by Ivy Nelson
“Oh all right, you win,” she said. “I’ll have Jameson on the rocks please.” He raised an eyebrow at her drink of choice.
“A little early for whiskey isn’t it Miss... what did you say your name was?”
“Darci, Darci Sanders. And you are?” So it is her.
“Bradley Givens at your service ma’am,” he drawled with a dramatic bow as she settled onto a barstool. She giggled, but an odd look crossed her features. He started to ask about it but stopped himself. Flagging the bartender down, he ordered their drinks.
Her expression grew thoughtful as if she were trying to remember something.
“Givens. Are you related to Steve Givens? The former governor of Arkansas?”
“He’s my father.” His response came out stiffer than he intended.
Recognition lit up her bright green eyes as she exclaimed, “Oh! You’re Senator Atleigh’s chief of staff. I can’t imagine your father is happy about that.”
“What makes you say that?” It seemed Darci knew a little something about politics. That made him happy.
“Oh come on. Atleigh and Givens don’t exactly see eye to eye. Isn’t your father considering a run for president? There is no way he likes you working for his potential competition.”
President? My father? Out loud he asked, “And where did you hear that awful rumor?”
Surprise flashed across her face before she recovered and said, “Oh, you know how the D.C. gossip mill is.”
“Gossip is all it is, I assure you, Miss Sanders.” He spoke with confidence, but inside a small bubble of panic formed. “I don’t want to discuss my father,” he said, hoping to steer the conversation some place more pleasant.
“Somebody has daddy issues,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
Bradley stiffened. “Watch your tongue, Miss Sanders. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The bartender came back with their drinks much to Bradley’s relief. He needed to get away from this topic. He handed her the chilled whiskey and raised his own glass. “Drink up. Let’s talk about you.”
“I can assure you, your life is much more interesting,” she said, her brilliant green eyes boring into him over her glass as she took a long sip.
“You should let me be the judge of that.” He paused, considering mentioning he recognized her from one of his favorite blogs. At first, he wasn't sure, but now that they had been speaking for a few minutes he was positive he was sharing a drink with his favorite blogger. She wasn’t shy about posting face pictures, and there was no mistaking those eyes. They were the greenest eyes he had ever seen. She wore a blue top today that made them sparkle even more.
He shook his head when he realized he’d been staring. “Sorry, I lost my train of thought,” he said, and felt lame for not being able to come up with a better response.
“Boring you, am I?” A mischievous grin spread across her face. Bradley wanted to find other ways to make her grin that way.
“Not in the least, Darci. Do you mind if I call you Darci?”
“Well, that is my name, Mr. Givens.”
“Bradley, please.” He wanted to learn more about this quirky blogger, so he asked, “Who are you meeting today? Some dashing fellow I suppose.”
“A client actually. You’re likely to find her more attractive than I do—not that I’m above appreciating the female form.” Darci winked as that mischievous grin appeared again. There was something else in her eyes. A wistful look. A fond memory? He wanted to find out.
“Mr. Givens! You seem distant today,” she chastised with a playful grin.
A blush crept up Bradley's neck onto his cheeks at her teasing reprimand and he grimaced. He never blushed.
Before he could respond with his own jab, a tall blonde came rushing toward the bar. She was well groomed and wore a fitted black dress and a pair of nude heels that made her legs look a mile long.
“There you are,” she said as she reached them. She seemed flustered by the site of Darci, but she offered her hand. “Peggy Jacobs. Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Bradley’s?” Bradley rolled his eyes at the girl’s question and answered before Darci could.
“I accidentally bumped into Miss Sanders coming through the door. She’s waiting for someone as well, so I bought her a drink while we were waiting.”
“Always the gentlemen, isn’t he?” He could hear sarcasm in her sugary sweet voice. He almost rolled his eyes again but restrained himself. Instead, he put his hand on her arm, applying enough pressure to get her attention but not enough for Darci to notice.
“Come, our table should be ready.”
Turning, he said, “Darci, it was a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to bump into you again.”
“Maybe we can avoid the bumping next time?” She smiled sweetly, but there was mischief in her voice. It made him smile.
Darci shifted her gaze to Peggy and said, “It was lovely to meet you. I see my client. Perfect timing.” She waved at a dark-haired woman who looked a little lost at the other end of the bar.
Bradley couldn’t help but steal a final glance at Darci as the hostess led them to their table. What a delightful woman.
• • •
Darci watched Bradley Givens walk away with the leggy woman on his arm. He had to be at least a foot taller than Darci, but in heels, his lunch companion was almost his height. She kicked herself for not asking to meet with the senator. Why did he have to be so damn charming? And handsome? His dark brown hair was too long as if he needed a haircut. It was the intensity in his blue eyes when he looked at her that must have thrown her off her game. She tossed back the last of her whiskey and headed to where the timid woman was waiting. She wore a conservative knee-length floral print dress. Over it, a pale blue cardigan. The girl looked nervous, and Darci couldn’t blame her. As she walked towards the waiting girl, she plastered on what she hoped was a warm and inviting smile.
