The Hot Gamer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #3)

by Alexa Davis

  "No, I didn't say that," she said then grinned, "But we are really just kind of a friends with benefits thing anyway."

  "God, Mo, you are one hell of a lady," I laughed.

  "My point is that if Brant had not taken the initiative to let me know what he was feeling, then I never would have even considered taking a chance because it wouldn't have been an option," she said triumphantly. "And if there's anything I've learned in my sixty-five years on this earth, it's that you will always regret the chances you didn't take, but very rarely will you regret the ones you did."

  "So, I should just bare my soul to Olivia and tell her she's my one true love?" I said dryly.

  "No, silly, but you do need to say more than 'call me back at your earliest convenience!' What the hell kind of message is that?" she muttered. "You need to ask her out on a real date and impress the hell out of her. You can do that, you've got all the money in the world!"

  "She's not impressed by money. She's made that incredibly clear."

  "Then use your money to plan an unpretentious date that will dazzle her," Mo said. "You've got an imagination; look at what you've done thus far. Now put it to good use and woo the girl!"

  "Mo, I think you're getting drunk," I laughed as I listened to her rattle off a list of possible dates that all seemed over the top to me, but it got me thinking.

  "I believe I might be, so let's have a little dinner. Shall we?" she said as she tried to push herself up off of the couch with one hand. I took her martini glass and helped her up. Together, we went into the kitchen and pulled together dinner out of the bags of groceries the over-tipped boys had left on the counter.

  We sat down at the kitchen table and talked about all of the dates I might plan for Olivia as we ate and laughed. After we'd finished, we cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher together, laughing about the old days when my parents had claimed that they'd had a child simply so that they'd always have someone to set the table and clean up after the meal was done. Mo told me about how my mother had called her the first time I'd refused to do either and wanted to know what she should do with the sullen boy I'd become at thirteen.

  "I told her to send you to military school," Mo grinned.

  "You did not," I laughed. "Did you?"

  "Did too," she grinned. Then suddenly, she grabbed my shoulders, shook me lightly, and said, "Lincoln, you can't live for your company. It's an honorable thing you've done to try and right a terrible wrong and avenge a loss, but to continue to make that the center of your world is causing you to miss out on so many other things. Please, my darling boy, do not miss this chance to fall in love."

  I nodded solemnly, even though on the inside, my stomach was churning. Love? Who said anything about love?

  #

  I thought about what Mo had said all night; the next morning, I called my florist and ordered a big, beautiful bouquet of winter flowers to be delivered to Olivia's apartment.

  "Do you think she'll like the arrangement?" I asked once I'd told her what I wanted.

  "I think she'll love it," the woman said. "It's the perfect combination of cheer and romance."

  "Well, don't send it until I can get down there and write a card for it," I said.

  "Oh, I know that, sir," she laughed. "We all know that you never send flowers without them."

  "Am I really that predictable?” I asked as I chuckled.

  "That's not predictable, sir. That's kind and considerate, and women love that kind of thoughtfulness."

  I told her I'd be there within the hour to write a card, and then hung up and headed for the shower, whistling a happy little tune as I thought about what I would say to Olivia.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Olivia

  Over the next twenty-four hours, I did two things almost without stopping. First, I called around to try and figure out where Senator Bangor would be during the day so that I could try and accidentally run into him and conduct an impromptu interview. And second, I thought about Linc Redding.

  The first task was profoundly frustrating because it was as if the senator didn't want to be found, so I finally gave up trying to track him down and went over to the Capitol to wait for my chance to ambush him.

  The second thing was sparked by the delivery of a large bouquet of winter flowers accompanied by a note that read:

  Olivia, I enjoyed your company. I would like to see you again. Soon.

  LR.

  "I enjoyed your company?" I said as I shook my head. The man was incredible. I laughed as I set the flowers on the coffee table. "Who uses polite, corporate language in a note about a date?"

