrassed attempt to pull away, Logan grasped her chin. “Listen up, sweetheart. I will do my damnedest not to be ‘offline,’ but if it’s unavoidable, I will try to give you a heads-up. Which brings me to the points that I was making last night—verbally. I am quite serious, Gia. Your behavior was unacceptable on so many levels, I don’t know where to begin. Just know that I will not tolerate your public tantrums. You can throw them when we are alone because, in truth, they amuse me. Particularly since I have access to your ass and can handle them as they should be handled. But public dismissals? Rude, obnoxious behavior in front of important audiences? Uh, no, princess. Quite simply, that is not an option.”
When she managed to free herself and turned away from him, refusing to answer, he put his arms around her and pulled her back up against his chest. Leaning down, he brushed his lips across the top of her head, then murmured, “However, I have decided that being away from you—even for a couple of days—isn’t an option for either one of us. Particularly given your insecurity . . . ” When she angrily tried to break his hold, he said, “Uh-uh, down, tiger . . . Note that I said it wasn’t an option ‘for either one of us.’ And yes, your debilitating insecurities make it impossible. There is also the fact that I don’t think I can go through another night knowing you are sequestered on a shabby balcony sleeping on a plastic recliner. Particularly when you should be in my big bed next to me.”
She closed her eyes, then leaned back into the comfort of his hold. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the words fled from her mouth unbidden. “I’m . . . not good about us, Logan . . . when you aren’t with me . . . ”
He hugged her tighter and murmured, “No shit, sweetheart. I think I noticed. As did every sentient being within a football field of either of us. Jesus God, Gia, everyone from Ben to Paul to Granger insisted I get my ass back here, swearing that you were falling apart.”
“I . . . I’m sorry, Logan.”
“No, you aren’t. If you had it to do over again, you would do exactly what you did. You would be as disgraceful and as insulting as you were. Which brings me to the question of what are we going to do with you?”
“Don’t you mean with us?”
Logan laughed. “Uh, yeah, that is a better, more apt question.” He glanced at her attire and shook his head. “The problem is answering a question that significant without attacking you is a challenge akin to scaling Mt. Kilimanjaro—without the aid of Sherpas. Damn, Gia. You could walk into the room wearing a burka and my dick would still rise up to greet you. But I gotta tell you, sweetheart, when you stumbled in here today dressed in a clingy nightgown and virtually transparent robe, with your hair sexily mussed and that lovely flush on your cheeks and your chest, it’s a wonder I didn’t lay you out on the table and have at you. Of course, given the barely disguised hunger in my raunchy buddies’ eyes, I might have caused a free-for-all.”
He smiled down at her, then glanced at his watch. “In that I’ve called a staff meeting to begin here in less than thirty minutes, I think it’s advisable that we forego further discussion with you dressed as you are.”
At her startled response, he explained, “Don’t worry. I invited just Ben and the girls. We need to discuss how we’re going to handle our relationship given that neither of us seems capable of adhering to our ‘no fraternization’ edict. So if you would please take your tempting body into the shower and do the best you can to scrub off any visible signs of the fierce night we spent together. But don’t get rid of the stars in your eyes. I’d hate to be the only one whose eyes are shining.”
After Gia scampered out of the room—but not before turning and winking at him as she lifted her nightgown to expose her bare ass—Logan leaned against the counter, taking stock of their conversation. In a long-ago lifetime, he’d been raised by strict Roman Catholic parents and somehow survived the harsh warnings from self-righteous nuns regarding the “sin” of lying. Given that those lies had amounted to little more than if he’d done his homework or looked up Mary Catherine’s skirt, he’d justified his grade school lies as minor. But the dictum from one of his high school Jesuit teachers had stayed with him. Father Clancy had declared, “Don't lie to people that trust you, and don't trust people that lie to you.”
He remembered that dictum when he’d joined the Delta Force. It had taken him the night of his first undercover operation to conclude that his grade-school nuns wouldn’t have made it through basic training in his chosen profession. Indeed, lying, and lying well, was essential to their missions. In fact, it was a matter of life and death. Not only for his survival but those of his team members. He admitted it was questionable if that excused his lies of omission to Gia regarding his current operation. Noting that they were nuanced at best, he conceded his actions definitely skirted the line between honorable and dishonorable. Blowing out a hard sigh, Logan concluded that what was usually considered honorable wasn’t always possible when the lives of his cohorts were at stake. Or in this case, the life and well-being of the woman he was deeply in love with.
Chapter 20
Kaila and Emma jumped to their feet when Gia entered the room. Their concern obvious, both young women ran to her side.
Emma spoke first. “Gia, are you okay? We were worried that something terrible had happened when you and Ben left the way that you did. Thank goodness Logan was still there. He managed to answer everyone’s questions, indicating that you had another bash you needed to attend.”