“You must be Tessa. I’m Darci. Thanks for meeting me. You look like someone. But I can’t put my finger on who.” Tessa flashed a timid smile and accepted Darci’s extended hand.
“It’s good to meet you, Darci. I’m sorry I’m so nervous.”
Darci patted the young girl's shoulder. “It’s fine, let’s go see if our table is ready and we can enjoy a nice lunch and chat.”
Five minutes later, they were sitting behind Bradley Givens. She was staring at the back of Bradley’s head and was in his companion’s direct line of site. To Darci’s eye the pretty blonde looked glum. A waiter came and took their order. Once he left, Darci tried to get the conversation started. She had to force herself to keep her eyes from wandering over to Bradley’s table.
After she managed to wrench her eyes away she took ten seconds to gather her thoughts and then said, “First, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but the more you can give me the better I’ll be able to help you.”
Tessa nodded. “It’s hard to talk about, Miss Sanders. I never thought anything like this would happen.”
Darci understood what the girl was going through and patted her hand in reassurance.
“Nobody expects this to happen, Tessa. This was not your fault, and it’s important you keep that in mind.” She paused, letting her words sink in. When she saw some of the tension leave Tessa’s shoulders, she continued.
“You told me you worry about losing your scholarship. Why is that?” Darci suspected she already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from Tessa.
The girl explained she first reported the assault to her boss, the Dean of Student Affairs. She had been working in his office for the last two years. Instead of calling the police, the university official had asked her to think about her own future and how such an accusation could affect her. Darci fought to keep the anger hidden. She didn’t want Tessa thinking she was mad at her.
“It was like he didn’t believe me. He tried to tell me a trial would be hard on me and it might be impossible to prove rape and then people would s
ay I was a liar.”
Darci stopped the girl there. “I believe you, Tessa. Second, what your boss did is unethical. I can and will help you, but first, we need to go to the police. Can you identify your attacker?” Tessa nodded and looked around the restaurant as if her rapist might be nearby. Darci patted her hand again. “It’s OK. Let’s enjoy our lunch, then we'll go back to my office and talk in private.”
“Thank you, Miss Sanders. For believing me. For helping.” The girl's voice wavered, and tears pooled in her eyes. It ripped at Darci's heart.
“Call me Darci. You deserve justice for what happened to you. It won’t heal the scars, but it can ease the pain.”
Their food arrived, and Darci changed the topic asking the girl simple questions about her life. As the meal progressed Tessa became more relaxed and seemed to enjoy their conversation.
After they finished their meal, Darci paid the bill and told Tessa they would meet back at her office. On the way out, she stopped by Bradley’s table.
“Thank you again for the drink, Mr. Givens. Miss Jacobs, it was a pleasure meeting you.” She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Bradley. “I’ve been trying to arrange a face-to-face meeting with Senator Atleigh. Can you help me?”
He accepted the card and tucked it inside his dark navy suit jacket without looking at it. “I’ll see what I can do Miss Sanders.”
Back in her office, she walked the girl through the process of reporting her attack to the police. Her best friend Michael Silas was a detective for the Metropolitan Police Department, and she knew from experience he would make Tessa as comfortable as possible.
When she told Tessa she was going to connect her with him, the poor girl’s nerves resurfaced. “Do you think I could talk to him in private? I don’t know if I can get the details out with someone else sitting here.”
Darci didn’t hesitate to reassure the girl that she would step out and give her some privacy. She got Michael on the phone, then stepped into the reception area to chat with her assistant, Kimberly. A half hour later, she put Tessa in a cab on her way to file an official report at Michael’s precinct. Darci would have to buy him coffee. She promised Tessa she would check on her that evening. She called Michael again as soon as the girl was gone.
“Thank you so much, Michael.”
“You’re welcome sweetheart. I didn’t think you normally took that kind of client.” She smiled. He knew her well and knew the reasons she wouldn’t want to handle a rape case.
“It was a situation where I didn’t have an option.”
They made small talk for a bit but Darci’s mind kept coming back to Bradley. She was obviously starving for male attention she decided. Maybe it was time for a change.
“Are you going to Exposure this weekend?” she asked.
“I hadn’t decided yet. Why?”
“I’m thinking about it. I know I haven’t been in a long time.”
“It would be good for you, Darci. We miss you.” Darci heard someone shout his name in the background. “Hey, I gotta run but call me if you decide to go.”
They said goodbye and Darci settled in at her desk, she pulled up Senator Atleigh’s website and found the staff profile for Bradley Givens.
She should have been harassing the other senators on her list, but he intrigued her. Who was Peggy to him? How long had he been in D.C.? It was a long shot, but she hoped he would call her about meeting with his boss because then she would get to see him again.
Darci kicked herself. She could never pursue someone who worked for Sean Atleigh. He was running for president, and he stood for everything Darci was fighting against at the ACSL. If Bradley was working for him, that meant he held the same beliefs as Senator Atleigh. That alone should have made him repulsive, but Darci couldn’t tear her gaze away from the piercing blue eyes staring at her from the screen of her computer. Yep, it was definitely time to go back to Exposure.
