On His Terms (4 page)

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“I don’t get it. First, your bodyguard sneaks up on me in the woods. Now you’re telling
me I need to meet with you in secrecy. I didn’t even know who you were before you
walked into my diner.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“If it makes you feel better, you can tell one person that you trust that you and
I will be meeting. You must understand, Ally- I have a lot of people watching my every
move.
A lot of enemies, Ally.
The phone just isn’t safe.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“I have your card. I need to think about this,” she said.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Please, think hard. This is not something you have to do. It’s a choice, Ally. Perhaps
one of many more to come for you and me,” he said.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Okay, I’ll think it over,” she said, hanging up the phone.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
But her mind was already made up. Right or wrong, she was going to meet with him.

* * *

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She felt strange driving through La Jolla in her beat up 1999 Toyota Corolla. Ally
could hardly afford to buy groceries in La Jolla; the amount of wealth in this area
was simply incomprehensible to her. But she had to see what all of this was about.
His words,
‘you and me’
, kept echoing in her mind. And the electricity that she felt from his touch in the
diner, she would do anything to feel that again.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She was looking for his address, 12 Shelly Drive. She could smell the ocean and she
knew she must
be
getting close. As she arrived at the billionaire’s street, she noticed that his home
was
the street. There were no other properties aside from his.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
That figures.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She arrived at the cobblestone driveway, and the iron gates opened immediately for
her.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
His estate was unimaginable. Well, she had imagined rich people’s homes before, and
she had certainly seen them from a distance. But to be this close was altogether different.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The entry doors alone were larger than life, each guarded by royal-looking pillars.
She knocked on the door with her delicate hand, and the thick, hard wood absorbed
almost the entirety of her knock. As she reached for the bell, a voice came through
an outdoor intercom:

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Welcome, Ally. Please come around back.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
There was
a slate stone path that lead
to the back. As she followed the path, she considered turning around and never coming
back. But the smells of the sea kept drawing her in. And the fact that the pathway
was lined with an infinite array of exotic flowers didn’t hurt either.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
As she came around and looked up, her eyes were met with the most incredible, heavenly
view that she could possibly imagine. Beautiful, plush green grass surrounded by bed
after bed of flowers, all opening up to a breathtaking panoramic view of the Pacific
Ocean.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Come, please sit down,” a deep, familiar voice called to her.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Ally hadn’t noticed Hale Westbrook sitting off to the right. He definitely looked
the part of the super rich governor of California, now even more so than in the diner.
His perfect hair slightly disheveled, but only from the ocean breeze that travelled
across his estate lawn. He wore khakis and a soft, white cotton shirt that was un-tucked
from his pants. And his feet were bare.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This man was living a good life.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“I see you found the place alright?” His eyes scanned her body from head to toe.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Yes, it helped that you’re the only one who lives on the entire street,” she said,
fiddling with her ear lobe.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He grinned. “Do you drink wine, Ally?” He handed her a glass of white wine before
she could even answer.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The truth was
,
she never drank aside from weddings and important reunions. But today felt important
enough.

As a sudden roar of the ocean waves caught his attention for a moment, she seized
the opportunity to let her eyes wander across his gorgeous body. She hated feeling
this attracted to a stranger, but something about him felt so familiar to her.
He must make everyone feel this way,
she thought.
That’s probably what makes Hale Westbrook, Hale Westbrook.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Thanks for coming, Ally. I give you a lot of credit for meeting me out here under
these circumstances.” He sipped his wine, not breaking his eye contact for even an
instant.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“What circumstances?” she asked.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He paused for longer than he should have. Ally forced herself to stay calm as he trapped
her in his gaze.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“I know this is awkward for you Ally. It is for me too,” he reached for another sip
of wine as he massaged the side of his neck with his large fingers. “But I’m glad
you didn’t let uncertainty stop you from giving me a chance.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Hopefully I didn’t make the wrong choice,” she said, smiling gently.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
His eyes grew more serious. “I need your help with my campaign.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She swallowed hard. “How can
I
help you?”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Sounds strange, I know.” He adjusted his body and leaned in a bit closer to her.
“But I think you’re selling yourself short.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Mr. Westbrook, with all due respect, what do you want from me?” She crossed her arms
in front of her.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“That photo of you and I, from the diner… People liked it, a lot,” he paused as if
struggling to find the right words. “And furthermore, I’ll be totally frank with you.
 
It’s a tough sell- a wealthy governor with no wife or family of his own. Just doesn’t
look very relatable,” he said.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She shook her head.
 
“I’m not sure I follow.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Maybe our meeting the other day was some kind of fate, destiny.
 
I don’t know.
 
What I do know is that you coming into my life this way, seems to be like the final
puzzle piece I’ve been searching for.
 
I need someone who can help the public see me as someone they can trust.”

“You need a woman to make people trust you?” she said, completely shocked at what
he was telling her.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Yup. That’s pretty much it. But not just
any
woman,” he said.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Blood rushed to her cheeks as he inched his chair to within arms reach of her. “You’re
twenty two years old, you live with your sister, and you work in a diner. If you’re
lucky, someday you’ll reach your goal and become a teacher.” He placed his hand on
the soft skin just above her knee, stealing the breath from her throat.