Fixer: A Bad Boy Romance

by Samantha Westlake

  "Yes, I'm sure," Tanner reiterated after a second more of listening to Duecent's whining. "Look, this is your damn job. I've got other appointments and meetings to attend to. If you can't step in and run your own senator's campaign for a single day, well, she ought to fire your ass and ship you straight back to whatever hobo camp in Colorado she searched to first find you."

  This, of course, set off a whole new tirade from Duecent. Tanner listened for a few seconds, established that there wasn't anything of importance in the rant, and then hung up on him.

  There. Now, at least, Alicia wouldn't be wondering why he wasn't around. Tanner gulped down the last of his espresso, tossed the cup in his sink to deal with later, and turned to his laptop, sitting on his dining table.

  He had a list of names, about half a dozen different senators. These, Tanner knew, were the men he'd need to flip in order to kill Alicia's education bill.

  He barely got any sleep last night, but that was okay, because he'd put the wakefulness to good use in working on this list. These half a dozen senators sat on enough committees, held enough influence and seniority, to convince most of their peers to fall in line and vote the same way.

  And furthermore, Tanner knew that he could convince every name on his list.

  Some of them would agree right away with him. These were the dyed in the wool Republicans, those who put fiscal responsibility up on a pillar and knelt down to worship it. They'd likely oppose the education bill anyway, if left to their own devices, just because of the potential cost to the American taxpayer. Still, Alicia had talked about converting some of them by offering them projects specific to their state, and Tanner needed to make sure that they didn't rise to the bait.

  Others on his list would prove more difficult. Some of these were staunch Democrats, ones that Tanner had crossed paths with in the past. Fortunately for his side, he still had much of the material he'd used to originally convince these senators to take his side - and he suspected that, in exchange for a promise to destroy the copies he held, they'd be willing to compromise their integrity for this bill.

  If all else failed, Tanner could always fall back on the old trick of convincing a senator that he already had enough support to kill the bill. If there was one thing that senators hated to do in their voting record, it was to show a track record of supporting failed legislation. If the bill was already dead, there wasn't much of a reason for them to still try and support it by voting in favor - and it lent more material to their opponents when they next ran for re-election.

  Tanner didn't doubt that he'd be able to convince every name on his list to turn his vote against this education bill. He still hesitated, however, knowing the true hidden cost of carrying out his visits to their offices.

  If he killed this bill, that put his relationship with Alicia in the ground. She'd never forgive him, likely refuse to ever see him again - except perhaps to splatter him against the windshield of his car, he thought with a twinge of black humor.

  But he didn't have any other choice. His whole future was riding on how this bill turned out, on seeing it fail.

  He had to carry out his duty.

  Tanner emailed the list to himself so he could pull it up on his phone, even though he'd already committed the names to memory. He left his apartment, striding off to Capitol Hill, off to go make the first of his meetings.

  Meeting by meeting, Tanner worked his way through the day. He tossed back several more coffees in order to keep up his energy, using the caffeine to fight off the growing sadness that kept creeping into his chest. His heart felt like a stone, but he kept a broad and confident smile on his face, assuring the senators that he knew what their best course of action for the future would be.

  One by one, he counted up the votes against Alicia's education bill. Some of the senators promised that they could also sway others in their voting bloc; others made no such promises, but Tanner knew that they'd exert an influence nonetheless. In some of his later meetings, he even dropped the names of senators from early meetings as evidence that this bill was destined to fail. Find one crack, apply the right pressure, and it could be widened until the entire institution came crumbling down.

  It wasn't until Tanner's last meeting of the day that the man across the desk from him, Senator Vinter, brought up the point that Tanner had been hoping desperately to avoid.

  "See, Tanner, I'm inclined to listen to you," the Louisiana Senator said, leaning back in his chair and linking his fingers behind his head. "I know that, most of the time when you happen to show up in my office, you talk good sense."

  "Thank you," Tanner replied, sensing a "but" coming next.

