by Ivy Nelson
He felt the temperature in the room shift as he glanced at Darci who was likely reading the same headline on her phone. If her face was any indication, she was not happy.
“Are you fucking kidding me Bradley? A group that condones violence toward women?”
Yep, definitely not happy. She wasn’t finished either.
“How the hell can you work for this ass hat?” He closed his eyes. Her anger wasn’t entirely unwarranted, but there really wasn’t a need for name calling.
“Don't be angry at me, Darci. I'm not happy with him right now either. I swear the press got to him without his handlers being present.”
“Does this country want a president that needs babysitters?” Her tone was bitter, but she had a point. Sort of.
“Come on Darci all candidates have handlers,” he pointed out trying to calm her down.
“Well you guys need to do a better job,” she hissed.
He sighed. “And we were having such a nice breakfast.”
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stood. “I’m sorry Mr. Givens, I have to leave. Thank you for breakfast. Let me know if you decide on letting me meet with your boss. Not today though. If I talk to him today, I might punch him.”
Turning, she stalked away. Bradley jumped up to follow her.
“Darci wait.” He caught up to her and touched her elbow. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t understand how I can work for him, but I promise you he isn’t all bad. I’m going to clean this up, but I might need your help.”
Red hair went flying as she whirled to face him. “Why the fuck would I want to help him?”
“I know it sounds crazy but hear me out. Share my car. I’ll drop you at your office. If I remember right, it’s on the way.”
“Fine. But I’m not agreeing to anything.”
He smiled. “Just listen. That’s all I ask.”
The car ride to Darci’s office was tense. Bradley had to first make a few calls before he could hash out his plan with her. While he was on the phone, he could feel the daggers boring into him as she glared, tapping away at the screen on her own phone.
“Adara, cancel the morning briefing and clear my schedule for the next couple hours. I’m on my way. Tell the other department heads to clear their mornings too. I may need them. And cancel my afternoon meeting with Peggy.” He winced and changed his mind. “No, wait. Don’t cancel. Just move it to a restaurant near the office. One last thing. Get the senator in my office at two-thirty this afternoon. My office. Not his.” He ended his final call and turned his attention to Darci.
“Not going to tell her about the mix up?” she asked in a sweet voice, but her eyes were still icy.
“I don’t like dealing with things like that in front of others,” he responded. “I’ll talk to her privately.”
He changed subjects.
“There’s a benefit Marlie was hosting in two weeks. I wasn’t going to attend because of obligations with the senator. If you can get me six tickets, I can clear those obligations. I heard they are already sold out, but I know you can pull some strings for me.”
She tapped on her screen again.
“I could do it, but it will cost you a lot of dough. It’s sold out, but we can always squeeze in a few VIP guests. I don’t know how I feel about Sean Atleigh being a VIP at her benefit though.”
He sighed. “I know it feels ugly. I do. I’ll make you a deal though. You get me the tickets, price doesn’t matter, and I’ll arrange a meeting with you and Atleigh.”
“Alone. No handlers.”
“You know I can’t do that. I mean look what happened when he talked to the press.”
“No tickets then.”
He glared. Stubborn girl. “Fine. Fifteen minutes, unsupervised at the benefit.”
After an awkward moment of silence, she turned to stare out the window and said, “OK. Deal.”
They said a tense goodbye at her building, and Bradley continued on to his own. The day had started out so well.
At his office he stopped at Adara’s desk.
“I need everything you can find on the senator’s press conference. Give me some uninterrupted time and then I’m going to want meetings with Cassie, Sandra, and Charlie.”
“Yes, boss. And I moved your lunch with Peggy to Union Pub.”
“Bless you. I’ll be in here banging my head against the wall if you need me.”
The assistant grinned and shooed him away from her desk. “I’ll send everything I find to your printer.”
As soon as he walked into his office his printer started whirring and spitting out pages. He grabbed the first of the articles that came out and settled in at his desk. A glance at his monitor told him that Adara had found video of the conference and sent that to him as well.
As he was finishing up the first article, Sandra and Charlie busted through his door. He could hear Adara yelling after them not to go in.
“What the fuck is Atleigh thinking?” Charlie asked.
“Clearly he wasn't, Charles,” Sandra said in an icy tone. “So much for gaining favorability with women.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Calm down people,” Bradley said hoping to reign things in before they got out of hand. “And stop running over Adara.” They both rolled their eyes but nodded obediently when Bradley pinned them with an angry glare. Once they relaxed, he said, “It's our job to fix this so let's get on it.”
Bradley spent the rest of the morning with his team formulating a plan that involved a detailed statement to the press and an appearance at the event Darci would hopefully be getting him tickets for. Next came the fun part of getting the senator to see the error of his ways.
At twelve-thirty, he wrapped up and sent the staff to put the rest of the plan in motion. One crisis on its way to being handled, one more in the form of a leggy blonde to handle. He stopped at Adara’s desk,
“If I'm not in the office by two o’clock call me and tell me I have an urgent meeting to get to.” Adara smirked at him but politely agreed and went back to her computer. On his way to the pub he messaged Darci to let her know his plan was in motion and he just needed tickets. On a whim he sent a second text asking if she was free for dinner.
