50 million.
One last job.
And then…freedom.
Ashley
The White House—there’s no other building on Earth quite like it. Over the past 100 years it has carved a place for itself in the psyche of billions of people, and it stands as the epicenter of the modern world. As for me, I think it stands for the epicenter of hypocrisy. Not that I should be complaining, I mean, it’s exactly that hypocrisy that will net me a cool $50 million. How does that saying go? If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
“Are you following all this?” Reese Dawson, the Vice President herself, asks me from across the table.
“I am,” I nod, looking around the table and offering a smile to the few anxious faces looking at me. There’s the Vice President, the Chief of Staff, and a few other members of the President’s inner circle, and they’re briefing me on the backstory I’m supposed to sell to the press. “I met Austin at a charity event two years ago and we started out as friends who knew each other through other mutual friends. After realizing how big of a heart Austin has, that friendship turned into something more … I didn’t want to be in the spotlight, and so Austin did his best to protect me from it. We’ve been dating on and off for a while but have grown closer and only after the latest scandal did Austin and I realize that what we needed in our lives was each other,” I repeat, summing up everything I’ve been told during the past hour. “I got this. Let’s just make sure that Austin can do his part.”
“He will,” Tracy tries to assure me, but she does that while looking at her wristwatch. You see, Austin was supposed to be here with us, but I guess he deemed himself too important to meet his faux fiancée on time. “He’ll be here soon, anyway,” Tracy continues, almost as if she could read my mind.
“Maybe he’s banging some intern,” I chuckle, letting the words out without a second thought. Hey, it’s not like I’m being mean; it’s very probable that Austin is really banging an intern. He wouldn’t be the first, anyway.
“Banging an intern,” Reese Dawns snorts, repeating my words under her breath and chuckling after me. Then, noticing that everyone is looking at her, she takes one clenched hand to her mouth and clears her throat, pretending she didn’t say a word.
I’m about to say another joke when the door to the meeting room swings open abruptly and President Bain steps through. He walks toward his seat at the head of the table, adjusting his cuff links as he goes.
“Glad to see you’re on board with this,” he tells me as he sits down, leaning back on his chair and grinning at me. What a smug asshole, not even a word of apology for coming in late. I guess that he’s more than used to doing what he wants, when he wants. Exactly the kind of man I’m used to luring into my traps, except this time, I’m part of the asshole’s team. I guess $50 million has helped hide my moral qualms out of sight.
“Tracy here was very persuasive,” I reply casually, offering him a cool stare. I don’t even bother with greeting him; if he thinks he’s above that, so am I.
“Good. It looks like she made the right choice with you,” he continues, talking to me as if we’re the only two people in the room. He’s looking me in the eyes, but I can tell that, somehow, the first thing he did when he entered the room was check me out. Not that I can blame him; I did exactly the same thing.
The moment he entered the room my eyes were drawn to him. To start with, it’s not everyday I get to see the President of the United States up close. Sure, I’m going to be playing a key role, and that means I’ll have to spend some time with him … but first impressions are always first impressions. And, hell, I gotta give it to him; he looks even better in the flesh than on TV.
No, I’m not changing my opinion. All I’m saying is that, even though he might be an egotistical asshole, he has the kind of looks capable of provoking a very physical reaction in a woman. Do I need to explain that one? I hope not.
Tailored suit, dominant posture, and arrogance as the cherry on top of the cake; Austin knows people think he’s the shit, and he behaves like it. Of course, it also helps that he’s extremely handsome. Not only is he the youngest President in the history of the United States, he’s probably the most ripped one. Seriously, he wouldn’t look out of place in a movie set, one where guys hang around shirtless while kicking the shit out of each other. Makes me wonder—did he win the elections because of his know-how, or because he looks good? No need to answer this one.
“So, you’ve been briefed on what’s expected of you,
right?” he asks me, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel a pleasant warmness spreading through my body as I hold his gaze; running my tongue between my lips, I give him a quick nod.
“Yes, I have.”
“Good,” he smiles, leaning back and crossing his legs. “We’ll keep this up for a year. Then you’ll be able to end our fake engagement by claiming I’m just too devoted to the country.”
“How noble of you,” I whisper, rolling my eyes and drumming my fingers on the table. “But one year? I was thinking of something more short-term.”
“No. Anything shorter than that and it won’t work. The public needs time to accept the President’s new image,” Tracy cuts in, her smart eyes going from me to Austin. “It’ll have to be one year.”
“If it’s going to be like that, I’m going to need a bonus. An extra $25 million will do it,” I say in a heartbeat. Tracy is about to protest the figure I’ve just thrown, but Austin doesn’t give her enough time for her to do so.
“Deal.”
“Also, if there’s any hint of a scandal with another woman… I’ll walk on the deal. And I’ll still expect to be paid.”
“Surely you’re not saying that --”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I shoot back, cutting Austin short. “No other women while our deal stands.”
“Jesus,” Austin whispers, pursing his lips and exhaling sharply. “I guess you’re right, though. The risk just isn’t worth it.” Looking at me for a moment of silence, he then opens up into a grin. “We have a deal then.”
“Good. Now, where’s my ring?” I grin back at him, raising my hand and waving my fingers at him. “A fiancée needs a ring. An expensive one.”