With every ounce of confidence I can muster, I reply, “You have no idea how hard it has been trying to find a woman willing to eventryto go on a single date with you. Much less getting the women to the stage of letting them know you want her permanently as a wife.”
He leans back against the seat, tilting his head toward the sky with a frustrated grunt. His hands run through his dirty blond waves that have been gelled and styled for the night.
“You’re probably scaring them all away,” Darcy mutters, though he in no way tried to conceal the statement.
I hear Ren whisper from the front. “Oh, boy.”
Then I see red.
Grabbing his tie, I jerk his face down so that he is eye-level with me. “Don’t you for one second try to blame me for your lack of social propriety, your unrealistic expectations of women, and your Grinch-like demeanor.” I jab him in the chest with a finger from my free hand. “I don’t care if you are petitioning to be king of the world. That doesn’t give you permission to bully me and blameme for your own faults. I am here to do one job: get you elected to America’s highest office. That’s it.”
As we pass under a street light, the world slows to a halt.
His sapphire eyes, now illuminated by the light shining through the sunroof and windows, widen. His lips, shiny as if he recently applied lip balm, narrow while his jaw clenches and unclenches. What’s the cliche references in all the dark romance books? He looks like a vengeful angel…
And I realize I just insulted a billionaire man running to be the president of the United States. More importantly, I insulted myboss.
With that awakening, all motion resumes and Darcy’s expressions are plunged back into the darkness of the night. My senses slap me in the face.
I let go of his tie and return my hands to my lap.
Ren whistles from the front and then turns to face us. “It’s about time someone other than me called him out on his prideful complex.” He throws a cheeky grin at Darcy and holds a hand up in the air toward me, which I assume is for a high-five.
Keeping my hands firmly in my lap, I give my head a little shake to let Ren know that a high-five is not going to happen. He slowly lets his hand drop and turns around again.
The moment Ren is no longer visibly peeking over the shoulder of the seat, I cringe. Whatever apology that’s going to tumble out of my mouth in about three seconds better be the world’s greatest.
“Mr. Marshall, I—”
He holds a finger up, his face turned away from me. I desperately need to fix this.
“Sir, I—”
“Just let me think for a moment.” His voice is a growl, and I know I took things too far. The overwhelming desire to win him back over to my good side takes over, and so I do the only thing I can right now. I lean back in my seat and shut up for once.
His fingers fly to his temples and he lightly shakes his head. What’s going on up there? I’ve wondered recently if the way his long fingers find his temples and massage while he practices deep breathing is him trying not get overstimulated and snap. I bite my tongue to resist the temptation to apologize again. Instead, I ask the Lord to fix this situation because I can only screw it up more, it seems. Why did I have to let the anger out? The ugly out?
That’s why your Mama left you. You’re rotten inside and out.The words of Director Hoggs are seared into my memories, and they like to make appearances every now and then. I take deep breaths and remind myself that I am cherished, loved, and adored by the Creator of this universe. He gave me breath in my lungs. He thought I was worth having on Earth. His opinion is the only one that matters.
Feeling centered again, I effectively get a short apology out to the brooding man next to me without him interrupting, but all he murmurs in response is, “She’s it. I should have known all along.”
Chapter Six
Darcy
The perfect candidate for Mrs. Darcy Marshall has been under my nose—and under my skin—this entire time. She’s the woman I need for the position, but I’ve been too annoyed by her sunshine-complex to even consider the possibility.
After Priscilla left me, I realized two things. The first realization was that I did not need love. I only needed respect, loyalty, and trust. The second realization was that I needed a woman who would be my sidekick and who understood the world I lived in. Maybe even understandme.
Hayden Bennett is capable of taking over the world. I’ve seen her in action dealing with the press, managing my team, and the million other things she does on a day-to-day basis for this campaign. But the way she confidently stood up to me for admittedly being extremely rude to her opened my eyes to the possibility of so much more. She could be a real confidant. There is no fear of heartache. I don’t particularly like her, much less love her.
But I do trust and respect her.
Will making her my wife for my office tenure, if elected, be a thorn in my side? Of course. However, it could also be a strategic move. There’s no rule, among countless election rules, saying your fiancée or wife can’t manage your campaign. Though we get under each other’s skin, and she’s one of the loudest women I know, she’s also the most qualified candidate for the job of being my wife and possibly becoming First Lady.
We work pretty great together, if the success of this campaign so far is any indication. We are nearing the end of March, and my poll numbers have never been higher than they—
A tap on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts.