  This was made even more frustrating because I couldn't shut off the film playing in my head reminding me of what Linc's lips felt like pressed against mine and what his naked skin felt like under my fingertips. I wanted to talk to him, but the memory of his very formal message on my phone made me cringe when I thought about how he must have done it simply to be polite.

  We'd had an erotic play session after the gala, which had probably been way less interesting than he'd been anticipating, so he'd escaped under the guise of work and was now trying to let me down easy by being polite. I got it, and I wasn't going to allow myself to obsess over something that I couldn't change. We came from two totally different worlds, and he'd moved back to his, leaving me behind in mine. I was a big girl and could deal with it, but I wished I didn't have to deal with the memory of almost having sex with Linc Redding.

  On Monday morning, I took a cab over to the Capitol and camped outside Senator Bangor's office. I didn't tell anyone who I was because I didn't want them warning the senator before I got to a chance to approach him. As luck would have it, I ended up running into him that afternoon outside of the cafeteria. He was a pudgy man who looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long time, and by the red splotches on his face, I could tell that he drank quite a bit on a regular basis.

  "Excuse me, Senator?" I called as he walked along the corridor mumbling under his breath as he read from a stack of papers in one hand and ate from a tuna melt he carried in the other. His suit looked wrinkled, as if he'd slept on the sofa in his office.

  "Yes? How can I help you?" he smiled a politician’s smile that told me nothing aside from the fact that he had no idea who I was.

  "I've been following your career for a long time, Senator, and I just wanted to say how happy I am that you are encouraging members of your party to work together to pass some good legislation this session," I said trying to smile like a good constituent would at a congressional leader they admired.

  "Well, thank you, young lady," he said as his smile spread across his face and his chest puffed up. "We do what we can to try and work together to benefit the citizens of this great nation."

  "Oh, I know you do, sir," I said enthusiastically nodding. "And I hope you'll keep doing what you do best."

  "I intend to try, young lady," he said extending his hand as he smiled even wider. I reached out and took his hand shaking it firmly, smiling back as I held his gaze.

  "Senator, I was wondering if you could tell me what you think is going to happen with the gun safety bill this week," I said delivering a blow that caused him to abruptly pull back his hand and stop smiling. I continued smiling as I waited for his answer.

  "Well, now, we're all working together to try and pass a comprehensive safety bill that will make it safe for citizens and maintain the rights of gun owners," he said, nervously shifting his eyes away from me and toward the hall behind me.

  "I've heard that, but I've also heard that you're not going to have enough votes to pass the bill," I said in a businesslike fashion. "Is that true, Senator? Is it true that last week's shooting directly affected your ability to drum up enough support for HR 8212?"

  "I'm sorry, who are you?" he said as he began backing up. "I didn't get your name."

  "Olivia Moore, with the Washington Sentinel, Senator," I said as I passed him my card. "I'm concerned because you've been the o
ne touting bipartisan support for the bill and now the rumor is that you, yourself are undermining the bill in order to curry favor with Davis Russo and the AWN. Is this true, Senator?"

  "I have no comment, Ms. Moore," Bangor said as he turned and walked back toward the cafeteria as if looking for a way to escape my questioning.

  "Is it true, Senator, that if you manage to sink the bill before it reaches the vote, you'll be guaranteed that your campaign will receive the endorsement of the AWN and that you might be tapped to run as Davis Russo's vice president when he announces his presidential run next summer?" I asked. I was making things up on the fly and mixing things I wasn't sure were true in with things I thought might be.

  "Who told you that?" he asked with a laugh. Bangor turned and walked back towards me stopping when he was less than a foot away. His smile was an oily grin, "Who told you Russo was running a presidential campaign?"

  "It's all over the newsrooms, Senator; I'm surprised you haven't heard it before now," I said feigning a look of complete surprise at his surprise. "In fact, Mr. Russo almost announced it himself at the gala the other night. Just ask anyone who was in the Dutch gallery around the time the orchestra started playing Sinatra tunes."

