Blessed

I wait for a minute as the girl on the other end of the line takes a breath. "I’m sorry, but the Governor isn’t taking any calls right now," she answers me calmly.

He’s probably in a meeting. I can understand what that guy must be going through. I mean, it may sound like a fucking cliché, but after we had sex—and yeah, I didn’t fuck him or anything like that—but whatever we did together I’m classifying as sex—I did a lot of thinking. Sure, the guy grew up wealthy. But that doesn’t make him responsible for the problems that I had growing up. He’s not the cause of it. I can see that he’s trying to do what he thinks is right. So what if I don’t agree with him 100% percent of the time? We’re both fucking American and we love this country. And this state. We’re trying to do the right thing in our own way.

"Let me leave a message for him then," I say patiently. She’s just doing her job. No need to get snappy with her.

"I’m sorry, the Governor isn’t taking any calls or messages at the moment," she replies back without any pause this time.

What. The. Fuck.

What the fuck is going on? Is Carter trying to lock me out of this? Doesn’t he fucking realize that I have as much invested in this shit as he does? That if he’s locking me out and trying to make plans that could screw me over that’s not fucking cool?

"What do you mean he’s not taking any fucking messages?" I snarl into the phone, my annoyance coming out. A few of the people in the bar look my direction. There’s wariness in their eyes. As if they’re trying to feel me out. "Why are you even bothering to pick up the goddamn phone then? Why not just turn it the fuck off?"

"I’m sorry," the girl repeats. "The Governor isn’t taking any calls, making any comments or responding to any messages, Mayor Jeffries."

Wait. Did you read that? Did you see what she said?

She called me Mayor Jeffries. She knows who I am. She knows why I’m calling.

Which means that Carter must have given explicit instructions not to take my call. He’s up to something. He’s planning something.

And he knows I’m not going to like it.

You remember what I told you about understanding where he was coming from? You remember what I said about him being an okay guy?

Well, I was fucking wrong now, okay? You can forget every fucking word I said.

Carter Andrews is a fucking snake. His Dad was a slum lord and he grew up with a silver fucking spoon that was bought by the suffering of the poor.

I take another gulp of my beer and hear the reporter on the television talking again.

"At the heart of the matter are the residents of New Kingston, led by their mayor, who are fighting for the economic survival of their town—courting the wealthy Boltiador family who has extensive mineral and refining operations around the globe to set up several factories in the community, potentially bringing tens of thousands of jobs and a much needed shot of vitality to the local economy. However, this initiative goes up squarely against the signature environmental legislation designed to protect the state that was recently passed by the Governor. As each man belongs to opposing political parties, it was widely believed that the Independent Senator, Vivian Hawthorne would be available to intervene…" I stop listening when I hear some peo

ple rustling and the door to the bar opening.

Fucking Christ. Just what I need right now.

Dressed in an expensive—and very tight—skirt and blouse that hugs her body like a second skin, and looking every bit the elitist walks in fucking Tina Ling.

Luckily, no one in the bar really knows who she is. She walks straight toward me, not even batting an eye at the stares that she’s getting. I guess the people who know me around here aren’t really surprised at beautiful women coming to meet me here anymore.

But seriously. Thank God no one knows who she really is. The fucking Mayor of Shanghai. Who is actively lobbying the Governor and I to let the Boltiador factories move to China. If that shit ever came out, these people here would kick my ass out of town so quick and end my political career so quick, I’d be lucky if I ever got elected to a housing board.

"I’m not surprised to see you here, drinking your day away," Tina says, pulling out a chair but standing instead. "Careful, too much beer and you’ll lose your alluring figure."

I snort. I still look good. The world might be going to shit, but I still got my muscles. My gorgeous fucking body. And my foot long pussy pleaser swinging between my legs.

But if my cock ever twitched for Tina, those fucking days are gone. I look at her coldly. There’s only one woman in my life now, and she’s made in the fucking USA.

"What the fuck do you want?" I ask, growling.

She reaches over and runs a hand down my arm. "Nice to see you too, Mayor Jeffries," she coos. "Looks like you’re having what you would call a ‘bad fucking day’."

"What the hell do you care?" I ask sharply, and I can tell people are trying hard to pretend not to listen while straining to catch a glimpse of our conversation. "You came up all the way from the city to tell me that?"

"No," Tina says, after a pause. "I came to help you."

I laugh darkly. "By giving up and letting you take those factories?" I ask her, looking into her dark eyes. "By sacrificing those jobs."