Chapter Nine
Darci slammed the door to her office. It was early still, and she was the only one here, so she had some time to reflect on what had just happened. How in the world was she supposed to do what Bradley was asking? Atleigh had always been outspoken about issues that involved women, and he wasn’t usually on the right side of the argument.
He was anti-abortion, supported legislation that made it harder for women to get justice for rape and had given speeches that blamed the victims of domestic violence for staying in a dangerous situation. He also had it out for the adult industry and anything that wasn't sex within the confines of a heterosexual marriage. Since meeting him, Darci often wondered how Bradley justified his support for the man when he didn’t hold the same convictions.
Now, the man was saying Marlie deserved to die. No, there was no way in hell she wanted to help that man. It didn't matter how charming and convincing Bradley Givens was. Sure, she wanted the face-to-face with Atleigh but was it going to change anything? Probably not. It was time to move on to the other senators co-sponsoring his ridiculous legislation and forget Bradley Givens existed. Her phone dinged.
Seriously? He has the nerve to ask me to dinner?
Ignoring Bradley’s text, she sat at her desk and began to draft a blog entry berating the senator from Arizona. Her fingers flew across the keys with too much force as she let her emotions flow onto the screen.
Before she could hit publish, her conscience got the better of her. It was a rule that she never posted anything while angry. She hit save draft instead and promised herself she would come back to it after she calmed down.
Jim—her boss and the organizations founder—knocked on her door as she was closing her browser.
“Hey Jim, I didn’t hear you come in.”
&n
bsp; “Used the back door into my office. Did you read what Atleigh said this morning?” He held his phone out to her as he perched on the corner of her desk.
“Saw it. Guess who I was having breakfast with when it happened?”
“Who?” Her boss looked puzzled.
“Bradley Givens. His chief of staff. As a result, I might have an in on that face-to-face with Atleigh.”
“How the hell did you manage that, girl?” he asked with a whistle.
She grinned. It’s a long story but let’s just say Givens owed me. Don’t worry, I didn’t promise not to go after Atleigh with everything we have, but I am doing him a huge favor and getting a lot of money out of him in the process.” At her bosses even more puzzled expression, she explained what Bradley had asked her to do.
Jim shifted off her desk and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m gonna let you handle all the press on this one, Darci. I know you have… connections to the BDSM community and will probably be better at it than I am.”
She tried not to smirk at his discomfort. Her boss knew she was kinky and was even close to several leaders in the kink community, but it wasn’t something he was into himself, so he sometimes got uncomfortable discussing it with her. He never judged though, and he was a strong ally of the community.
There had been several abuse cases and murders that had been attributed to involvement in the lifestyle. However, the organization worked hard to make sure the media understood these were posers and fakes. The legitimate BDSM community did not condone violence toward anyone, especially against women. Safe, sane, and consensual was the motto, and the community shunned anyone who did not adhere to those three tenets.
Darci wanted to give Senator Atleigh a non-consensual flogging. A giggle escaped at the thought of the uptight bastard strapped to a cross with a ball gag. She banished the disturbing thought as soon as it appeared and smiled at Jim who was still standing in her office.
“I’m going to bring it up tonight on Jake Holt. One of Atleigh’s people is on the panel with me.”
“Don’t start a fight on national television Darci. If the topic comes up, you can defend our position but don’t go starting something on purpose.” Darci scowled at her boss but nodded in agreement. He was right. Arguing with someone who would never change their opinion wasn’t productive, neither was berating Atleigh on her blog.
When Jim left, she went back to her saved entry and read it again. After changing the harshest language, she included a memorial to Marlie and a donation button encouraging readers to give to her organization. She ended by saying;
Let me be clear, the death of Marlie Dixon had nothing to do with her involvement in the BDSM lifestyle. The people in this community are loving and supportive. There isn't a club in town that wouldn't hesitate to shun and have arrested anyone who raised a hand to a woman in anger or without consent. Instead of focusing on the fact that she was involved in kink, let’s try to solve her murder.
She hit publish and turned her attention to a plan of attack for the day. It was a challenge to keep her thoughts off Atleigh and his seeming hatred of sex. Darci had never been quiet about the fact that she advocated for the rights of sex-workers. Decriminalizing prostitution was also on her list of things to tackle. It would go a long way to helping many people. First, she had to make sure the legislation on pornography never got to a vote and hit back where Atleigh’s statement was concerned.
When she was in college, she used to dream of running for Congress and maybe even the presidency. Since then, she had worked with enough elected officials to know she was much happier working here with the American Coalition for Sexual Liberty. It afforded her the opportunity to make a difference without the parading around begging for votes part.
It did mean going on cable news shows though. The clock on her desktop screen told her if she was going to make it to the studio on time, she would need to leave soon.
