Loving the Candidate (Capitol Affairs #2) (3 page)

Mark was a Harvard graduate and had helped write speeches for Obama during his first administration. Mark was well respected around D.C. and Alex knew he was lucky to have him, though they had been friends for quite a while

“Get them out of here. I don’t need this. Where’s Ashe? I don’t give a shit what new whore he’s bedding. Call his ass up and get him over here. Call the police or whatever you have to do to get them the fuck out of here!” It took a lot for Alex to start yelling and cursing. I dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt as Beckett barked like crazy at the window.

I turned on the news while I made coffee. There was no more sleeping for the day, and I was thankful it was Saturday. Of course, Alex was the lead story, both locally and nationally. Every channel was airing something about it. Live reports were being broadcast from our front lawn, and out the window of the kitchen, I could see and saw cars and people everywhere. One woman stood at the front door while her makeup was being applied. Reporters and cameramen lined the perimeter of our house.

“We are live in front of Senator Conrad’s house. As soon as he comes out, we will get his comments. Were the senator and his ex-fiancée having a secret affair?”

For God’s sake. Who came up with that? It was utterly ridiculous.

They went on to discuss Stella’s mental condition and how she’d escaped the hospital twice. The press focused on a clip of Alex yelling at students to move out of the way. There were interviews of staff from the school as they explained what they had seen and heard. There was a video of us leaving, with me trying to cover my face. The news coverage went on all day.

We didn’t leave the house till Monday. As the week went on, it became more difficult to function normally. Alex became silent and withdrawn, which meant he was angry. He had no patience after the episode from the fundraiser, and I was afraid he might do something stupid.

Mark took me to work in his car, and Alex did most of his work at the house. We survived for a couple of days, hiding in cars. The reporters would wait at the end of the driveway and rush the car when they saw it come down the driveway. Women with their hair in ponytails, running with microphones, and men with khaki pants and oxfords, yelling as they waited for us to leave, bombarded us. The camera flashes were constant, and the road out of our neighborhood stayed lined with cars and news vans.

I’d hoped to go to my law office for peace and quiet, but reporters stood outside there also. By the third day of fighting my way in, I’d had enough. I became tired, frustrated, and wanted to punch something or someone. I was one of the rising prosecuting attorneys at the law office Victoria had started. She had been out with an illness no one wanted to discuss, but I’d discovered she had found a malignant lump. She had come to my condo one night to help me with a blackmailing issue I had with Trevor. She was sick then, and told me it was her thyroid and stress. I didn’t want to say anything, but I had spoken to her husband. He told me it was worse than they thought but they were going to treat it aggressively. I didn’t expect her to come back. In the meantime, Thomas worked in the office with me, though he was still in a cubicle.

“Honey, what is going on at your house? I drove over yesterday and had to flee for my life when a reporter came after me. She was relentless, hanging on the car and bombarding me with questions. I feared a zombie apocalypse.”

Not wanting to get into the nightmare of my current situation, I made my way to my office and shut the door without answering him. I loved the solitude of my office. Pictures of Alex and me lined my desk along with pictures of my brother and sisters. Behind me on my bookshelf full of law books, I had the one picture of my mom, Deidre. She was about nineteen, standing in front of the trailer, smoking a cigarette and still looking beautiful. She wore a bikini top and cut-off jean shorts with converse tennis shoes. I had no idea who took the picture, though I remember finding it in the trailer, and hiding it. The ravages of drug use and prostitution had not yet destroyed her looks, and she still looked young and vibrant. The picture kept me grounded, and reminded me of where I came from, how hard I’d worked. It was one of the few things I’d kept from my childhood.

I peeked out through my window by the door, and I saw Thomas with his head down. He pouted and looked sullen since I hadn’t spoken to him. Most mornings he’d come into my office and we’d have a cup of coffee together, and he’d tell me something he’d heard running through the office or a new sex position he and Bruce tried. I turned on my phone and sent him a text to ease his mind and tell him I wasn’t mad at him.

“
Stop pouting. Lunch? My treat in my office at noon?”

I looked out again, and he pushed back his chair and smiled at me. He was so predictable.