  I knew I was hedging my bets with that one, but since only Russo, Linc, and I were in the gallery, I felt like there was less risk in telling an embellished supposition.

  "I'm sure I'd have no idea about anything that Mr. Russo claims to be involved in," Bangor said with a smile designed to show me that he was unconcerned, but in his attempt to hide his true feelings, he'd forgotten that I could see his clenched fist turning his sandwich into a compressed ball of fish and mayo. "So, if you have no other questions, Ms. Moore, I'll be heading back to my office for my afternoon meetings."

  "No, that's all I wanted to ask," I said with as bright a smile as I could muster, and with that, Senator Bangor turned and marched toward his office muttering under his breath. I knew I'd hit a nerve, but I wasn't quite sure which nerve I'd hit since he could have been mad about a number of things I'd said. I wondered if it had been the guess that he'd been trying to sink the bill or if it was the fact that Russo might be announcing his run for president.

  As I headed down the corridor toward the exit, I was turning the possibilities over in my mind when I walked right into none other than Lincoln Redding.

  "Uhf!" I grunted as I collided with the tall dark figure. Before I saw who it was, I said, "Jeez, what is it with you Washington men always getting in people's way? Why don't you-"

  "Hello, Olivia," Linc said with a smile. "You're a hard woman to get a hold of."

  "Yeah, well, I've been busy," I said stepping back and eyeing him warily. "How are you, Redding?"

  "I'm well, thank you for asking," he said, still wearing that infernal smile. "I called you and left a message, but you didn't return my call."

  "Like I said, I've been busy," I said defensively. "Some of us actually have to work for a living, you know?"

  "Ouch, that hurts." He faked a wince, but didn't stop smiling. "But I guess I kind of deserve that, don't I?"

  "But thanks for the flowers," I said as I tried hard to keep from staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes. It was nearly impossible and as the smell of his cologne drifted into the air between us, I felt a little dizzy.

  "I'm glad you liked them," he said. "I was trying to make up for not calling sooner."

  "What is wrong with you, Redding? Did you hit your head?" I asked. I was suspicious of this kindness and his willingness to own up to the call. I was used to him pushing back and calling me stubborn or mouthy.

  "No, I'm just trying to do my best to show you that I'm actually interested in you and invite you on a real live date."

  "Is this a joke?"

  "Not in the least," he said with a smile. I stared at him, not knowing what to say, so he continued. "I'd like to take you out on Friday, if you're free."

  "Yeah, I think I'm available," I nodded. I wanted to see where this was going.

  "Good, I'll send a car for you in the morning around ten. Is that okay?"

  "That's fine," I said, looking at him suspiciously.

  "Dress casually. I have a fun day planned, but it will entail a lot of walking," he said as he reached out and took a strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger, rubbed it and then let go. "I've been thinking of you a lot, Olivia."

  "Uh, yeah, you've been in my thoughts, too," I said backing away so that I was at a safe distance. I didn't know how to relate to this man who was being nice and polite. Linc and I had been at odds since the moment we'd met, and now, he was being nice.

  "Friday, then?" he said.

  "Friday," I agreed. And with that, Linc Redding turned and walked out of the Capitol, whistling.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Linc

  "You son of a bitch, Redding!" Larry Bangor shouted as he pulled back his arm and then punched me in the face. The force of his fist connecting with my jaw knocked me against the wall and gave Bangor time to come after me still swinging. I ducked and narrowly missed a second punch before Brant and two other poker players grabbed Bangor and pinned him to the wall.

  "What the hell are you doing, Bangor?" I shouted as I wiped the blood from my face with the back of my hand.

  "You are an asshole, Redding!" he shouted as he struggled to break free. "I'm going to kill you!"

  "Bangor, calm the hell down and tell me why you're out for blood," I said as I tried to regain control of the situation.

