Chapter Ten
Darcy
Itap my pen against my wooden desk.
Hayden didn’t come in to work today.
I found out about her absence by formal email instead of the text she usually sends when she’ll be out of the office for the day.
It has to be because she still thinks I want to marry her.
I heard her loud and clear when she kept repeating that she didn’t say yes to me, but I didn’t say anything because of how unsure her voice sounded.
It was almost as if she wanted to say yes but something was stopping her. So, I let it ride.
That’s what I get for not communicating my thoughts properly as my mother always tried to teach me.
The door opens, and Ren walks in.
“Two days in a row. I feel pretty special right now,” I jest, lightening my own mood. Who else will do it for me?
“You’re always my special person, Darcy-kun.
” Ren sits on the edge of my desk, ruffling a stack of papers.
A warning snarl ripples from my throat. He laughs and relocates to the perfectly comfortable seat in front of the desk.
My desk is…my space. I don’t like people behind it, on it, or even touching it.
It’s organized down to the grouping of pen color and tip styles.
There are some things in life a person can control, and I choose to control everything I possibly can.
It lessens the sting when uncontrollable things arise.
“I wanted to check on you in person, and I was on my way to a meeting.”
“You have a meeting in my neighborhood?”
Ren smiles, all teeth. “Nope. This was completely out of my way.”
A warmth stirs in my chest, and I am grateful for this one person in my life who cares. Sheesh, Darcy. Get out of your heart and back into your head.
“That was unnecessary.”
He shrugs and slumps into the chair, legs splayed.
“How are you after last night? Did anything happen with Hayden on the ride home?” He lowers his voice when he mentions her name. He had stayed back and caught a ride with his father.
I, however, go red with embarrassment at the mention of her name. I can’t believe I actually asked my campaign manager to marry me. And then I reiterated over and over that I was serious. That I don’t joke.
Which I don’t, and she knows that, hence the embarrassing situation.
“No. I let her off the hook.” Not the best choice of words, but my pride is in jeopardy after the way she so adamantly turned me down last night. I’ve never thought of myself much as a ladies’ man, but I also know I have my name, wealth, and much more to offer a woman.
“So that’s how it went down, huh?” Ren snorts. “Whatever you say, my friend.”
Ren Sato, the man who reads me like an open book with a sixteen-point font.
“Gosh, this reminds me of when Anna May turned you down as her date to the school dance. You were brooding for weeks.”
Is it bad that the memory still stings a bit? Like a week-old burn. I don’t like rejection.
“You’re too prideful for your own good, but it’s okay. I still love you, Darcy-kun.”
“Just leave if all you’re going to do is rehash old memories and taunt me.” I run my hands through my hair, then check my watch. “I’ve actually got a meeting to attend in about ten minutes.”
“Okay, my wounded puppy. Go lick your wounds before your meeting. Let’s have a drink tomorrow night.”
“My Fridays don’t look like your Fridays, Ren,” I say, picking up my agenda for the day.
I can tell Hayden was not the one to type it out by the way the bullet points are regular, round points instead of a different design.
Every day, she uses something new. A sun, a star, an arrow.
But never the classic dot. I miss her schedules.
“I just happen to know you have tomorrow evening free.” Ren bows his head. "Hayden told me yesterday." Then he is out the door.
Do I have tomorrow evening free?
Checking my calendar, I realize I do.
What did Hayden Bennett do to make this magic happen?
Another knock at the door.
“Come in,” I say.
“Are you ready for the meeting?” my personal assistant, Bennie, asks.
I nod, grab my coat, and follow him out the door.
We wind through the hallways until we enter the conference room where my team waits for me.
It’s our weekly Thursday Debrief meeting before the weekend comes where we share updates, review polls, and talk strategy.
We do this on Mondays too, but I much prefer the Thursday meetings because we get to review our successes and failures of the week. It’s productive, informative, and…
“Sorry I’m late!”
Hayden’s voice turns me into a block of ice.
Or a blazing fire?
Can a person feel cold and sweaty at the same time? Maybe I have a fever.
“Oh, Hayden. Thank goodness you’re back.” Paul, the one redhead on my team, breathes a heavy sigh of relief. “Trying to be you and me is a difficult task.”
Hayden laughs. “I know the feeling. Trying to be me and Stella for a month nearly did me in.”
“Now I feel bad. I only had to be you for half a day.”
“Being me is going to get exponentially more difficult,” she says, her eyes finding mine.
I swallow and command everyone to take their seats.
“Let’s begin with polling. What is the current data?
” It’s not that I don’t know the trends, but polls can update at any given moment depending on where you pull numbers from.
And the last time I checked was last night when I got home after dinner.
Mainly, I was obsessively googling my name to make sure nothing leaked from last night’s dinner fiasco.
Translation: I wanted to make sure the media never caught wind that I was having a fling with my campaign manager. It’s still odd to me that Mr. Loveless didn’t leak pictures. He must have something up his sleeve.
After Hanson, my polling executive, debriefs us, letting me know I am beating Richard Loveless within the conservative sphere in more liberal states while losing to him in traditionally more conservative states, we move into discussing campaign stops.