Chapter Ten
“Peggy, please stop crying. I'm sorry to spring this on you.” Bradley kept his voice low as he sat across from a very upset Peggy Jacobs.
“I... did I do something wrong?” the girl asked when her tears subsided. Bradley sighed. Ending things with her was proving to be more difficult than he wanted it to be.
“No, Peggy. It's just not working for me. That doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong; it just means we’re better off as friends.”
“Is there someone else?” she asked, a sullen expression on her face.
“No,” Bradley said emphatically. It was true, but Darci’s face popped into his brain, and he felt guilty. Peggy began to cry again.
“Peggy stop, please. It's many things. You're a lovely girl and a great friend. I'm not the right Dom for you. You want more than what we have, and I don’t have that in me right now. You also know I don’t feel that way about you. We tried an experiment and it’s not working. It’s unfair for me to keep asking you to give so much when I can’t give you the things you want. Is that so hard to understand?”
Peggy’s pout lasted only a moment before her expression turned to one of anger. That didn’t take long, he thought.
“What if I go to the press and tell them all the dirty things you like doing with women?”
“Peggy, stop right now.” He knew she would recognize his tone and know he wasn’t playing around. He felt bad for taking the tone with her. It was one he had perfected as a Dom, and it had a way of making submissive women squirm, but it also got their attention when he needed it.
“I’ve told you I'm sorry. Can we please end this peacefully? Do you really want to try to blackmail me into staying with you? That you would even consider it tells me we aren’t right together. It’s also not something friends would do to each other.” He paused and waited for her to look at him. His expression demanded that she keep eye contact with him as he continued. “You have a lot to lose by exposing yourself that way, and you know it. Outing me outs you. Your charity would lose a lot of funding if they found out what the daughter of its founder was up to.”
The girl huffed and lowered her head in defeat. Bradley spoke again, but this time his tone was gentle.
“Peggy, look, I'm not trying to make things difficult for you. I want you to do what you enjoy doing, and you've said it yourself, I'm not exciting enough for you. Go, be yourself. Do exciting things. I don't want to stand in your way anymore. I’m about to be traveling full time for the campaign, and I know you have opportunities to travel yourself.” Her eyes closed as he spoke, and she appeared to be doing a breathing exercise.
“I'm sorry I threatened to tell the media,” she said when she opened her eyes again. “I like you, Bradley. I'm sorry I'm not what you're looking for. Can we still be friends at least?”
He smiled kindly at her. “Of course, you'll always be special, Peggy. We were friends long before we tried this experiment. You can come to me anytime you need anything, and we can still get together and do things as friends.” As he reached to pat her hand, his phone rang. He realized it was two o’clock.
“I need to take this, it's Adara.” He excused himself and stepped into the restaurant lobby to take the call. When he returned, Peggy was gone, but on a napkin, she had scrawled a note.
Thanks for everything, see you around.
Xoxo Peggy
He sighed and slipped the napkin into his pocket. After paying the check, he headed back to his office to finish his day. He was happy their arrangement was over, but he never liked making people cry. At least not like that.
Bradley sat at his desk late that afternoon reading Darci's blog entry. It had been a long day. The senator couldn't seem to comprehend why saying what he had would alienate women. After half an hour of arguing, Bradley convinced him to go along with the plan he and his staff cooked up.
Adara was already complaining about the number of phone calls the office was getting from angry female voters and women’s rights organizations. Bradley was afraid that if they didn't do something, they would lose the su
pport of key donors, and losing support this early in the campaign could be a death sentence.
After getting the senator's stamp of approval, Bradley issued a press release clarifying his statement and offering condolences to the family and friends of the victim. He hoped Darci would come through for him with tickets to the benefit. The proceeds would go to Marlie Dixon’s domestic violence charity. There were other people he could have gone to for tickets, and there were other events he could have sent the senator to. He tried to tell himself he didn’t pick her or this event because he wanted to see Darci in another cocktail dress.
Now, as he read Darci's blog, he was smiling and agreeing with her thoughts. It surprised him that she hadn't raked the senator over the coals. Instead, she tactfully disputed what the senator had to say and wrote another kind memorial to the dead woman. The donation bar at the bottom of the entry was already half full. Too bad he couldn't get her to fundraise for his boss.
Picking up his phone, he sent her a text to tell her he thought her post was tasteful. He also thanked her for not being angrier in what she wrote and asked her to let him know about tickets.
Darci’s anger wasn’t unwarranted. The senator often caused him to question why he worked for him, but the man gave him a chance, and now thanks to his early support Bradley was becoming one of the powerful and well-known campaign managers he admired in college. Since they announced the bid for the nomination, he had received three offers to work for other campaigns. Bradley turned them all down because he was nothing if not loyal.
As he prepared to end his day, it occurred to him to wonder what his father would have to say about Senator Atleigh's outburst to the media last night. He made a mental note to find out. If his father raised the money, he would be a formidable adversary in the general election. If there's one thing Steve and Ailene Givens knew how to do, it was to raise money. He smiled as he thought of his mother. It was probably time to plan a trip home soon.
