Electing For her Curves

Chapter Eight

James

I don’t recall ever sitting up all night in a rental car, even one as nice as this but for Krystal, I’d do a lot more if it meant I knew she was safe and I could be close to her.

I watch her figure move across an upstairs window after a while, before she draws the curtains.

At least I know which room is hers now.

It feels like for the rest of the night I’m replaying every single one of her movements in my mind. Every word she’s spoken to me so far.

Each one gives me such a thrill that only seems to get more intense as time goes on.

Once her lights go out and the chill of the night sets in, it’s those same memories that keep me focused until I can hardly keep my eyes open.

It feels like too long to be apart from her, but the time goes so fast I know even if I was in her bed it wouldn’t be long enough to give her everything I know I want to.

Give her everything I know she needs.

A part of me feels at peace though, and I can finally rest for today knowing that Krystal’s safe in her bed and hopefully dreaming about what I want to do to her once we’re alone.

It’s not the early morning traffic, or even the car leaving Krystal’s driveway that wakes me.

It’s my cell phone.

“Krystal?” I answer, half-asleep until I realize one car is missing from her driveway, instantly worrying me.

Shit! I fucking fell asleep, now I don’t know if she’s left or her old man… Dammit!

“Uh… No Sir, not Krystal,” The familiar voice of one of my business managers says politely.

“Oh, hi Mark. I was expecting-”

I was expecting to stay awake all night, keeping watch over what’s rightfully mine, and now I don’t know if she’s home alone or if her dad’s inside because I’ve seen her drive both cars that were in the fucking driveway.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sir. But we have an issue with-” Mark starts to tell me, but I cut him off.

“Mark. Remember when I said you were the manager? That even if it was life or death it was your call?” I remind him.

“I know you did Sir, I just-”

“You just need to make a decision, Mark. Get it right and you’ll go far. Get it wrong and we’ll go over how you could’ve done better next time, okay?” I ask him curtly before hanging up, knowing he won’t dare call me back.

I’ve told all my team that while I’m here in Woods End that I’m not to be disturbed. Not for any reason.

My biggest concern right now is where is Krystal? And I’m kicking myself for falling asleep but I also need to take a leaf out of my own book.

I either make a decision to call or go to the door myself and see just who is inside or I carry on with my day which I know has a full schedule.

But I don’t want to face any of it until I know where Krystal is.

If she got the gown I had made.

How she looks in it.

“Are you sure about these measurements?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I smile. Going over every single one of her curves with my eyes half-closed as I relay the specifics to the dressmaker in town.

But no.

I decide I can wait, I’ll let it be a surprise.

There’s no doubt the dress would be finished, probably already delivered. I made sure to make it worth their while to fulfill every one of my requests which they did happily.

Money always makes things happen, but I’ve noticed already how the sight of crisp hundred dollar bills in little piles makes friendly folk bend over backward.

Until this evening, if not before, I tell her, glancing over at the house one last time, still not knowing if she’s even home.

Telling myself she probably left already to do whatever she needs to do for her dad today.

All the things I’m supposed to be doing myself as a candidate for Mayor.

My first stop will be my own office where I plan to shower, shave, and change before heading over to the town hall.

Along the way, I hear myself laughing with satisfaction.

The elves have been out overnight.

Every second lamp post in town has a poster or placard for Mayor Newland telling me and everyone else to ‘Vote #1’.

Now, every other lamp post, empty window, or spare space it seems has an even bigger image of yours truly.

The fliers were a part of it, but I also had a fair amount of other promotional stuff printed off.

Just an image of me, smiling my winning smile. A thousand dollar suit and a Rolex.

No need to beg or even ask for votes.

It’s a statement more than a request. I’m not asking to be Mayor, I’m telling ‘em I’m the new Mayor.