Most everything is planned in that department as we had to strategize our route ages ago, but now we are simply checking in on the little details.
Hayden is detail-oriented. She may look and act like a hurricane bottled in a jar, but she pays attention to what’s important and knows how to finesse any situation.
Alongside Stella, they planned the route we would take.
Our “Route to Victory” as they called it.
And so far, it’s been more successful than anything I could have dreamt up.
I watch her eyes light up as she talks about lineups and merchandise at the upcoming rallies.
Her smile inches wider and wider with every passing moment she rambles on about the inner workings of the stage placement and timing to music.
Technically, those things are not in her job description, but she enjoys them nonetheless, so she works with event planners quite a bit to create successful and engaging rallies to promote my candidacy for president.
The vibrancy in her voice draws a small smile out of me, and for a moment, I’m filled with immense pride to have her as my campaign manager.
And there it is. That’s why I proposed to Hayden.
She’s an unstoppable force when it comes to this world I live in, and she’d make a great companion.
If I can trust her to help me win the presidency, I can trust her to walk beside me through it.
Marriage doesn’t have to be about love, but it must always be about trust and respect.
“Mr. Marshall?” My name in her sing-song voice captures my attention.
“Mm?” I snap my eyes to hers. That smile that’s not really a smile because she’s trying to hide it appears, and her eyes practically dance. Why does she love taunting me after catching me having thoughts about her? Does it give her a serotonin boost to embarrass me?
Her heels click with every step she takes toward me. She stands beside me now, and the heat radiating from her nearness makes my palms clammy.
“What do you think of the idea?” She cocks her head to the side as I meet her gaze.
She hovers over me as I typically do her, and the corner of her lip twitches.
I swivel my chair so that my body is facing hers, trying to rack my brain for any hint of the conversation happening before I lost my thoughts to what a successful pairing me and Hayden could be in the political world.
Especially when she wears this black and white plaid skirt with a slit on the side and black stockings. ..
Eyes up, Darcy! What is wrong with you?
Before I realize what’s happening, Hayden leans down, placing her mouth at my ear.
Sucking in a breath, I’m filled with her soft, floral scent and decide it’s best not to breathe right now.
Not after staring too long at her legs. She exhales a puff of air, and it tickles my neck.
But it doesn’t stop there. The weird sensation travels down my spine, filling me with angst and…
pleasure? Her breathing is shaky as she whispers one word, “Yes.”
My legs move of their own accord, catapulting me out of my seat. Hayden stumbles backward on her heels, but I reach out with one hand and grab her waist and pull before she tumbles to the ground. Her chest connects with my own, and I tighten my hold to keep her steady.
The last thing I need is a broken campaign manager.
“You are no longer allowed to wear heels,” I attempt to tease her, though my voice sounds harsh.
“Must wear dresses, but can’t wear heels.” She clicks her tongue as she narrows her eyes. “Got it.”
I smile, trying to let her know I was joking, but then I remember what she said and holy smokes!
“You said yes?” I search her deep brown eyes for any trace of humor or amusement. Instead, I realize gold flecks circle her irises, and it’s mesmerizing.
She nods her head once, and my heart takes off.
Not because I love her and it’s the happiest moment of my life, but because a weight that’s been sitting on my shoulders, compressing down continuously, has finally been lifted.
“Yes,” I repeat the word. For a moment, I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them. She’s still here, in my arms, and…
In my arms.
A throat clears, and I suddenly have the need to build a tiny house halfway underground and live my life as a very tall hobbit. My whole team is watching me embrace her.
I shove Hayden away from me, and she stumbles over her heels before catching herself against the table.
She smooths down the front of her tantalizing skirt. Maybe I should ban that instead of her heels.
“I’m sorry,” I hurriedly state. Those words are getting easier to say with practice, though I don’t know if that’s a good thing. That I have to say it so often.
“It’s fine,” she mumbles.
“Hayden, can I see you outside for a moment?” I don’t dare look around at my team, though the silence seems to broadcast their every thought.
The boss has a thing for Hayden?
Is this appropriate?
A secret political affair?
Should we say anything?
“Of course, Mr. Marshall.” Her smile is biting and tone sarcastic.
I turn on my heel and walk out of the conference room, already heading for my private nook. Her heels echo behind me.
We arrive at the door, and I hold it open for her to pass through.
“Don’t shove me to the floor from behind,” she says with squinted eyes, passing me by and entering the room.
Why did it have to be the most obnoxious, stubborn woman that I fell in trust with?
“This will be a long eight years if you keep up that attitude.” I close the door and turn around to Hayden seated in my chair like she owns it. She smirks, crossing one leg over the other and tapping her fingers in unison against the forearms of my chair.
“Oh, Mr. Marshall. The fun is just beginning.”
I bend at the waist to look her dead in the face. The close contact and prolonged eye contact have me a bit squirmy, but I press on hoping she’s feeling the same uneasiness. “In that case, call me Darcy.”
She’s not getting out now.