by Peak, Renna
"Call me Will. I hate William. What about you? Can I call you Jen? Jenny?" He lifted an eyebrow in my direction.
The urge to roll my eyes or say any number of impolite things nagged at me. I gritted my teeth to keep them at bay. "Jenna is fine." There was no way I was going to let him call me Jen. I thought I'd probably never let anyone call me that again.
He lifted a shoulder with a dismissive shrug and took a swig of his drink. "So, Jenna." He hit the 'Jenna' way too hard. "Our mothers are thinking an August wedding. That gonna work for you?"
I choked on my sake mid-sip. I set the glass down and coughed. I turned to look at him. "Was that a proposal?"
"It wasn't anything. It was just a question."
I coughed again and reached for my water glass. I took a sip and set the glass back down. I tried to calm myself; I wanted to reach over and strangle the guy, but I was pretty sure that his neck was too thick to succumb to a strangling. I forced a sweet smile to my face, the same demure smile my mother had taught me years ago. "I haven't really had time to think about it, Will. I was just told about the current plan five minutes ago."
He knocked back the rest of his drink in a gulp and banged the cup on the table. He mocked me with his own phony, sweet smile. "Well, sweetheart, it isn't like I had a choice in it either." He stood up and walked to the door of the dining room and motioned the waiter back over. He returned to the cushion next to mine and dropped back to the floor. "This sitting on the floor thing is bullshit. I'm going to have the waiter bring chairs in when he gets here with my drink."
I raised an eyebrow to myself and took a large sip from my drink. I willed the alcohol to kick in before I killed the man or said anything I knew I'd regret. I decided to just stay silent rather than risk it.
The waiter returned with another drink for Will. There was a brief exchange about bringing in chairs, which the waiter did a moment later. I let him take his chair and I stayed on the floor, sipping my drink and playing with my food.
We sat like that for several minutes with Will in a chair against the wall and me sitting on the floor at the table. He was the one that broke the silence. "Christ, just get up and sit in the chair like a fucking human being."
I swiveled my body to meet his gaze, my mouth twisting in frustration. His look was a mixture of anger and disgust. It reminded me a lot of my mother, and I was damned sure I wouldn't be able to put up with that for the rest of my life. I stood up and smoothed my dress down and walked over the chair next to his. I sat down with as much grace as I was able to and crossed my legs at the ankle, bending my legs back. I tried to be as ladylike as possible. I forced that demure smile to my lips again.
"That's better." He rolled his eyes. "Christ, I don't need you acting like a bitch. It's not like any of this was my idea."
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I'm being a bitch?"
He snorted. "Yeah, that's what I'd call it." He stood and grabbed his drink from the table before returning to his seat. "Look, none of this was my idea. I'm not any happier about it than you are."
I gave a slow nod and pursed my lips, giving careful consideration to his words. All I could think was that if he thought I was being a bitch now, we were going to have a lot of problems if he ever saw me at my finest.
He tapped his fingers against his glass. "So, August, after the straw poll. That's what our mothers want." He gave me a look that told me he wondered if I was too stupid to understand.
"Oh." I had nothing else to offer without sounding bitchy. Or looking too dumb.
"Why does your father care so much about that idiotic straw poll, anyway? It isn't like it means anything."
I pulled my shoulders up into the tiniest, least bitchy shrug I could. "I have no idea. I just learned about his plans tonight."
He took a swig from his glass. "It's a stupid plan, putting that much weight on a straw poll that doesn't mean anything."
I gave a minuscule nod. "I haven't discussed strategy with him, so I couldn't tell you."
He rolled his eyes and his upper lip curled into a sneer. "Christ's sake, you're mouthy too, aren't you?" He shook his head and drank the rest of his drink in a large swig. He narrowed his eyes and gave me a frank look. "I don't put up with mouthiness or bitchiness. Are we clear?"
"About what?" A wave of nausea came over me. It sounded an awful lot like he was threatening me.
