The Senator's Secret (A Presidential Affair Book 1)

by Jennifer Rebecca

  “So—” She turns her focus to me after Anthony walks away. “—have you talked to Angie lately?”

  “Not recently,” I reply. “Last I heard, she was deep in wedded bliss with Cody in some small town in Texas.” Angie, our third friend, left New York when she found her boyfriend banging a nurse at the hospital they both worked at. Her aunt whisked her off to a small town in East Texas, where she fell in love with a retired professional football player. I have a feeling there will be a whole sea of little football-loving babies before long. Their brand-new daughter, Joy, is a fantastic start.

  “That’s what I hear,” Jules agrees on a sigh. “I miss her though.”

  “Me too. And Aunt Mable.”

  Jules smiles at that. “She was always worse than the three of us.”

  “I hear nothing’s changed on that front.”

  “Here you go, ladies,” Anthony says as he places a cold martini glass in front of each of us and a wooden carving board of breads, cheeses, and fruits between us.

  “Thank you,” I say on a smile as I reach for my glass.

  Jules, again, turns her attention back to me as he walks away, and my sip turns into a gulp. I know her inquisition is coming; I just don’t want to answer right now.

  “So, now, what’s really going on?” she asks me.

  “Why would you think anything is going on?” I counter her question with one of my own.

  “Because you are evading my question, and you never do that unless something is bothering you, so you might as well just spit it out. I’m going to find out anyway.”

  “That’s true,” I say on a sigh.

  “So, what is it?” Jules asks as she serves up bread and cheese on two small plates before passing me one.

  “My Open Arms project is dead in the water,” I admit before stuffing a giant bite of bread in my mouth. Sometimes you just have to admit to yourself that life kind of sucks in the moment and then eat your feelings. I’m okay with accepting that now is my moment.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Last night, I went to the gala for Purple Paws, and Senator Chancellor was there,” I begin to explain.

  “And how is the man of the hour?” she asks. “I hear his campaign is off and running.”

  “Ruining my life,” I snap a little too harshly before regretting my misplaced emotion in a public setting. I reach for my glass again and take another huge sip.

  “Easy there, killer.” She smirks. “So how is Bachelor of the Year ruining your life? Tell Auntie Julia, so she can fix it and make the mean man pay.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say as I take my time spreading a soft cheese over a piece of bread. “Every single person I talked to about backing my project said they would only commit if Chancellor was connected.”

  “Every single one? That seems a bit excessive.”

  “It was. Everyone wants him or access to him,” I whine.

  “He is running for President of the United States,” she says softly before sipping her cocktail. “I can understand why people are interested.”

  “But my project?” I ask. “I don’t need him.”

  “One could argue at this juncture that you do,” she tells me quietly just before Anthony comes back to take our dinner order and deliver another martini to me.

  “Don’t remind me!” I practically whine. God, I hate who he makes me be. I am not this whiny person. I don’t need him to clear the path for me, dammit. I will clear it on my own.

  “What can I get you ladies?” Anthony asks.

  “The steak, medium, baked potato, and a salad,” she orders.

  “Very good,” he says before turning to me. “And for you?”

  By now, I’m a fair amount of vodka and not a lot of food deep, something I never do, so I follow Jules’s lead and load up. “The same for me please.”

  “Now tell me why we don’t like the sexy senator again?” she says.

  “He’s just so… so…” I stammer. There is too much vodka swirling around in my brain to avoid words like sexy or tantalizing. How can I explain that I can’t be near him without falling onto his penis which is, no doubt, always ready, and I also can’t stand to watch other women receive the pleasure of his company. And I’m sure there is plenty of pleasure to go around where Jake Chancellor is concerned.

  “So, what?” she prods with an unattractive smirk playing around her mouth. She twirls her glass by the stem while she watches me. It’s really unfortunate when someone knows you so well that they have all of your tells memorized. I know that she knows that I’m full of bullshit. A real friend wouldn’t mention, but Jules is the best so I know she’s about to call me on it.

