Chapter 46. Lennix #2
“That you don’t have to worry about,” I tell him with a smile.
The door opens, and Millicent and the twins stand there.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.
“No, we’re just wrapping up.” I look to Owen. “Kimba and I and the whole team are here for you. Let us know if you need anything. We have about ten minutes before you’ll take the stage.”
When I return to the main room, I check with our producer that the cameras are set up and ready to record Owen’s announcement. We’ll push it out on social media immediately.
I glance up and find Maxim’s eyes set on me.
It’s a cool night in San Francisco, but when our gazes connect, a blast of heat covers my entire body.
His eyes leave mine to fall over me—my breasts and hips and thighs, all the way to my feet.
He takes his time retracing the path back up and over each dip and curve until he’s looking into my eyes again.
I don’t nod or smile, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
He emanates power—the physical power of his muscles and strong body subdued by the expensive clothing made to mold his form.
He carries a magnetic aura that draws senators, congressmen, ambassadors—all want a piece of him for the wealth he’s acquired and the influence he wields.
There’s the power of his mind, that sharp tool he’s honed to build an empire from scratch without his father’s assistance through a series of risks only a buccaneer would hazard.
And finally, there’s the power he seems to have over me—a visceral, personal force that knows how to tempt me, that fascinates and mesmerizes me.
All the others he’s carefully cultivated, but the power he holds over me, I think it’s effortless.
His assistant tugs on his arm, drawing his attention away, and I take the opportunity to move as if released from a trance.
“Biggest night of the campaign so far,” I mutter to myself, “and you’re mooning over the candidate’s brother.”
When the moment arrives, it’s obvious Owen was made for it. He takes the stage, his wife and twins standing with him.
“I want to thank all of you for coming tonight,” he says with a smile that encompasses the entire room. “I’m sure you had a dozen places you could have been to bring in the New Year, but you chose to be here with my family and me.”
He turns to the right where we have strategically grouped most of the college leaders. I look to the back of the room and catch our producer’s eye, silently signaling him to make sure we get all those young, eager faces on camera for B-roll later. He nods and speaks into his headset.
“And a special thanks to all the young leaders who came on buses, trains, in caravans from all across the country to be with us tonight.” Owen gestures to the cluster of students who, as I knew they would, cheer as loudly as if Owen is scoring a touchdown instead of making a political speech.
“Your energy and foresight and compassion are the things that will secure our future. I just hope we old folks don’t screw it up too badly before you get it. ”
More cheers, and Kimba and I put our heads close together to whisper, identifying which of them it will be good to get reactions from after the announcement.
“When I started in the Senate ten years ago, I had that same energy and enthusiasm for getting things done,” Owen says, a rueful grin tipping one side of his mouth.
“It’s easy to lose sight of our dreams and of the things that motivated us to public service in the first place when we get trapped in bureaucracy and political infighting.
Being around you reminds me why it’s so important we never stop striving for the best of ourselves and of this country.
“Many of you may have heard rumors of my possible presidential run,” he says with a chuckle. “I know. Rumors in DC? Hard to believe. I’m confirming tonight that I have formed a presidential exploratory committee.”
The room erupts and the energy skyrockets.. Even the more staid partygoers seem to be affected by the youthful enthusiasm the students emit.
“If we get this much juice from the exploratory committee announcement,” Kimba says from the corner of her brightly painted mouth, “imagine when he announces that he’s actually running.”
I nod my agreement, about to speak when I notice Maxim standing against the wall watching me. Before I realize what I’m doing, I take a step in his direction.
“Lenn,” Kimba says, jerking my attention away from Maxim and halting my steps. “Mark wants you in the back.”
By the time I speed walk to the back and answer the producer’s questions, Owen is wrapping up.
“So over the next few months,” Owen says, “my team, my family, and I will continue to kick the tires and see how far this should go.”
The students start chanting, “ALL THE WAY! ALL THE WAY!”
Owen smiles and holds up his hand to quiet the crowd so he can land the plane.
“There’s a lot ahead,” he says. “We hope soon to herald in a new era of politics in this, our great nation. Tonight, though, we’re heralding a new year .
Grab a glass of champagne and find the ones you want to be closest to.