“If it’s Thai.”
He responded.

“
Fine, you spoiled queen. Get your work done, or you’re fired.
”

He pushed back his chair and proceeded to flip me off. Knowing this could go on all day I ignored him and got to work. By lunchtime, he was his usual, chatty self as we ate Thai with chopsticks.

“Looks like the love shack is being invaded.” He laughed.

“It’s not funny, Thomas. It’s a nightmare. There should be laws against reporters camping out at someone’s house all the time.” I poured soy sauce on my Pad Thai, the one dish I liked from this particular restaurant.

“You’re the wife of a senator. Have Alex push for a bill or something. How’s he holding up, anyway?”

“Better than I am, but he’s quiet and that’s when I know he’s mad. I wish they would find something else to report on.” I picked at my lunch and threw the rest in the trash. I needed to get back to work, and Thomas would sit in my office all day chatting if I let him.

“You two should get away. Go to that beach house for a few days. Isn’t that the place where you two do nothing but fuck?” He waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes at him and thought about it. We had not been back there since Alex asked me to marry him. I didn’t want to let Thomas know, but that was a perfect idea.

***

Mark picked me up around seven and we fought our way down the road and to my driveway. I was anxious to see Alex and get inside the solitude of my home. I walked into the house, heard him in the kitchen, and smelled the wonderful aroma of garlic. He liked to either cook or have sex when he was stressed. I would either find him in the bedroom waiting for me or at the oven cooking a gourmet dinner. Unfortunately, tonight he was cooking. I planned to change that.

“Hey, beautiful. How was your day? Are you hungry?” he asked, but didn’t turn around. I was hungry for him, as he stood at the stove in his ripped jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt. I put my purse and briefcase down and wrapped my arms around him. His ass looked so perfect and bitable in those worn-out jeans. It made me forget about the last few days and all the work I had to do.

“You’re turning me on, Alex.” Closing my eyes, I nuzzled my face against his back and breathed in his scent. The scent of him just out of the shower was as good as his all day scent. I slipped my hands under the front of his shirt, touching the softness of his skin.

“Is that a fact? How? I’m making dinner.” He turned to face me and I melted. He was scruffy and beautiful. If nothing else, the sight of him was all I needed.

“And it is so hot when you take over in the kitchen.”

He reached under my blouse and groped for my bra clasp. “Sex before the famous Conrad Chicken?” His mouth covered mine.

“Sex before everything with you, Alex.” I said against his mouth, as he unhooked my bra with one hand.

“I agree, baby. This can wait. I’m not hungry, are you?”

“Only for what’s between your legs, Alex.” He continued to lavish me with his kisses. We were in bed as fast as he put down the spatula.

Lying between his legs and snug in his arms after he’d made me see stars, and scream for God twice, I suggested we get away for a couple of days.

“Let’s get out of here for a while, Alex. We need to go to the beach house. No one will bother us, the government is on vacation, you can practice your speech, I can work on my case, and we can be together. We can try to get back to normal,” I said.

We stared at the ceiling fan, watching it spin in our rustic bedroom. The bedroom was our sanctuary, and my favorite part of that beautiful log cabin we called home. So rustic and comfortable, our bedroom was the place where we shared our secrets, our bodies, and our love. It was where he made love to me the first time. In this gorgeous, huge home, this was my favorite room.

“We should. It would be great to get out of here. We can have Mark stay here and watch Beckett. If we’re nowhere to be found, they will leave us alone, and the bullshit will die down. I need to concentrate on what is coming, not worry about reporters. You need to work on that case, don’t you?”

“Yes, and we can do this, about ten times a day, with no distractions.” I smiled up at him.

“Oh, my Prudence, you are going to kill me soon. Did you see those gray hairs popping up?” He hugged me to his body.

“I’m keeping you young, Alex. Sex is the best medicine. I love those gray hairs. It makes you even hotter, if that’s possible,” I laughed. He stretched, and his stomach growled.