  "But see, here's the thing," Vinter went on, just as Tanner had anticipated. "Weren't you just in here a few days ago with that cute little thing-" the senator pronounced it as 'thang', "-arguing for the opposite point? Wantin' me to vote for this bill instead?"

  Tanner took a breath, telling himself that he'd been expecting this question all day. "Indeed, yes, I was," he answered, not pausing to give Vinter a chance to dig further. "But this is all part of a larger plan. The bill needed to gain momentum before being brought crumbling back down." He sat back, hoping that Vinter wouldn't ask anything further.

  No such luck. The furrow on the Senator's forehead grew deeper. "See, now, you've lost me. I might be just a simple Louisiana man-"

  Tanner carefully kept his face blank. David Vinter was a lawyer with his own practice and had been previously employed as a professor of law. He was the furthest thing from a "simple Louisiana man" possible, despite the folksy image that his campaign advertisements - many of them partially funded by the RNC - conveyed.

  "-but I'm not sure I really follow this twisted logic that you're trying to sell me on here." Vinter, still leaning back, looked expectantly at Tanner as he waited for a response.

  "Of course, Senator," Tanner said as the wheels spun furiously in his brain. "See, the big target that we've got in sight isn't just this education bill, damaging as it would turn out. We've got our eyes set on a bigger goal."

  "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

  Inside his head, Tanner winced. Even though Alicia wasn't in earshot, saying these words aloud felt like a complete betrayal of her. He'd been hammering nails into her coffin all day, but this might be the final blow.

  "Senator Stone, that 'cute little thing' you mentioned earlier," he answered, and sat back as the Senator digested this information.

  "Ah, I think I see," Vinter exclaimed, the Deep South drawl in his voice growing a little thicker as he sat forward. "You're looking to show her up, aren't you? Get some egg on her face, is that it?"

  "Yes, that's it precisely," Tanner nodded. "Brand new, barely even got her own office set up, and she's already looking to topple the whole anthill. We can't let her keep running rampant. Even if we kill this first bill, she'll have another, and another - a whole agenda. And I'm sure that you've heard the rumors about her."

  Vinter, of course, hadn't heard any such rumors. If Tanner hadn't heard the rumors about Alicia Stone being a potential future presidential candidate, there's no way that they would have trickled all the way down to Vinter's ears. But Tanner knew that the man would hate the thought of appearing ignorant.

  "Course, of course," VInter nodded, putting on an appallingly fake expression of knowing. Tanner wondered, not for the first time, how these dullards managed to keep on getting re-elected. "But just to be sure we're on the same page-"

  Tanner wasn't going to waste any more time on this. "If we don't want her to become a constant thorn in our side, we need to make sure that she doesn't pull off a big platform, especially in her first term," he repeated forcefully. "And that's why I need your promise that, when this education bill comes to the floor, you'll stand up firmly in opposition."

  Tanner carefully didn't mention any sort of threat. He didn't suggest that the RNC might change the amount of money that it poured into Senator Vinter's re-election campaigns, depending upon how he chose
to vote on this issue. He just smiled, kept his tone light and pleasant, and let the silence speak volumes for him.

  "Right, naturally," Vinter quickly promised. Dullard or not, the man knew when he needed to say the right thing in order to not lose the support of the hand that fed him - or rather, fed his campaign and kept him here in cushy, comfortable Washington, DC, instead of sweltering back in the swamps of Louisiana.

  "Good." Tanner pushed back his chair, stood up. Vinter also climbed to his feet, but Tanner saw a little furrow reappear on the man's forehead as he gave Tanner's hand a parting shake.

  "I gather that Little Miss Stone isn't going to take this well, is she?" he chuckled. "Thinkin' that she's got all this support, and then having it all pulled out from under her feet, like that magician's trick with the tablecloth and all the wine glasses. She's gonna be mighty steamed over this one."

