Another knock at the door.
“Come in,” I say.
“Are you ready for the meeting?” my personal assistant, Bennie, asks.
I nod, grab my coat, and follow him out the door.
We wind through the hallways until we enter the conference room where my team waits for me. It’s our weekly Thursday Debrief meeting before the weekend comes where we share updates, review polls, and talk strategy. We do this on Mondays too, but I much prefer the Thursday meetings because we get to review our successes and failures of the week. It’s productive, informative, and…
“Sorry I’m late!”
Hayden’s voice turns me into a block of ice.
Or a blazing fire?
Can a person feel cold and sweaty at the same time? Maybe I have a fever.
“Oh, Hayden. Thank goodness you’re back.” Paul, the one redhead on my team, breathes a heavy sigh of relief. “Trying to be you and me is a difficult task.”
Hayden laughs. “I know the feeling. Trying to be me and Stella for a month nearly did me in.”
“Now I feel bad. I only had to be you for half a day.”
“Being me is going to get exponentially more difficult,” she says, her eyes finding mine.
I swallow and command everyone to take their seats. “Let’s begin with polling. What is the current data?” It’s not that I don’t know the trends, but polls can update at any given momentdepending on where you pull numbers from. And the last time I checked was last night when I got home after dinner. Mainly, I was obsessively googling my name to make sure nothing leaked from last night’s dinner fiasco.
Translation: I wanted to make sure the media never caught wind that I was having a fling with my campaign manager. It’s still odd to me that Mr. Loveless didn’t leak pictures. He must have something up his sleeve.
After Hanson, my polling executive, debriefs us, letting me know I am beating Richard Loveless within the conservative sphere in more liberal states while losing to him in traditionally more conservative states, we move into discussing campaign stops. Most everything is planned in that department as we had to strategize our route ages ago, but now we are simply checking in on the little details.
Hayden is detail-oriented. She may look and act like a hurricane bottled in a jar, but she pays attention to what’s important and knows how to finesse any situation. Alongside Stella, they planned the route we would take. Our “Route to Victory” as they called it. And so far, it’s been more successful than anything I could have dreamt up.
I watch her eyes light up as she talks about lineups and merchandise at the upcoming rallies. Her smile inches wider and wider with every passing moment she rambles on about the inner workings of the stage placement and timing to music. Technically, those things are not in her job description, but she enjoys them nonetheless, so she works with event planners quite a bit to create successful and engaging rallies to promote my candidacy for president. Thevibrancy in her voice draws a small smile out of me, and for a moment, I’m filled with immense pride to have her as my campaign manager.
And there it is. That’s why I proposed to Hayden. She’s an unstoppable force when it comes to this world I live in, and she’d make a great companion. If I can trust her to help me win the presidency, I can trust her to walk beside me through it. Marriage doesn’t have to be about love, but it must always be about trust and respect.
“Mr. Marshall?” My name in her sing-song voice captures my attention.
“Mm?” I snap my eyes to hers. That smile that’s not really a smile because she’s trying to hide it appears, and her eyes practically dance. Why does she love taunting me after catching me having thoughts about her? Does it give her a serotonin boost to embarrass me?
Her heels click with every step she takes toward me. She stands beside me now, and the heat radiating from her nearness makes my palms clammy.
“What do you think of the idea?” She cocks her head to the side as I meet her gaze. She hovers over me as I typically do her, and the corner of her lip twitches. I swivel my chair so that my body is facing hers, trying to rack my brain for any hint of the conversation happening before I lost my thoughts to what a successful pairing me and Hayden could be in the political world. Especially when she wears this black and white plaid skirt with a slit on the side and black stockings...
Eyes up, Darcy! What is wrong with you?
Before I realize what’s happening, Hayden leans down, placing her mouth at my ear. Sucking in a breath, I’m filled with her soft, floral scent and decide it’s best not to breathe right now. Not after staring too long at her legs. She exhales a puff of air, and it tickles my neck. But it doesn’t stop there. The weird sensation travels down my spine, filling me with angst and… pleasure? Her breathing is shaky as she whispers one word, “Yes.”
My legs move of their own accord, catapulting me out of my seat. Hayden stumbles backward on her heels, but I reach out with one hand and grab her waist and pull before she tumbles to the ground. Her chest connects with my own, and I tighten my hold to keep her steady.
The last thing I need is a broken campaign manager.
“You are no longer allowed to wear heels,” I attempt to tease her, though my voice sounds harsh.
“Must wear dresses, but can’t wear heels.” She clicks her tongue as she narrows her eyes. “Got it.”
I smile, trying to let her know I was joking, but then I remember what she said and holy smokes!