"That I don't put up with mouthy bitches. Something about that you don't understand? You need me to explain it to you?"
My eyes widened and I tilted my head toward him. "Well, Will, I don't put up with douche bag…" My response was interrupted by the entry of our fathers into our dining area.
My father beamed at me again. "I'm glad to see you two are getting to know each other." He clasped his hands in front of him and waved them together like he had just won a prize. "This is going to be fantastic." His eyes darted between the two of us.
I stood up from my chair, a bit disappointed that I didn't get to finish my diatribe before my dad walked in. God knew I was going to finish it sooner or later; there was no way in hell I'd put up with him talking to me like that. I forced a smile to my face for my father's sake. "I'm getting pretty tired, dad. I'd like to go home now."
My father nodded at me and smiled, a slight look of concern coming to his face. "Of course. You two will have plenty of time together over the next few months."
I looked down at my new fiance and gave him a sneer of my own that I turned into a disgusted smile. "I can't wait."
3
The town car dropped me off at my apartment after the disastrous dinner. I was dying to talk to my best friend, Mel, and tell her about our new jobs and about the man my parents wanted me to marry.
My two guards walked me up to the apartment and remained outside the door. Mel was sitting in her favorite spot, splayed out on the couch with a book propped up on her knees.
She sat up as soon as I entered. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me and a grin lit up her entire face. "Well, did you ask him about working for the campaign?"
I returned her smile and took a seat in the chair across from her. "Nope." I let the sound pop from my mouth.
The smile fell away from her face. "No? Why not?" The look of disappointment was almost heartbreaking.
I felt a little bad about toying with her. My grin widened. "Because he asked me first."
The smile returned to her face, even bigger than before. "Really? So we're going to Florida to campaign?" She stood up. "I need to find my bikini."
I motioned for her to sit back down. "Not Florida."
She sank back into the cushions of the sofa. "Not Florida? Somewhere with a beach, though, right?" She bit at her bottom lip, giving me a hopeful look.
I gritted my teeth together and hoped I wouldn't disappoint her too much. "No, not exactly. We're going to Iowa." I saw the look of disappointment deepen. "I'm sure there are places to swim there." I smiled at her, hopeful.
Her face fell. "Iowa," she repeated. She chewed her inner cheek for a moment. "Not exactly what I had in mind, Jenna."
I forced another smile for her. "I know. But it's only until August, after the straw poll."
"And then we can go somewhere else, right?" She sighed and leaned back into the cushions, shaking her head. "Iowa. Crap." She sighed.
I plastered another phony smile across my face. "Uh, there's more."
"More?" She pulled her body forward and rested her elbows on her knees. I saw the hopeful sparkle return to her eyes. "What more?"
I looked down at my fingers and studied my nails before returning my gaze to hers, forcing my lips to turn up into a small smile. "Do you know William Howard?"
She gave me a short shrug. "Never heard of him."
I nodded, unsurprised. "He's a state rep from Iowa. He's going to be campaigning with us."
She gave a loud groan. "Ugh, I can see where this is going already. This is the new guy your parents are fixing you up with? Is he cute at least?"
I look
ed back down at my nails again. "He certainly seems to think so." I looked back up at her with a weak smile.
A look of horror crossed her face. "You met him?"
I nodded and chewed on my lips. "My father invited him to dinner. Will hates Japanese food. Just so you know."
She looked amused. "Oh? Unlike your last arranged marriage who actually was Japanese?" She suppressed a giggle.
"Funny." I gave her a serious look. "He also thinks I'm a mouthy bitch."
Her eyes widened in shock. "What! Where the hell did that come from?"
I nodded again. "Yep, I'm apparently a mouthy bitch that he won't be putting up with."
She fluttered her lashes in amazement. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
I gave another brief shrug and returned my stare to my fingernails. Meeting her gaze would have pushed me over the edge to tears. "Your guess is as good as mine. I was about to read him the riot act, but my dad came back in the room."