  Tanner felt a new dagger pierce his heart at the man's words. Alicia would be more than just steamed; she'd be crushed. She'd gotten the support from so many, promises, and she'd quickly find out that all of those words weren't worth the air used to shape them.

  Fighting to keep his face blank and neutral might have been one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

  "Afraid that's just the way that Washington works," he said blandly, giving a little shrug with one shoulder. "She'll need to learn that, sooner rather than later."

  "As we know, that's the truth," Vinter added, grinning with petty satisfaction at seeing one of his fellow Senators from across the aisle take a tumble. "Pity - but even if she doesn't get that re-election she needs, at least she'll have no shortage of job opportunities, with a cute little face and body like she's got!"

  Tanner's hand tightened unconsciously into a fist, and he ached to just slug Vinter in the face, hard as he could manage. But instead, swallowing that bitter anger, he nodded, and headed out of the Senator's office.

  There, he thought to himself, taking a moment to lean against the hallway of the Capitol building. That would be more than enough votes to kill the education bill.

  He'd done his job. Simple as that. No need to even work outside of the system; he just called in the favors that others owed him, put on a little bit of pressure when necessary, and achieved his objective in just a day.

  The bill was set to be called to a vote tomorrow. Tanner just had to wait for a little over twelve hours, watch the bill die on the floor of the Senate.

  He needed, he resolved, to spend as much of the time between now and the vote as possible at someplace where he could keep a full glass of liquor in his hand.

  Heart feeling like it was made of stone - and had just taken a direct hit from a sledgehammer - Tanner headed off to get drunk.

  Chapter Twenty

  *

  Tanner looked down at the drink in his hand, noting that he could still make out the details of the fractures in the ice cube, the little droplets of amber that clung to the inside of the smooth glass when he swirled the liquid. Grimacing, he threw the remaining contents back in a single gulp, gritting his teeth as the fiery liquid burned its passage down his throat.

  "Another - and you'd best keep them coming," he called out to the waiter, not caring that she was halfway across the club's drinking room. Several other patrons turned and directed glares at him, but Tanner barely even noticed that he wasn't alone in the room.

  He'd picked the American Tap Room, an upscale establishment that featured back-lit menus and plenty of wing-back leather chairs where someone could settle in and clear their thoughts, aided by the buzz from a good scotch or pub ale. The place was a big Republican hangout, but didn't usually attract the big hitters until later in the evening - just what Tanner wanted. He didn't intend to still be around by that point.

  Arriving fairly early in the afternoon, he found the place still largely empty, and quickly dropped himself down into a chair. Two waiters had come buzzing over to take his order, and he sent each of them away with a request for scotch.

  Pulling out his phone, Tanner sent a message to Freddie to tell him of his current location, although he doubted that Freddie would see that text for at least a couple of hours. Freddie's job tended to let him out late, one of the reasons why they met more often for drinks than for dinner.

  Still, that would give Tanner a good head start on the drinking. By the time that Freddie showed up, Tanner intended to be at least wobbling on his feet, if not totally blitzed.

  Of course, that would go quicker if these damn waiters would hurry up in keeping his drink full! Tanner leaned forward in his chair, pulling himself up with a hand on the arm of the leather seat. Where the hell was his next drink?

  He shouldn't feel this irritable, he told himself - although the very thought only sent another spike of anger coursing through him. After all, he'd succeeded in his job.

  Before starting to throw back gulps of scotch, Tanner made sure to dial Rich Pribus, passing on the news that the bill was going down in flames.

  "And you're sure about this," Pribus demanded, his tone making the response more of a statement than a question. "Because if this thing passes-"

  "Trust me, it won't," Tanner cut him off, sighing and not in the mood to be interrogated. "Look, I've got bipartisan opposition, from both sides of the aisle. Senior members on both sides. I know the right buttons to push to turn popular sentiment against a bill. The thing doesn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell."