  "Oh, c'mon, Redding, you know your little minion told you all the gory details," he sneered as he continued to struggle only to find that it was useless.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely confused.

  "That redhead reporter from the Sentinel came to the Hill today and told me all about your plan to back Russo in his run for president," Bangor spat. "Nice way to show loyalty to someone who was willing to get the votes you needed to pass the bill."

  "What the hell?" I said, looking at Brant who shrugged and then looked back at Bangor. "What are you talking about, Bangor?"

  "You're going to throw money behind Russo so that he can get the party nomination and you can get your bill passed," he said, looking around the room. "You and Russo have been in this together all along and you've been using me as insurance."

  "I have no idea what you are talking about," I said as I tried very hard to understand his illogical conclusion. "I wouldn't endorse Davis Russo for dog catcher, let alone get involved in some kind of dirty deal that might lead to him becoming president. You should know me better than that, Bangor."

  "Your little girlfriend said that Russo is planning to launch a run for the White House next year and that he's tossed around the idea of asking me to be his running mate," Bangor said more calmly, then muttered under his breath, “As if someone with my years of experience wouldn't run his own campaign."

  "Wait, Russo is going to run for president?" I asked. "How on earth would he ever make that happen?"

  "I don't know, but between your money and the AWN's power, I can see that he would have a lot of support!" Bangor shot back. "I thought I was helping you get the votes needed to pass the bill so that you'd back me!"

  "For what?"

  "For president!" he shouted. The room was silent for a moment and then everyone except for Bangor and me burst into laughter.

  "Good one, Larry!" Brad Mason shouted. "That's a great joke!"

  "It's not a joke," I said holding up my hand. The laughter ceased, and I looked at Bangor, who stood miserably looking around at his fellow senators, realizing that he didn't have the kind of power or respect he'd imagined. "Bangor, you thought you'd have my support if you got the bill passed, but how did you think you were going to get the endorsement of the AWN?"

  "I didn't," he said looking around. "I thought that the party would back me as the candidate because I'd worked out a bipartisan deal and made everyone happy and that you'd donate to my Super PAC."

 
"What fairytale world have you been living in, Bangor?" I said. I was stunned that this man would have assumed so much without knowing anything about me. "I mean, really, when have I ever said I'd support you in any way? Think about it. Do you have any idea of what I really think of you?"

  "You respect my power and position," he said lifting his chin and looking me straight in the eye.

  "Try again," I told him shaking my head.

  "You know I have power, and you know I know how to use it to get what I want," he said, regaining some of his arrogant attitude now that he'd been released from the hold the other senators had put him in.

  "Guess again, Bangor," I said in a bored voice.

  "I'm the most distinguished senator on the Hill!" he cried.

  "Only in your own mind," I replied. "Let's try this again, Senator, shall we? You are a foul-mouthed bloviate who was elected because the rich and privileged Chicago constituents got together and threw their money behind a candidate that they knew they could buy. You are weak minded and without morals, and you'll sell your services to the highest bidder. Stop me when I hit something that isn't true, won't you?"

  Bangor stood open-mouthed, staring at me as I ran down a list of the dirty deals he'd been involved in and how they'd affected his fellow congress people. When I was finished, a few of the senators had turned their backs and resumed drinking at the bar. Those who hadn't been fully aware of Bangor's actions stood staring at him with open disgust.

  Jeff Graham stepped forward and spoke. "I think it would be wise for you to leave now, Senator Bangor. I think we've all seen and heard enough."

  "But-" Bangor began.

  "I'm going to second the Senator's suggestion," I said as I walked to the door and opened it. I gestured out toward the street. "Goodnight, Mr. Bangor."

  Bangor gave us all a murderous look and then stalked toward the door. He stopped in the doorway and said, "I'm not done with you yet, Redding. Don't forget that I can still make or break your bill."

  "If this is the price I have to pay, then so be it," I said calmly. I knew that I was playing a risky game of chicken and that if Bangor wanted to, he could sink the entire bill.