  “Frustrating.”

  “I hear he’s good at scratching that particular itch too,” she adds with a wicked smile on her face.

  “Not funny.” I toss back the rest of my martini before slicing another piece of cheese and shoving it in my mouth. I love a cheese board. I even make them in the quiet of my own apartment to enjoy while I binge hallmark movies with my cats. I realize now that makes me sound pathetic.

  “I thought it was particularly,” she adds, not at all helpful.

  “I don’t want to watch him parade around all of his… groupies and their sordid tales. I just want to build the Open Arms Center and move on to the next project.”

  “Could you maybe be a bit jealous of the groupies?” she asks me, honing in on my exact problem. I am jealous. I don’t want to watch the parade of his lady of the moment one after another, because he would never choose me, and if he did, it would only be for a night, and that would cut way too deep. I’m strong and firmly self-sufficient, but I’m so attracted to Chancellor that the sting of his rejection would burn too much. And when faced with these truths, I wonder if maybe he’s not as bad as I have always told myself, maybe if given half the chance, I could care for him and that would be even worse.

  “Of course not!”

  “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” she says as she delicately sips her drink while mine is once again, long gone.

  “I do not,” I say adamantly. I will go down with this ship of denial at this point, even if it kills me.

  “Then you’ll be happy to know the gentleman in question is sitting right up front,” she shares, nodding her head to the front of the room behind me.

  “What?” I squeak and nearly choke on an olive.

  “Maybe you should go talk to him, break the ice,” she suggests not at all helpfully.

  “Absolutely not.”

  And thankfully, I am saved by Anthony bringing our dinner to the table so I do not have to argue with Jules any more about Jake Chancellor or anyone else.

  • • •

  “MAYBE WE SHOULD PLAN a trip to go visit Angie,” she says after we’ve settled the check and are preparing to part ways for another two weeks.

  “I would love that. Let’s do it. Maybe after the holidays?”

  “Let’s plan it,” she says as she pulls me into a tight hug. “And I really think he’s not the bad guy you’ve made him out to be in your head.”

  I shoot her the side-eye. “I think you’ve lost your mind. That man has dangerous written all over him.”

  “Hmm,” she hums. “I never said dangerous can’t be fun.”

  “But it’s also not me,” I tell her and that’s the absolute truth. I’m a play it safe kind of a gal. I’ve never been one to leap off a cliff and hope the soft waves below catch me. Maybe that’s why Chancellor bothers me so much. He’s wild and dangerous, like a leopard and I’m nothing but an old house cat. He would be bored with me before the first day was over.

  “That’s true,” she says thoughtfully. “Just see what he has to offer.”

  “Fine. I’ll call his office in the morning,” I promise. I can do that. I’ll talk to an aid in his office and find out if he’s interested in collaborating. All while hoping that he absolutely does not.

  “Fabulous.” She smiles. “Then call me and tel
l me everything.”

  “I will,” I promise, leaning in to hug her again. The thought of a trip with Jules and Angie is perfect, just what I need to set my world right again. I didn’t realize how much I had missed Angie now that she lives halfway across the world until Jules had mentioned seeing her again.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” she says, and then she’s gone.

  I slide my coat on but don’t button it up. It’s too hot in the restaurant, so I leave it open and pick up my clutch. I start walking toward the front door, and that’s when I spot him sitting casually as if he hasn’t a care in the world, sipping a glass of his signature scotch. Everyone knows the Senator loves a glass on the rocks from time to time, but like me, he never overindulges.

  What are the odds that the man who has been driving me crazy is here in the very same restaurant tonight? For a second, I let myself wonder what it would be like if things were different. What if he wasn’t with a different woman every time he steps out in public? What if he really was interested in me? But like I always knew, that’s too many what ifs.

