Renegade

by Jeanne McDonald

  This asshole was serious!

  My perfected persona dropped. It was a rare person who could cause me to break my polished demeanor, but somehow, Jack Gamble had managed it.

  “Listen here, buddy, I don’t know who you think you are…”

  Just as I was about to tell this prick what I really thought of his offer, my cell phone started playing the Star-Spangled Banner and flashing the name Guy Harper across the screen.

  Saved by the bell, dickwad!

  “Hold that thought.” I paused and took in a deep breath. “I need to take this.”

  Without giving Jack a chance to respond, I grabbed the phone from the table, slid my finger across the screen, and answered, “McNeal.”

  “My, my. So professional,” came Harper’s jovial tone.

  “How can I help you?”

  “Oh, right. I forgot. Tonight’s date night! I take it’s not going very well.” Harper’s chuckle only added to my bad mood. He was taking too much pleasure in my torture.

  “You might say that.”

  “Wow! This guy must really be a doozy.” Harper chuckled low.

  I glanced up at my date. A look of frustration brightened his tanned skin. Served him right after insulting me like he did.

  “You don’t know the half of it…”

  “Well, then, ditch him, Bet, and get over here. We have business to discuss.”

  Harper and I had known each other since high school. He was my ex-husband’s best man and Jordyn’s godfather. It was safe to say, he was pretty much family. I trusted Harper with just about everything, which was saying a lot. Trust was a high commodity in politics, and was never given freely. While I worked my way through college, Harper coasted through life on his family’s dime. He came from a long line of old money, but no one would suspect it if they’d seen him on the street. When I entered the realm of politics, he joined me by donating to campaigns for many of my most promising candidates. He always said his donations weren’t wagers on the candidates, but on me, because I was the safe bet. Hence, the nickname. Over the years, he’d developed a good eye for finding the right person for the job, so when he said we needed to talk business, I knew exactly what he meant.

  I didn’t have to look up this time to know I was being stared down by the man across the table. Frankly, I didn’t care. Harper had given me the out I needed. “I’ll be there in forty minutes or so.”

  “Perfect. See ya then.”

  I ended the call and slipped my phone into my clutch.

  “So that’s it? I try to help you by offering my services and you’re going to give me the brush off?” Jack sneered.

  My eyes jolted up to meet his death stare. I stood up and leaned over the table, coming nose to nose with him. “My dear, Jack, your services are not necessary.”

  “I beg to differ. Not only do you need some work on those crow’s feet, but I can help you get rid of those extra ten pounds you can’t seem to run off in the gym.” His mouth bowed and his thick brows lifted as if he’d actually one-upped me.

  He didn’t.

  I took in a deep, cleansing breath and plastered a smile on my face. “I’ll have you know I look damn good for my age. Now, if you’re interested in spending your time with a twenty-year-old blonde bimbo, go find one, but don’t you dare try to Dr. Frankenstein a woman to meet your stereotypical idea of perfection.”

  “At least a twenty-year-old woman would know how to be engaging on a date. She’d listen to me.”

  “Jack, if you’d had anything interesting to say, I might’ve listened to you.” I let out a half-hearted laugh. “But from what I did hear, I can tell you this. You and I are on the same side of the coin. We both tell people how to look, but the difference between us is I tell them how to act. So, the next time you try to tell a woman how she should look or what standard she should try to achieve, think of me and what I do. Because no matter how pretty you make her, she’ll never be what I turn my clients into. You see, Jack, I create power.” I moved in a little closer to him. “I create legends…” I paused for dramatic effect, “I create gods!”

  I reached into my purse, pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and dropped it on the table. “Don’t say I never paid for your services.” I dusted my hand over his shoulder, pretending to remove lint from his jacket. “It was nice meeting you, Jack.”

  With a flick of my blonde locks, I grabbed my belongings and started to walk away. “Oh, and Jack,” I called out without so much as a glance back to see the baffled expression on his smug face, “the next time you want to implant something, how about you implant some brains in that head of yours, because you’re thinking with the wrong one, buddy.”

  Throes of laughter reverberated behind me as I slipped into my frock coat and exited the building with my pride intact.