She shook her head from side to side and looked like she might cry herself. "Aww, fuck no. That's no good, Jenna."
I bit at my bottom lip again. "I know." I looked at my fingernails again, unable to meet her gaze. Looking at her would mean admitting I knew what I had to do.
"You have to tell your dad. He won't make you go through with it with someone like that. What's the guy gonna do? Beat you?"
I shrugged my shoulders up again. "That's kind of how it sounded."
"That's bullshit, Jenna. I'll talk to your dad if you won't."
I sighed and looked back at her. My mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Like you'd be able to influence his decisions."
She shrugged and gave me a grin. "Well, we mouthy bitches have to stick together."
I managed to choke out a laugh, despite how nauseous the thought of another arranged marriage was to me. "I guess so."
"Damned straight." She stamped her foot on the ground and stood up again. She reached out to me and pulled me to my feet. "So what's my job going to be? Secretary to the Senator? Or to your new dick head fiance?"
I gave another small shrug. "We didn't really get that far. I think you're just going to help me get to my appointments on time."
"Ohhhhh." She gave me a knowing nod. "So I'm your secretary." She elbowed me in the arm and grinned like a Cheshire cat. "That should be fun." She walked over to our little kitchen, just a few steps away.
"I didn't say that." I followed her over and stood at the counter separating the kitchen from the dining area. "I didn't get a lot of details. This is all happening so fast."
She nodded and pulled a bottle of wine from the cupboard, then reached into a drawer for a corkscrew. "I guess anything is better than San Francisco for the moment. I just need to get away from here." She shook her head and went to work on opening the bottle.
"I know, and I'm so sorry I lost us our jobs. I was such an idiot." I sat down on one of the bar stools. "I can still try to get my dad to talk to yours…"
She cut me off with a wave of her hand. She poured some wine into two plastic cups and slid one across to me. She lifted her cup to me in a toast. "To new beginnings."
I lifted my glass and took a sip of the wine and made a face. "Ugh, nothing like cheap, warm wine."
She grinned. "That's the best kind." She drank the contents of her cup and poured another for herself. "This is going to be good for both of us, Jenna. I can feel it." She took another sip of her wine. "And there's no way you're going to marry some douche bag who wants to keep you quiet. It'll be better for him to have to put up with both of us for the summer."
I couldn't argue with that.
4
The next morning, I asked the town car to leave a little early before we headed up to Sacramento for my father's announcement. There was somewhere else I knew I needed to go first.
I had the car stop in front of a coffee shop that I had been to a few times. I walked out of the car with one of my guards following close behind me. Mark always followed just a little too close—I thought I could smell his breath behind me. Coffee and bacon, I was sure he must have had both for breakfast. I walked the few steps into the restaurant and stood in line. He followed right behind me, nipping at my heels.
He leaned his head in toward me; his voice lowered. "Miss Davis, there are a lot of coffee shops on the way to Sacramento. I don't really think we need to be at this one." His gaze darted around the restaurant, like he was weighing the possibility of me being in danger.
I turned around and smiled at him. "You're probably right. Let me just use the bathroom and we can go drive through a Starbucks."
A look of relief swept over his face and he nodded me toward the back of the store where the restrooms were.
I walked with confidence to the door of the women's restroom. Mark had stopped at the end of the narrow hallway and hadn't followed me all the way back to the door. I'm still not sure how I managed it, but instead of going into the women's restroom, I went out the nearby back door of the restaurant.
I hurried around the corner to go to the building next door. I knew I'd need to be quick or the entire Secret Service would be out looking for me within a matter of minutes.
I went up to the floor where Brandon's apartment was located. I wasn't even sure if he'd be there—it had only been a few days since he'd been in Hawaii with me. I just knew I had to take the chance before everything changed.
I looked up and down the hall before rapping my knuckles on his door. I picked at my fingernails and gave my lips a nervous chewing while I waited for him to answer.