Kaila chimed in. “That seemed to work for most of the people, but we knew that you and Ben wouldn’t leave like that—without telling us you were going—unless something bad happened.”
Embarrassed, Gia glanced at Logan, who was standing to the side with Ben. Before either of them could answer for her, Gia decided not to prevaricate. She blew out a hard sigh. “I wish I had a better excuse. But the best I can do is say that I let something get to me that I shouldn’t have. I got upset, and according to Logan, I was rude and insulting. I admit that I behaved badly. I’m sorry you were upset and had to make excuses for me.”
Logan reached for Gia’s hand. Guiding her over to the table, he motioned for the others to join them. He sank onto the chair next to her, then captured the core team in his gaze. “Last night was a challeng
e. None of us can pretend otherwise. That is the reason I wanted to meet with you. We need to discuss what happened and how we’re going to prevent it from happening again.” Waiting until they were all seated, Logan was direct. “All of you know that Gia and I are involved. We agreed that we would keep our relationship private so that it didn’t become the focus of the campaign. Particularly when we just achieved a stunning primary victory and want to enter the general election on a high note. Last night proved that we don’t have the luxury of defining our relationship—or of keeping it out of the limelight. Unfortunately, Savannah Phillips, a particularly vicious woman, did it for us in a most disreputable way. And while I don’t appreciate how Gia chose to respond to Savannah’s attack, she got hit with a devastating blow. I also accept responsibility for the train careening off the track. I was called away for an emergency and was unable to connect with Gia for several days, which made it harder for me to deflect the ugliness that hit her.”
Turning to the two young women, he said, “Ordinarily, I would not repeat or respond to reprehensible gossip. But last night, among other things, Savannah Phillips said, loudly enough for everyone to hear, that Gia must have a sugar daddy who not only bought the election for her but also the beautiful clothes she was wearing.”
At Kaila and Emma’s shocked gasps, Logan continued. “As much as I would like to blow it off and rely on that timeless truth, ‘consider the source,’ the attack has enough truth to it to warrant our attention. I did give Gia the beautiful outfit she was wearing, and yes, I am the largest contributor to the campaign. Obviously, I object to the obnoxious description of our relationship. However, upon reflection, I’m glad that it was stated as openly and as viciously as it was. It underscores that Gia’s and my relationship is going to be a topic of conversation, impossible to hide. Which means that we need to revamp our strategy. To be crass, rather than obscuring or downplaying our relationship, I think we need to take advantage of the fact that we are in love with each other.”
When even Ben looked surprised and Gia’s frown was fierce, Logan grinned. “C’mon, who in the rabid press isn’t going to orgasm over the ‘affair’ between a superstar like Gia Tremaine and a hotshot entrepreneur?”
Gia didn’t hide her disdain. “So now you want to promote our relationship like Kim and Kanye? Brad and Angelina? Or how about Prince Harry and Meghan Markel, in that you are akin to royalty in the entrepreneurial world and I’m the daughter of a convicted felon—”
Logan interrupted her. “Down, girl. No, I’m not recommending that we exploit our relationship like those tabloid whores. Rather, I think we shouldn’t go overboard trying to deny it. Or, frankly, confirming it. We’re obviously going to be seen together . . . a lot. It will be clear that we have a relationship. Let the press or others define it—which they will regardless of what we do or say. What we can make clear is that we are working together in the campaign and that we are spending a lot of time together. And that we enjoy being with each other. Enough said.” He shrugged. “Heck, a little mystery can go a long way.”
Gia wanted to object. She honestly didn’t know if she could handle the kind of things that Savannah et al. would be saying about her. But she acknowledged that Logan was right. No matter what they did, Savannah and her claque and likely the sensationalist media would be eager to define their relationship in ugly, challenging terms. She reminded herself that she’d lived her life in a fishbowl and had blown off the most disreputable lies about herself, as well as the truths about her father. And she’d survived and thrived in that all-too-public fishbowl.
Meeting Logan’s intense gaze, she nodded in agreement. “It’s hard to acknowledge that many people will go out of their way to try to make what we have ugly. But then, if anyone has learned to brush off disgusting rumors, it’s me.” She hesitated and then confessed, “I don’t know why, but in a weird way, this seems so much more personal.”
He reached for her and pulled her up next to him. “Perhaps because it is, princess? Let’s face it, neither one of us has been in love before, which makes this adventure akin to jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.” He grinned. “But heck, Gia, both of us are hardcore risk-takers. Here’s our chance to up the ante on our outrageousness a few hundred echelons.” Turning to the trio, who were staring at them wide-eyed, he chuckled. “How about it? You guys up for the ride of your lives?”
When the rest of the team including Gia nodded, Logan took advantage of their lukewarm agreement and changed the subject. Booting up his computer, he didn’t try to hide his excitement. “Even though I was MIA the last couple of days, rest assured, all of you and the campaign were never far from my mind. To prove the point, I want to show you this.”