  "Well, good, assuming that nothing goes wrong," Pribus commented after another minute, still sounding a little nervous and not fully convinced of Tanner's skills. "I'll be watching tomorrow when this thing gets called up."

  "Right," Tanner said absently, looking around for his drink.

  Pribus paused for a moment, but didn't yet hang up. "Look, Tanner, this is good work, even if I've been putting pressure on you," he said in slightly gentler tones. "This is the kind of work that no one else can pull off, not nearly as well as you can handle it. We really appreciate this kind of help. I'll make sure that you're properly thanked for supporting us in this."

  "Yeah, right," Tanner repeated, not really caring about whatever Pribus could do to thank him.

  Another silence, just a little too long. "Tanner, if you don't mind my asking, what are your long-term plans?" Pribus finally asked.

  "Long term plans?" Tanner repeated, sitting up a little as the waiter finally came over with his first drink. He threw it back fast enough to hand the empty glass off to the surprised man before he could leave, swinging one finger around the lip in a gesture for another.

  "Yes. Ever thought about more of a leadership position? Something that's a little more removed from the dirty work, so to say?"

  Tanner really hadn't devoted too much thought to his future, and especially didn't want to talk about it now. "Not particularly."

  "Right." Pribus was definitely out of his depth here, but he kept on pushing forward. "Well, when you do want to have that conversation, think about a next step, you just let me know. There are plenty of spots in the RNC where I think that your talents could really help you out."

  "Great." Before Pribus could try and act any more like a surrogate father figure, Tanner hung up, dropping the phone back into his pocket. Since he'd killed the education bill as Pribus requested, he wouldn't get much flak for hanging up on the head of the RNC.

  And right now, he wanted to focus only on turning his brain off as quickly as possible, using alcohol to flip that switch.

  The waiter came back a bit more rapidly this time with his refill, perhaps sensing that Tanner was serious about drinking - or, alternatively, sensing that he'd be able to collect a nice tip on a big bill if Tanner kept on slugging back scotch at this rate. Tanner accepted the glass, drank half of it, glared at the remainder.

  Why did he feel so upset? Of course, he knew that the sting of losing Alicia would be painful at first. But he'd move past her, just like he'd done for dozens, maybe even hundreds of women. They came and went, always another one to make him forget about th
e previous, a parade of new bodies for him to conquer in his bed.

  Aside from being the first Senator to climb into his bed, there wasn't anything special about Alicia. Sure, she had a tight body, but so did thousands of other girls. She wasn't the most well endowed girl, wasn't the skinniest, wasn't the shapeliest, and probably wasn't even the smartest - one time, Tanner had managed to convince a visiting Swedish particle physicist to peel off her panties and let him slip his cock inside her little trimmed blonde bush while on a weekend visit to DC from the United Nations building.

  No, he insisted to himself, there wasn't anything special about Alicia. Sure, she'd seen through him from the very beginning, and her wry humor never failed to put a smile on his face. Sure, she fucked like a wildcat, with a sex drive that managed to keep pace with his own - a rare commodity among most women. He loved the way her eyes sparkled up at him, how those big turquoise irises could convey warmth, amusement, or raw sexual heat. Even now, closing his eyes, he could picture her lying in his bed, naked except for his bedsheet draped artfully around her curves, her eyes banked after their previous sexual session but still eager for him to come join her for round two...

  Tanner growled at himself, shaking his head, nearly spilling his drink on himself. He needed to stop thinking about her, not dwell on all the nights that they'd spent together! All of this obsessing wasn't going to help him move past her.

  In fact, it was probably making things worse. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could almost convince himself that he heard her voice from the entrance to the American Tap Room, over his shoulder...

  Wait. That wasn't just his imagination.

  Tanner sat up in shock, this time not managing to keep his drink from slopping over the side and splashing across one knee of his suit as he craned around. Sure enough, he wasn't having some sort of bad dream - there was Alicia, standing just inside of the entrance to the restaurant and looking around expectantly!