Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

Jax

I knew my behavior this morning could likely be classified as irrational, but there were times I couldn’t stop the overwhelming instinct to curl into myself and run away. Preston’s casual and unplanned announcement that he purchased a couch for him to sleep on brought those self-protection instincts out in me. Over the weekend, we worked on comms tasks, watched movies, and spent more time getting comfortable being around each other. And then at night... I couldn’t bring myself to admit I liked waking up with his warmth near me because we were two professionals, helping each other out, nothing more. But at the same time, I couldn’t stop the hurt feelings that emerged from hearing his eagerness to sleep away from me.

It’s been three fucking nights. Get a grip, Jacqueline, I thought. I knew it was serious whenever I full named myself in my own head.

After the world’s longest shower, I emerged into an empty apartment as requested. Guilt immediately flooded my system. This was the first workday of our new arrangement. What had Preston given up by leaving this morning?

The weekend hadn’t allowed us any time to learn each other’s typical routines. You know, the things normal couples pick up on during months and years of dating. We hadn’t even left the apartment to go grocery shopping. What did Preston eat for breakfast in the morning? Did he pack a lunch or eat out most days?

So many things were uncertain. After years of doing everything I could to avoid the uncertainty of my adolescence, the instability of how Preston and I related to each other tied my stomach in knots. I placed my hand there, almost as if I could feel my guts roiling in revolt through my skin. As usual, the coffee ended up being a poor choice, but it had been so nice for Preston to bring it to me.

I took my time getting ready. I unearthed a meditation app from my phone and emerged from the apartment more centered and levelheaded than I had started the day. Maybe the couch wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. In the light of day, I could see that giving us some space from each other may have its benefits. Four hundred square feet was not a ton of space for two people used to functioning on their own.

The sun warmed the February air to unseasonably mild temperatures, though the flush of Preston’s cheeks when he had returned from the café told me the day didn’t start this way. The walk from Preston’s building went quickly as the blue sky provided hope that spring was around the corner in the nation’s capital.

I took a deep breath and straightened my interview suit as I opened the outer door to the senator’s offices. It was earlier than Preston and I arranged to meet. I hoped we’d have a chance to clear the air before my interview. The security guard recognized me from my press days, and once he saw my name on the list of approved visitors, he let me go right up. Laurel sat at her desk at the front and greeted me with a large smile.

“Jax! It’s so good to see you. Do you have lunch plans after this? We should really get lunch.” Her blue eyes sparkled with humor and insider knowledge. I couldn’t help myself from smiling back at her and answering with a slight laugh in my voice. “Um, I’m not sure what my plans for lunch are.”

“I’m hoping you’ll have lunch with your fiancé to celebrate, and maybe, if she’s nice, the annoying interloper can join us,” Preston said, appearing from the hallway. Laurel scoffed at being called an interloper, but otherwise didn’t press. Her eyes darted back and forth between Preston and me. The tension between us was thick with the awkward way we had left—okay, I made him leave—things this morning.

“I think we shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves, but if things go well, a celebratory lunch sounds nice,” I said, flashing Preston a genuine smile. I watched his shoulders release a few inches, relieved he picked up on the apology laced in my response. I didn’t dare be more opaque out in the open.

“Ms. Carter,” Senator Marsden greeted us, appearing from the same hallway Preston had moments before. “It’ll be so nice to chat with you in a professional capacity. Are you ready now?”

I took his extended hand in a firm shake, not wincing when he squeezed tighter than was politely acceptable. Fine, let’s do it this way, cis white man. The one part of being a reporter I enjoyed was eating the egos of men like him for breakfast. I could certainly handle coddling one for a few months, especially for a paycheck.

“I’m looking forward to it, Senator Marsden.” I smiled at Laurel and Preston as I followed the senator into his office. He shut the door behind me and gestured to the chair facing his desk. Unsurprisingly, he sat on the other side of the huge wooden monstrosity. Some might think the senator was compensating for something, but I thought it more likely his self-assuredness emanated in part from Big Dick Energy.

“So, Jacqueline, tell me”—the senator put my resume down on his desk after a few moments of silence—“are you applying for this job undercover in your capacity as a reporter, looking to make a fool out of me and my Chief of Staff?”

I had to appreciate his straight shooting. His eyes narrowed as a grin crossed my face, but I couldn’t help it. The man understood the political game better than some of his colleagues who had been in office for multiple decades.

“No, sir, that would be incredibly unethical.” He opened his mouth to say more, but I kept going. “Not that unethical behavior is out of the ordinary here on the Hill. But that’s not my game.” Senator Marsden looked slightly impressed I hadn’t cowered at his interruption.

“I may not play nice, but ethics are incredibly important to me. Brandt out there doesn’t have an unethical bone in his body, and I’m not sure he could sense one in someone else, especially if his dick is involved.” The senator leveled me with a cool, steely look that raised my hackles.

“Preston is a great man, and his ethics will make him a great politician one day. You’re lucky to have him. I know you know that, and honestly, you should start acting like it once in a while.”

He raised one eyebrow at me. “You’re a loyal one, aren’t you?”

I held tight to the arms of my chair to stop myself from crossing my arms and going completely on the defensive. “I suppose I am.”

