Sorry, not sorry. Couldn’t resist that one.
But since I have his calendar copied into mine, I knew this.
He looks up, and I feel sort of guilty about the confusion on his expression. “So he’sreallyjust swimming with whales?”
“Exactlywhat I’ve beentryingto tell you, Dec. Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar, and not shoved up an intern’s cooch.” I focus on my computer again. “The governor is inbound. I’ll have bullet points for you in about twenty. Please be ready to start his morning briefing when he arrives. He’s got a busy day ahead of him.”
He turns to leave. “Yes, Ma’am.” I can tell from his tone, however, that he’s relieved and feeling a wee bit silly for his suspicion.
Finally. Status quo restored.
But I don’t fully relax until he’s left my office. He’s too damned perceptive.
I’ve taught him too well.
If I screw this up though, let’s hope I taught him well enough that he can take over for me at work, and with George’s campaign.
* * * *
Let me tell you what, over the next week, I sweat the wait until Friday night like you wouldnotbelieve. Because I know I need to accomplish this without Declan’s assistance. He might be upset at me later, but hopefully not.
It’s too risky to bring him on board for this. Not when I need him alive and free to take care of George.
I opt not to ride over to the dinner with George. My excuse is that my car’s at work and I need it this weekend, so I can’t ride home with him. And based on where the restaurant’s located, it doesn’t make sense to waste taxpayer dollars doubling all the way back to the office just to deliver me to my car.
Because I’ve done this countless times before with George, he buys it. He knows I’m overly cautious about appearances, especially since we’re now delicately balancing that lie about Declan renting a room from me. In fact, Declan drove in separately from me this morning because of him filming at the TV station.
George also knows that sometimes, after events like this, I like to lag behind to speak to others without him present. Plausible deniability.
For more than one reason tonight.
I actually arrive early tonight, by nearly an hour. Which is great, because it lets me to speak to the dining room manager about dinner, about George’s dinner in particular, and they allow me to go back to the kitchen to talk to the chef in person.
Very sweet man. Turns out he’s originally from Colombia, but he’s now a US citizen. He seems impressed when I speak to him in fluent Spanish, and we have a nice chat about a lot of different things.
Including dietary needs of the diners tonight, which I am, of course, curious about.
It also confirms something I’d heard.
By the time George and the other guests have arrived, I’ve already had a good twenty minutes to speak privately with Terrance Ronald, Jr., whose family cattle business actually owns the steakhouse.
Yes, he was one of the names on my list.
The only name I actually gave a shit about.
Now that I have my perfect inroad, I shamelessly exploit it, including heavily flirting with the guy before George arrives.
See, I’ve cultivated myself a certain…reputation in and around Nashville. Some people think I’m a slut. The truth is I’m not, although that’s what Iwantpeople to think. I want some people to think they have a decent chance of getting into my pants, even though they don’t.
Because then they don’t realize the true reason I’ve been seen with so many men throughout the years is I’ve been accumulating political contacts at the local, state, and even federal levels.
I’ve also been accumulating something even more valuable—information.
Meaning leverage.
Like the kind of leverage I first acquired fifteen years ago over one David Horrence. Leverage I’ve been careful not to apply too firmly for fear of snapping that lever clean off inside the dude’s ass, leaving me holding a short and pointy stick.
Politically, I can do alotwith a short and pointy stick, and have, in the past, but a lever is far more useful over the course of the long game.
And this has been oneverylong damn game.