  His two Secret Service agents stand back against the wall, but you could still spot them anywhere. They are anything but covert. I wonder if he ever forgets they are there. Or what they must have heard or seen in their time in service with him. I guess it’s all part of being a United States Senator, and if he is elected to the highest office, there will only be more restrictions on him, more agents to protect him.

  For the first time, I admit that maybe his life isn’t so easy after all. Or maybe that’s just the three martinis talking.

  I watch him slip his phone from his pocket and fire off a text to someone before the waiter brings him a fresh drink. I shake my head to clear the unhealthy thoughts—and any thoughts of Jake Chancellor being a nice guy are unhealthy.

  I start to make my way through the restaurant again when someone from last night stops me to ask me about the Open Arms project.

  “Grace,” he says, breaking me free from my thoughts. “Just who I was talking about.”

  “How are you this evening?” I ask politely and wave at the men he is dining with. These are all prominent businessmen in New York, and I need them and their money to get this project off the ground.

  “Good, good,” they answer. “We were just wondering if you’ve given any more thought to bringing the senator on board?”

  I barely hold in my sigh of frustration and smile. Seriously? It’s only been a day since we spoke, and they want me to abandon all my plans and heel to a certain senator who drives me crazy. But this is my life, this is the life I have built for myself, and I am not going to let anyone—even Jacob Chancellor—chase me away from it. So, I square my shoulders and answer them. “It’s under consideration.”

  “Do consider it,” one of the men says firmly. “I won’t sign on without him.”

  “I do hope we can all come to an agreement on this,” another states.

  “I think time will tell,” I say, trying to extricate myself for this conversation. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late.”

  I move closer and closer to him and hold my breath. I’m hoping he doesn’t notice me and I can move on without being seen.

  “You’ve got my vote,” I overhear the waiter saying to Chancellor.

  “Thank you,” he replies, and it seems genuine. “That means a lot to me.”

  I’m almost to his table now when another prominent businessman stops me to ask about the man at the very top of my “I don’t want to talk about it” list. I feel my frustration at my escape plans being foiled again pull across my face, but I halt it in its tracks. It’s only for a second before I quickly school my features into a serene expression. I’m a fucking professional after all. I really hope he doesn’t notice me.

  But when I look over my shoulder again, I’m not so lucky. The Senator is watching me with open, unguarded interest. He pushes his seat back ever so slightly from the table he is sitting at as if he’s going to stand and greet me like we’re old friends. I know for a fact that he would like to be more than friends, but I’m just not willing to risk it.

  I was planning to keep my focus straight ahead, even if it is more than a little rude, and ignore Jake Chancellor, when the sole of one of my ridiculously tall Louboutins steps on a spoon that someone haphazardly dropped on the floor, and I begin to slide like an ice skater. I recover, or I try to, but the slight tipping of my body tells a different story. I slowly start to tip backward, but Chancellor is right there. He stands up from his chair and catches me as I finally lose my balance. He pulls my body tight to his.

  His right palm lands flat on my ass cheek and burns me through my dress. We both feel a shiver wrack up my spine, and I jerk my body back, but he doesn’t let go of me while his left hand goes to the back of my neck. His fingers slide into the thick mass of my hair, and I love the feel of it there, pulling ever so slightly, more than I ever could have imagined. His face goes into the side of my neck and I barely restrain the rough groan that almost slips from my lips. My head tips back and my eyes slide closed.

  “Are you all right?” he asks after longer than he should have waited to check on me, to release me. He whispers the words in my ear in deliciously low tones, so those at the tables around us can’t hear.

  “Y-y-yes,” I stammer softly.

  He tips his head back and gets a good look at my face. The slight move has me pressing my waist into his impressive erection. I should have known he’d be huge. The world is so unfair, but in this moment, I don’t care. I’m lost. I’m sure my cheeks are flushed a bright pink from my embarrassment. My eyes are bright with… lust? I just don’t know what this feeling is or what I should do with it. And I might be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure my nipples are hard peaks pressed against his dress-shirt-clad chest.

