And the lucky, gorgeous bastards are happily married and have been for years.
Yes, to each other.Duh.
I think there’s also maybe a third party involved but that’s due to my personal observations, not to any rumors I’ve heard.
Observations regarding a certain sophomore senator.
A man.
A very married, conservative man.
Married to a woman with a family who has all sorts of political connections.
If my instincts are correct, it’ll be a bombshell if it ever becomes public.
There’s part of me who’s curious about that, about maybe digging. Lobbing that kind of political Molotov cocktail could, if timed right, completely drown out any announcement of Elliot coming out and marrying me.
It’s something to think about.
Yes, I’m a very evil man. Your point is what, exactly?
Except Senator Davis is halfway through his third term and is a reliable supporter of Shae’s legislative agenda. He’s chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, a member of the Senate Appropriations Committee, and a member of the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Subcommittee on National Parks.
It’s amazing the man even has time to get his cock sucked, much less for a marriage and a possible third party.
Daniel motions for me to have a seat on the sofa while he takes the chair. “Then if we’re in agreement everything today is off the record, go ahead.”
“Do you have any insight into what Stella Woodley is currently up to behind the scenes? Especially in tandem with Congresswoman Grace Martin.”
He scowls. I can tell I just lobbed him a fast pitch from a completely unexpected direction. He likely thought this would be something about the budget process. “Stella Woodley, as in Vice President Woodley’s sister?”
I nod.
Daniel’s expression grows guarded. “I know she and Congresswoman Martin have a lot of mutual friends in a certain townhouse on C Street.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He settles in his seat, both more relaxed now that he realizes this really is personal, and more guarded because he’s not sure where I’m going with it. “I’m sure you know my husband and I are members of two of the prayer groups.”
“I do. Which is why I came to you. Because I know that, despite your spiritual affiliations, you’re not exactly chummy with the C Street folks. Neither of you are sitting at the good tables at the National Prayer Breakfast every year.”
He snorts. “That’s one way of putting it.” He scratches his chin, buying himself a little time. “What, exactly, are your thoughts?”
I shrug. “I’m best friends with the vice president. And you know I work for President Samuels. You should also know I’m loyal to them. Anything I sense coming at them from an unforeseen direction, I step in. Especially petty bullshit that can distract either of them.”
He cocks his head. “Is Woodley declaring soon?”
I shrug. “He hasn’t answered that question.”
“He’s running out of time. You know there’s at least five other Dems eager to eviscerate each other if he bows out, right? The DNC even mentioned to Liam that they’d be interested in talking to him, if he was open to running. Which he’s not. Not this time, anyway. No one wanting in this time has the balls to primary the vice president, if he declares.”
I slowly enunciate my answer. “He hasn’t answered that question yet.”
He nods, realizing that’s all he’ll get from me.
Quid pro quo isn’t technically illegal—itisillegal.
The thing is, it happens all the time in DC. It’s how the sausage gets made. There are lots of little ways to do it that slide under the radar. A congressman will cosign a bill if a senator adds an amendment during reconciliation. A senator will help kick money for a highway project to a congressman if the congressman corrals some of their caucus to push for oversight hearings into something or other.
