Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Trying not to hyperventilate—or give in to the paranoia that everyone in the room can tell my underwear is wet—I join Pierce at the front of the space.
“Senator Stokes, I’d like to introduce Eloise Rogers, youth council secretary.”
“An honor to meet you, Senator,” I say in my most proficient tone, holding out my hand for a shake…but he doesn’t take my offered hand right away. Instead, he rears back, visibly stunned, his attention skimming down the front of my body and back up, but not before detouring to my breasts. I hold on to my disgust, smile remaining in place, however, and he finally slides his clammy, too-smooth palm into mine, shaking my hand slowly.
“Well, well. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Rogers,” he says, gripping my fingers a beat too long. “Does the youth council secretary always travel with the president?” He passes McAlister a knowing grin. “Or only when she looks like you?”
One would like to think we’ve phased out sexual harassment of this nature, especially within the hallowed halls of the state houses, but I’ve been working in politics long enough to know we’re far from an ideal reality. Once the cameras retreat and the reporters are no longer recording, powerful men tend to say whatever their little hearts desire.
My smile never falters. I’ve had practice. “The president was kind enough to—”
“What the fuck did you just say, Stokes?” Pierce says, his tone deadly quiet. “How she looks is irrelevant. She’s here to detail an initiative that could benefit the young people of your state. If you can’t do your job and listen to her plan without being a pervert, I’ll start looking into endorsing someone else in the next election.”
Stokes’ face is ghostly white. “I apologize, sir. That was out of line.”
“Apologize to her. Now. Then show her some goddamn respect.”
“I truly do apologize, Ms. Rogers.” He presses a hand to his chest, head bowing. “It won’t happen again. Please tell me about your initiative.”
Honestly, I’m tongue tied and kind of emotional over Pierce defending me so passionately, but I gather my wits. Before I have a chance to begin, however, a Secret Service agent approaches with an air of urgency. “President McAlister, you’re needed on a call with the Prime Minister. We have him on the line in the salon, if you’ll follow me.”
Pierce curses, his jaw looking like it’s ready to crack. “Ms. Rogers is not to be left alone, is that understood? I want somebody from your team with her at all times.”
“Yes, sir.”
He looks me hard in the eye. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sir.” I worship the ground you walk on. “Please, take the call.”
Pierce hesitates another few seconds, before he turns on a heel and marches out of the room, glancing back over his shoulder at me twice before disappearing around the corner. And my love for the president has never been more vindicated. In fact, I’m so warm and safe in the knowledge that he exists, that he’s in charge now, I have to blink back a layer of moisture in my eyes. Do him proud.
“Senator Stokes, you’ve already made great strides in destigmatizing mental health amongst your younger constituents, but the goal of the youth council is to make these resources available in early education…”
six
. . .
Eloise
Twenty minutes later, I’ve finished my pitch to the senator and it’s no surprise that he’s agreed to see a formal proposal from the council. I like to think I impressed him, but deep down I know he’s a little terrified of Pierce, too—and that’s A-okay with me.
Whatever gets the job done.
“Ms. Rogers, the president would like to see you.”
“Please excuse me, Senator. Thank you for your time.”
“Yes, of course.” He reaches out for a conclusionary shake and I put my hand in his grip, surprised when he squeezes a little too tight, looking somewhat...chagrined? “I’m probably courting political ruin here, but…I would love to discuss the initiative further. Maybe we could slip away during the gala tonight for a quiet drink, if you’re not hightailing it back to Washington.” His grin causes my skin to crawl. “I’m extending the invitation with the utmost respect, of course. I like speaking with you.”
“Oh, um.” I’m completely caught off guard. What twenty-five-year-old woman wouldn’t be flustered when asked on a date by a fifty-something-year-old man? “I don’t know what m-my plans are for the night.”
“You’re busy, Ms. Rogers,” Pierce says, approaching with an expression of pure malice, all of it directed at the senator. “Somebody doesn’t know when to quit.”
Stokes has the grace to look ashamed, at the very least. “You can’t blame a man for trying. She’s quite something.”
“Eloise, please go wait in the car,” the president says, smoothly, despite the hard glint in his eye. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Not wanting to miss my opportunity to escape the clutches of Senator Lecher, I move briskly out of the room, trying to make out the low, angry conversation that ensues in my wake, but unable to do so over the bustle of security around me. I’m brought down the steps of the state house and hustled into a waiting SUV parked at the curb. Approximately two minutes pass before the president is led to the same running vehicle, climbing in beside me and immediately yanking on his tie to loosen it.