The picture that took over the screen was the shape of their state. The wallpaper background was a collage of faces. Men, women, and children, a variety of ages, races, and occupations were represented. The faces of farmers, business people, teachers, nurses, homemakers, etc., overlapped. As the collage began to morph, one face emerged from the crowd until it assumed the center of the pictograph. It was Gia’s lovely face. Across the bottom of the screen the words scrolled, “The Best Man for the Job is . . . a Woman,” which faded off the screen leaving the word “Gia.”
Speaking for the group, Ben emitted a resounding whistle that ended in a passionate, “Wow!” Amplifying the excited chorus from the girls, Ben crowed, “Damn, Logan, this is fucking brilliant. In one screen you capture the fact that every segment of the population is worthy of our attention, that we want to work for them, all of them. Plus the slogan ‘The Best Man for the Job is . . . a Woman’ is ingenious. Wickedly funny . . . feisty. Just like our woman.” He blew out a hard sigh and leaned back in his chair, his eyes blazing with excitement. “And then her beautiful face emerges from the crowd. A subtle declaration that she is the champion for every person in the multi-leveled electorate represented on the screen. But the absolute brilliance of the ad is that you sum up the complexity and the possibility of our stunning candidate in one word: Gia. With that one word left on the screen beneath the riveting visual, you are declaring ‘enough said.’ ” Again he shook his head in wonder. “Damn, Logan, so fucking clever.”
Kaila echoed his enthusiastic praise. “Ben’s right. This is amazing. We know how beautiful Gia is. But it’s almost de rigueur in politics that to look like a serious candidate, women have to play down their attractiveness. Look at what Gretchen did. No one can call her attractive, but she seemed to accentuate her dumpiness. As if that made her a more serious candidate.”
“You’re right, Kaila. Like being attractive will turn off the audience. That other women might be jealous. You notice that men don’t do that. At least if they happen to be good-looking, they make the most of it. So yes. Why shouldn’t we show Gia as she is?”
Logan agreed with both eager women. “Why, indeed? You’re exactly right, Emma, and so are you, Kaila. Gia is a beautiful woman. Stunningly beautiful. Add to that, she is smart as hell. Best of all, she reeks charisma. We would be crazy not to focus our candidacy on her. By definition, that means we celebrate her beauty, her smarts, and her verve. And as Ben correctly concluded regarding our underlying slogan, all of those compelling elements are summed up in one word: Gia.” Nodding to Ben, Logan continued. “I’m glad to know that our savvy campaign manager understands the power of that one word to speak for our campaign. And you women have asked exactly the right question about how and why we need to celebrate Gia’s pulchritude. Not to do so would be akin to diminishing a glorious sunrise by insisting that rain is always possible.”
Turning to Gia, who was staring at the screen, her cheeks flushed, Logan quirked an inquiring brow. “That said, I’m curious how the candidate feels about this admittedly brazen attempt to base our entire campaign on her. Essentially creating a cult of personality and running with it.”
Gia pressed her lips together and shook her head. Logan assumed that she might pull back, question the advisability of focusing
on her rather than on a couple of key issues. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Gia blew out an audible sigh and proclaimed, “Ben is right. And so are Kaila and Emma. It’s brilliant, Logan. Seriously, at the risk of sounding like the campaign is all about me, let’s be honest. It is.”
“Precisely!” Ben practically shouted. “That’s what makes this approach as powerful as it is. Gia already is a cult of personality. Why wouldn’t we acknowledge that and run with it? You should have been with us these last three days, Logan. People couldn’t get enough of her. They wanted to see her, touch her, talk to her. We had to battle crowds everywhere we went. Even little kids were running after us, calling her name.” Gazing at Logan, Ben was effusive. “We all know how important it is to strike the right note from day one. This proposed campaign ensures that we will do exactly that. Gia. Perfect. It’s as simple, as complicated, and as powerful as the woman herself.”
Logan nodded in agreement. “Gia truly is a star. Now as we all know, the media and, most certainly, Gus Underwood’s campaign will do everything in their power to shoot at that star. They need to rub off some of its shine, compromise its power. That is to be expected. But we will be ready for that with a carefully constructed list of issues that will flesh out the seriousness of the campaign. Were I to state it—or at least imply it, Gia is a compelling mix of beauty and brains. People will see the beauty first. That it is backed up by a compelling list of issues makes her charisma even more powerful.”
Needing to regain a semblance of her authority in the campaign, Gia turned on Ben. She was still angry that he had had told Logan the ugly things that Savannah and her awful friends said about her. “By the way, while I know you all think that Logan is the second coming of Christ and is in charge of the universe, it doesn’t mean that he needs to know things I share with you confidentially.” She shot Ben a mirthless grin. “But don’t worry, we’ll deal with your traitorous actions later . . . privately.”