"What now? Haven't you asked me for enough?" I heard him bellow through the door.
I cringed and wondered whether I'd made a huge mistake. What had I asked him for? I bit again at my upper lip and knocked again, softer this time, then looked back over my shoulder to see if my guard had found me yet. For all I knew, he might have had a location tag on me.
He opened the door with a start; it swung on the hinge and the knob hit the opposite wall.
I jumped, startled and gulped hard. It only took a moment for the jittery feeling to melt away. Just seeing Brandon brought such a sense of relief to me, like I knew everything would be okay. I was overwhelmed with how much I wanted to be near him. I wanted to throw myself at him, wrap my legs around him. I just wanted to touch him, to feel his body next to mine again. The butterflies that seemed to always be in my stomach around him fluttered without mercy. I could feel my eyes sparkle as his gaze finally met mine; the attraction pulsing between us. I wanted him more than anything I had ever wanted.
The stern look on his face melted away and he almost smiled. He looked into my eyes for a long moment, drinking me in. His eyes then dropped lower taking in my whole body. He stepped closer to me, his body almost touching mine, and peered over my shoulder and out the door. His voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Where's your guard?"
Electricity pulsed through me when his chest grazed mine. It was all I could do not to grab him around the waist and pull him into me. My lips twitched up into a smile. "I ditched him at the coffee shop. Aren't you going to invite me in?" I looked back over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, too. There was no sign of Mark. My voice lowered. "Please?"
He stepped to the side and allowed me into the apartment, closing the door behind me. He turned his back and walked toward some boxes that were on the dining room table. "You shouldn't be here, Jen." He said it in such a matter-of-fact way that it caught me off guard.
My brow furrowed with disappointment. I thought he would have been happy to see me. "I needed to see you." I took a step toward him. "I needed it."
He kept his back turned to me, but I could see him shake his head. "I should have said you can't be here."
"Well I am here." I took another step toward him.
He turned around and I could see he was startled by how close I was to him. He backed away from me, bumping into one of the chairs that surrounded the table. A veil of sadness hooded his eyes. He reached back and grabbe
d the table. "I'm leaving, Jen. And so should you." He turned and picked up one of the boxes from the table.
I took another step toward him. "Where are you going?" I lifted an eyebrow at him. I couldn't understand his cold response.
"Not important. This isn't my place, anyway. It was a short term rental while I waited for my grandmother…" He trailed off. "I'm leaving today. So are you." I could see the fear in his eyes, as though someone was watching.
"Your grandmother. She was at the hospice." I finally understood why he had been there, but I didn’t understand why he hadn’t been able to tell me. "Where are you going to go?"
He shook his head. "Not important." He backed around me with the box in front of him, almost like it could protect him. "Walk with me." He motioned with his head toward the door.
I opened the door for him and we walked down the hall to the elevator. We entered and he pressed the button for the ground floor. We stood in the elevator in silence. He pressed the button to stop when we were between the second and first floors and turned to me. "Jen, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do." He set the box on the floor. “You need to know that.”
I took a step toward him and he backed away toward the wall, almost as though he was afraid of me, afraid to touch me. "Then don't."
He shook his head at me and I could see the sadness that hung over his body. And it wasn’t just sadness; there was something else. Fear.
"Brandon, just tell me what's going on. Please?" I felt the tears begin to sting at my eyes. He couldn't sentence me to a life with the jerk from Iowa. He just couldn't. Why couldn’t he see that I was here because I wanted him? Because I had made my choice—and it was him.
He chewed at his bottom lip, averting his gaze away from mine and his face softened a moment later. He took a step toward me and reached out and touched my hair.
A thrill of electricity ran through my body when his hand grazed my cheek. "Brandon…" My voice lowered to a whisper. "Please." I hated begging him. I hated it, but I wanted him, needed him. I couldn't understand why he couldn't see it. Why he wouldn't acknowledge me at all.