I’ll be back in a few minutes to count in another great year. Thank you again for coming.”
I search the crowded room for Maxim, finding him still leaning on the wall with his arms folded, the ambassador’s daughter stuck to his side like flypaper. My hands ball into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms.
“Just staring,” Kimba says from beside me, “won’t get him.”
I didn’t even notice her come up, I was so fixated on them.
“What?” I drag my eyes away from the two glamorous people across the room, him a dark contrast to her fairness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Lenn,” Kimba says, her usual no-nonsense tone somewhat gentled. “This is your girl. Talk to me.”
For a moment, I plan to ignore the frank sympathy in my best friend’s eyes, to tough it out and pretend I’m not in the midst of some kind of existential crisis, but I’m tired of holding this armor in place. It’s slipping anyway.
“He asked for another chance,” I say after a pause. “Maxim, he said he was young and stupid and made a mistake before. He asked me to forgive him.”
Kimba nods slowly, dipping her head to catch my lowered eyes. “And have you forgiven him?”
My laugh comes quick and hollow. “Well, yeah. I guess somewhere along the way, I did.”
“Praise Jesus. I was gonna give you ’til the end of this campaign, honey, and then smack some sense into you.”
“That won’t be necessary. At least, I don’t think so.” I glance across the room where he stands with the Russian princess. “If he’s even still interested.”
“Oh, he’s interested.” Kimba follows my stare. “He’s a patient man.”
“Not really,” I say with a laugh. “Quite the opposite, but he’s trying.”
“Then why keep him waiting? Talk to him. Tell him tonight.”
I glance at my watch. “The toast is in ten minutes.”
“The hard part is over for now. Owen’ll come back and do the countdown and then the New Year’s Eve toast.”
“And then the CNN interview,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes up to Millie’s glittering chandelier and expels a lengthy sigh. “Screw it. I’ll do the interview.”
I press the back of my hand to her forehead.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her expression puzzled.
“Checking for fever.”
Her laugh is hearty. “You better go get that man before I change my mind.”
“You sure?”
“Girl, what’d I say?”
“Thank you.” I smile and loop my arms around her neck. “Happy New Year.”
I draw a deep breath and cross the room toward Maxim, growing more confident with each step. It seems to take forever, but finally I’m standing right in front of him. He glances up, his posture indolent, his hands in his pockets, but his eyes are sharp and questioning.
I don’t look at the beautiful blond standing next to him but address him directly.
“How do I get rid of her?” I ask, borrowing his question about Wallace that day in the coffee shop.
She gasps and then chuckles, surprising me into glancing at her. She really is exquisite. Her brown eyes are amused, not offended, and her smile is natural and blinding.
Maxim tips his head to the side, watching me. “Katya, could you give us a minute?”
“Of course,” Katya says, her accent thick and sexy. “Also, I told you. I knew what I was doing.”
Conversations continue around us, but we stare at each other for seconds that stretch into a minute.
“What did she mean?” I finally ask. “When she said she knew what she was doing?”
A small smile crooks his full lips. “She thought I should make you jealous.”
“Why would she… How does she know me?”
“She doesn’t.” He sketches a casual shrug with his broad shoulders. “She wanted to suck my dick, and I said no.”
My teeth clench, and I swallow around the painful lump in my throat. “Why’d you say no?”
“Because I don’t want anyone sucking my dick but you.”
My eyes snap up to meet his, and they’re completely serious. There’s no sign of humor. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” I ask.
“The garden.” He tips his head toward a large set of French doors. “Through there.”
I nod, and he pushes off the wall, grabs my hand, and leads me across the room and through the door. I hope the press of bodies hides our clasped hands. I don’t need any rumors getting started or to field dumb questions from snoopy journalists bored with politics and looking for more.
Once outside, we’re swallowed by shadows. He’s just an intimidating silhouette. I’d know the shape of him, his scent anywhere, but what do I really know about this man asking me to trust him on a new adventure? One that risks not just something of his but of mine?
My heart.
He pulls me deeper into the garden until a tall hedge of bushes shelters us on every side.
We’ve entered a maze of sorts and continue a few yards more until we reach a small stone bench.
He sits and leans back, supporting his weight with his hands flattened on the bench and his arms stretched straight.