Senator Marsden leaned forward on the desk, folding his arms and leaning his weight on them. “Ethics and loyalty are the most important aspects I look for in an employee. I know you can do this job—I’ve read your stuff. You’re a good writer, you get to the heart of the issue, and you’re not afraid to go for the jugular. It’s a style similar to my own.” He appraised me for a moment longer. “And you’re right. I do know how lucky I am to have Brandt working for me. That’s the reason you’re here. I don’t want to wring him out before he ever gets to launch his own run. He’ll be good for his people. I’m an asshole, but not a monster.”

I nodded. “Your record speaks for itself. I wouldn’t consider working for you if you didn’t get things done that I care about.”

The senator sat back in his chair, tilting toward the back wall. “Anything else I need to know before we make this thing official?”

This certainly made a case for the most hostile, but most casual, interview I’d ever experienced. My mind flashed to Mark’s email, letting me know I had been let go. I didn’t want to tell this man any of my secrets, but I also couldn’t blindside him, and thereby Preston, if Peggy Rappencourt came calling again.

“I have another job. It’s freelance. I’m my own boss and operate under a different name. It shouldn’t interfere with my work here. The nature of that work is empowering to women and, at times explicit, which could raise the hackles of some of your political opponents.”

“Are you on OnlyFans?”

My mind replayed what I said, and I barked out a laugh, recognizing how he got there.

“Your time is your business,” the senator said, throwing his hands up in the air. “As long as it’s safe, legal, and consensual, I don’t care how people make their money. I’m just not big on surprises.”

“I’m not on OnlyFans, but respect the hell out of people who are,” I responded. “I’m a romance author,” I said, raising my own eyebrow back at him, waiting for the usual scoff that often accompanied the genre.

To my surprise, he only nodded. “That explains this whirlwind engagement shit you and Brandt have going on. I don’t have space in my life for that fluff, but if you believe in love and can make a living on it, good for you.”

Senator Marsden and I were more alike than I would ever admit out loud. Of course, I believed in love, but for others, not for me. I had been alone too long and lost too many important people to risk opening my heart again.

“Well, Laurel will get you the paperwork, and I’ll get Brandt to send you all the reading you’ll need. Get caught up today and be ready to work tomorrow.” The senator stood up, breaking me out of my thoughts, buttoned his suit jacket, and opened the door. He stood beside it, clearly ready to move on with his day.

“Thank you, sir,” I said as I exited, and he nodded, his eyes meeting mine. In the brief moment, I knew he recognized parts of himself in me as well.

“And Ms. Carter, make sure you leave any drama with Brandt at home. There’s no place for it here.”

I rolled my eyes as I walked away, somewhat relieved to have the asshole back in full force and we could move on with the status quo.

I knocked on the wall of Preston’s cubicle, unable to stop the smile that spread on my face when he looked up and just looked happy to see me.

“So?” he asked, standing from his desk.

“I guess we need to agree on a place to go for lunch,” I answered, smiling back.

“I never had any doubts.” Preston enveloped me in a hug. While his arms wrapped around me, something twinged in my gut at how much I liked telling someone my good news. A good, but dangerous, feeling.

“Well, I never thought we’d need an office PDA policy because of you, Preston. Strange things happen every day.” Laurel appeared behind us, her tone teasing.

“And because of that, you’re definitely not invited to lunch,” Preston said, releasing me, but kept his hand on my back. It already seemed like second nature to him to be touching me. The twinging intensified.

“Lunch?” Senator Marsden came out to join our little group. “Not today, Brandt. I need you with me at the weekly committee briefing. Hopefully, they’ll have tuna salad, your favorite.” As quickly as he appeared, he left again, exiting the office suite.

“I hate tuna salad,” Preston grumbled. I made a mental note, trying not to smile at his annoyed face.

“I can still grab lunch with you if you want?” Laurel leaned against the doorjamb, her smile genuine and inviting.

“Thanks, but I think I need to get home and get reading, so I’m ready to start tomorrow. Plus, we have that couch delivery happening this afternoon. Right, sweetie?” Preston tensed beside me. Was it the sweetie or the couch that got that reaction? “But definitely lunch, or maybe even drinks after work, another time soon,” I said, directing my gaze at Laurel.

“Drinks, yes, absolutely. We’ll go to Union Pub, get you all anointed into the Senate staffer culture. I’ll go get your paperwork together so you can take that home too.” With that, Laurel flounced back to her desk.

“Are you sure you’re okay waiting for the couch delivery?” Preston asked once Laurel was out of earshot. “I know you were questioning the... color we went with.” His eyes searched mine.

“I think you were right about the color,” I said firmly, but gently. “It’ll go really well in the space.”

Preston nodded, his face suddenly unreadable. “I paid extra to have them take the old couch out too, so it should be pretty simple, but call me if you need anything. I’ll email you all the documents you’ll need for your afternoon reading assignment.”

“That’ll be great. I’ll see you tonight.” I turned to walk to Laurel’s desk, pausing at the doorway. “Maybe we can go grocery shopping tonight? Or at least do a grocery delivery order?” Even though I knew we needed the space the couch would provide, I still wanted to know things about this man. What type of yogurt did he eat? Did he have a preferred type of bread or a favorite pasta shape? Did he even ever eat at home?

“That sounds great, Jax. I’ll see you at home.”

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