Chapter Three
Bradley walked down the hallway of the Hart Senate Office Building. His dark semi shaggy hair fell into his eyes as he moved. He needed a haircut. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he replayed his lunch encounter with the cute blogger named Darci. As he reached the door marked Sean Atleigh, he fingered the business card he had tucked in his pocket. While he was out, the senator pushed their meeting back an hour, so he had free time. He intended to research the intriguing redhead.
Why did she want to meet with his boss? According to her blog she was the spokesperson for an organization in D.C., but he wasn’t sure which one. The blog wasn't political, it was sexual. In fact, sometimes it was downright NSFW.
In the reception area, Adara motioned him to her desk, but he waved her off, intent on getting to his computer to start his research. “Give me a minute Adara. I need to take care of something.”
“Boss wait,” Adara said, getting up from her desk.
It was too late. Bradley was over the threshold to his private office. He stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he opened the door. A man with silver hair sat on his couch reading a paper.
“Dad?” he said, not bothering to keep the surprise from his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry boss,” Adara said from the doorway. “I tried to warn you.”
“It's fine. Shut the door and hold my calls please.” She closed the door without another word.
“Sorry to drop in unannounced son. You're difficult to get a hold of these days.” The stately man folded his paper and motioned for Bradley to have a seat as if they were in his office instead of Bradley’s.
“Sorry, Dad It's been a hectic week. Is everything OK? Is Mom doing well?” Bradley asked, settling into the chair next to his father.
“Your mother is fine. She would be better if you would visit more often.”
“I’ll make a trip soon. I promise.” Bradley shifted. What is he doing here?
“That's not why I'm here anyway,” Steve Givens said, reading his son’s thoughts. “I want to share some news before it gets out. But first I want to ask you something.”
“Sure, Dad what is it?” Tendrils of panic raced through Bradley as Darci’s question at the restaurant came back to him. Surely not. He’s never expressed interest in being president.
“I want to offer you a job.” Bradley closed his eyes. Not this again.
“Dad please. We've been over this. I don't want it to look like I'm riding on your coat tails. I need to do this on my own.”
“Well, you need to know I'm throwing my hat into the ring.”
“Ring? Dad, what are you telling me?” Bradley's throat tightened as the panic grew. How on earth did Darci have this information before me?
“I'm saying I'm running for president.” It was a simple sentence, said with the ease with which one might declare they are going to the store—but it confirmed Bradley’s worst nightmare.
“What? Dad why?”
“Because I don't like our options right now and I feel like I have no choice.”
“Dad, you can't do this!” Bradley felt his face heating as he struggled to keep from raising his voice. “Atleigh will mop the floor with you if you make it to the general election. How do I explain to the press I'm working for my father’s competition?”
“You don't, you come work for me.” The ‘no big deal,’ attitude his father said it with had Bradley clenching his fists and inhaling to keep from unleashing a string of expletives.
“Dad, no, I can't. What the fuck do I tell Atleigh? You need to steer clear of me if you're hell bent on doing this. Otherwise, people will think I'm spying for you.”
Steve held up his hands. “Son, stop. Calm down. Like I said, I wanted you to hear it from me before the media gets wind. I knew it was wishful thinking for you to take a job with me, but I had to try.”
“Well, you have my answer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a full afternoon.” He crossed the room and opened his door. A dismissive gesture. Steve Givens stood and joined Bradley, placing a hand on his
shoulder. Disappointment filled his eyes.
“I love you Son, and I'm serious about visiting your mother more often.”
“I love you too, Dad. I promise I'll come home soon.” He hugged his dad despite his anger. After Steve left, Bradley paced back and forth.
This could not be happening. A glance at his watch told him he still had forty-five minutes until his meeting. He poked his head out his door. “Adara, can you see if the senator is available now? I have urgent matters to discuss with him.”
“Sure boss. Is everything all right with your father?”
“Fine.” Bradley chose not to tell his assistant what was bothering him. “The senator please, Adara. It's important.” He was glad she caught on to him not wanting to talk about it. Sean Atleigh would have a fucking field day with this. How am I supposed to convince him to keep me on as chief of staff and campaign manager? Adara's voice came over the intercom interrupting his thoughts.
“The senator said you can come to his office in fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you, Adara. You can take off for the day. Enjoy your evening.”
“Are you sure? I don't mind staying.”
“I insist, you deserve the extra time away from here. Things are about to get crazy, and we'll be working a lot of nights and weekends.”
“You got it boss; I'll see you tomorrow.” Bradley smiled, he needed to do something nice for her. He couldn't ask for a more efficient assistant or a better friend.
Bradley summoned all his courage and headed to Sean Atleigh’s office. The distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair perched on the corner of his desk chatting with an intern about ‘the good ole days’ when Bradley arrived. For a moment, he held back and listened to his mentor tell his stories. Atleigh had a booming voice and stood over six feet tall. He wore elegant, well-tailored three-piece suits, and he didn’t mind flashing his wealth. That didn't stop him from rolling up his sleeves to work with interns and low-level staffers to accomplish his goals. Bradley observed for another minute before he made his presence known and dismissed the young staffer. As he closed the door, he braced himself for the possibility that his boss might fire him on the spot.