After prying myself away from his warm, yummy body, I showered and Alex finished dinner. As we ate chicken cooked in garlic-infused olive oil and wrapped in basil, we decided to get packing and leave early in the morning. The next day, we flew out at dawn with two suitcases, our work, and hopes for peace and quiet. Before we left, Alex called Stella’s parents and offered his condolences. It was a tough phone call, but one he had kept putting off. He had to call them out of respect. After he hung up, Alex told me they’d apologized for what she did to him and didn’t blame him for anything. I was glad for his sake the call went well.

Chapter 3

We took the private jet, and made it out without the press following us. Mark would stay at our house with Beckett. He lived in a small condo, so he said coming to our house was like going on vacation. I didn’t mind as long as he didn’t try to bring any girls to our home, which, with his track record, I was sure would be nothing to worry about.

Once we landed and made our way to the beach house, I breathed a sigh of relief. Hyannis was busy that time of year, but our house was secluded and I looked forward to having Alex to myself for a few days. It couldn’t be any better.

The beach house had become our secret refuge and our favorite place. It held so many wonderful memories for me in the short time I had been going out there. The greatest one was when Alex asked me to marry him. Our lives had started in that tiny room upstairs, my favorite room. Once we were there, we did whatever we wanted with no time constraints, emails, or texts. Mark had stocked it with our favorite snacks. He knew the drill. Whenever we needed to get away, Alex would call him and tell him to “stock the joint.” He had filled the fridge with our favorite food, wine, and snacks. I preferred Swedish Fish and Cheetos, Alex wanted roasted nuts and Snickers bars. We had enough for a week even though we planned to be there for only three days. We ate bad food, drank expensive wine, and sat and listened to the waves lap the shore. It was a sound I had come to love, and a sound that meant Alex was all mine.

It rained when we landed so there was nothing else to do but spend time listening to the rain, and lie in bed naked. After I had my way with him, he grabbed his laptop and worked as I rested on propped-up pillows, reading over notes for my upcoming case. This was a big case for me. I was going to be prosecuting a man accused of sexually assaulting his stepdaughter for over ten years. It was becoming a big story around D.C. The pressure was on for me to use the skills taught to me by Victoria, but I was confident.

Alex was relaxed, content, and happy. I loved to see him like that. We talked, he made us dinner, and we even ate in bed. He practiced his speech, adding final changes to it, while we held each other and listened to old blues music. In the darkness of that room, we talked through the night about his run for the White House. It was during those quiet moments with him, the true Alex came out. The Alex I fell in love with, the man I saw at the old beach house.

Alex read everything written about John F. Kennedy. He had brought one whole bag, filled with biographies, and articles about his life and presidency, and studied them repeatedly. He filled his office with JFK’s books, and pictures of him lined the walls. Like Alex, Kennedy had been a young senator when he ran for president. Alex wanted to do the same. It wasn’t going to be easy, and the rate of failure was high for a senator running for president. But Alex wanted it more than anything. He wanted it so badly he was willing to take any risk he needed to get there. He had already impressed his colleagues with his grasp of foreign affairs, and his ability to write legislation that moved through the Senate.

Alex negotiated well with the House, and he had gained respect from both parties. He’d made a name for himself rather quickly. Alex had become one of the leading critics against President Richardson’s use of force in foreign countries, and one major issue Alex fought for was women’s rights. He was the longtime leader of equal pay legislation in Senate and had helped pass the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act. I was so proud of him for this. Women’s studies was my minor in college, and he knew how important this was to me. Alex had the confidence, and the personality, to take it all the way. His attitude of working hard for anything you wanted in life would help with his quest for the White House. He needed to ignore the others who told him he was too young, or not experienced enough. He needed to do what his gut told him, and it told him to run. This speech would decide that.

The second day, I woke up to the sun streaming in the window, the sound of waves lapping on the shore, and seagulls calling overhead. I decided to lie in the sun while Alex read. The sun and I didn’t usually get along, but I wanted color for the convention. I’d bought a new bikini I couldn’t wait for Alex to see me in, and it was the perfect day to strut around. The sky was bright blue, with only a few clouds floating by. I grabbed a blanket, my case notes, and water, and headed to the shore.