  Now that is unfortunate.

  “You can unhand me now,” I say quietly, but I pack enough steel into my voice—the voice I use in the courtroom—to let him know that playtime is over. For now.

  “Of course,” he replies, letting me hear the interest in his tone. “I’m happy to catch you any time.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I tell him with a smirk playing on my lips. I can’t help but hope he doesn’t notice I have only taken one tiny step back from him.

  “I’m all too happy to be at your service any time,” he adds, smiling his most charming smile, with those stupid dimples and all, and I try hard not to notice that with me it seems more natural and less forced. “All you have to do is call.”

  “We shall see, Senator,” I say. “Have a good night.”

  “You too, Grace.”

  And then I slip by him and walk out into the night. I have the valet hail me a cab, and then I’m gone.

  But what I didn’t know then was that I wouldn’t be gone for long. Later, I would wish I had noticed the plethora of camera flashes that shot all around us from the second I landed in his arms until the cab door closed behind me and I rolled away into the New York night.

  I spent the cab ride back to my apartment still feeling his strong arms around me and his calloused hand on my ass. I played the look of his face over and over in my head, wondering as I did at the time if he was thinking about kissing me like I had thought about kissing him. What I did not feel was a steel cage closing around me. Oh, by tomorrow afternoon, the game would change. I was well and truly caught. I just didn’t know how.

  The trap had been set.

  “Sexy Senator Spotted with Mystery Woman.”

  Chapter 4

  Work, work, work… oh crap

  Today is going to be a beautiful day!

  I reach over to my nightstand and pick up my phone. I slide my finger up the screen to silence my alarm. I’m probably one of very few people who don’t hate Mondays. Mondays are a great start to the week. I like to see my schedule all plotted out and planned. My secretary is a god among men, and what he can do with a spreadsheet and a calendar reminds me that the rest of us are just mere mo
rtals. I’m truly lost without him. Luckily for me, I don’t have to be.

  Also, Carter sees the mission of the greater good. He loves all the cloak-and-dagger shit that goes with running a secret legal aid society using the money I make from our high-profile clients, not to mention Jules kicks in a bunch of her old family money when no one is looking while she rules the air waves as one of the nation’s leading anchors for Eagle News Network. He has likened us to Clark Kent and Lois Lane. I’m Clark.

  The silly code names Carter has monikered for us always make me smile, and that is exactly what I’m doing now as I throw back the covers and make my way into the kitchen to feed my tiny furry army. All eight of my little loves hustle into the kitchen and wait in their spots for breakfast when they hear the telltale signs of me moving in the morning. I turn my Keurig on before I pull their bowls from the cabinet and dish up their grub. Everyone is silent this morning as we are back to our early morning routine.

  I quickly brew a cup of coffee and make my way back to my bathroom to get ready for the day. I strip off my pajamas and turn the taps in my shower to heat up the water before stepping into the tub with my coffee cup in hand. Time is of the essence!

  By the time I finish washing, my coffee is also gone. I turn off the water and grab a towel. I wrap it around my body while I brush and dry my hair with a round brush before styling it in a sleek ballet bun on top of my head. I hang my towel back up on the rack before brushing my teeth and applying a light amount of makeup for a classic look. I smile at myself in the mirror. Last night, Jules helped me realize I need to put my personal feelings for Senator Chancellor aside and do the right thing for Open Arms. And it does feel right. After work, I’m going to contact his office and ask them to put my project on his desk.

  I make my way into my closet and suit up in my uniform of the day—Chanel and Louboutin. I put a classic watch on my wrist and small diamond studs in my ears before heading out for the day. Again, the elevator arrives with a ding as I hit the call button, and when I step out the front door of my building, a cab magically appears as soon as I lift my hand in the air in that age-old signal that is bred into all New Yorkers.