Chapter 3 #2
“Oh, it’s just the two of us? I just knew I had to play submissive trophy wife tonight.” My words had Quincey chuckling as he peered at me over the wine list now covering half of his face.
“Submissive trophy wife, damn you make it sound like a bad ass title to own, Josie. I mean, you play the role so good. But nope, sorry to disappoint you, it’s just us.
This conversation is sensitive at the moment.
” His tone got serious at the end of his statement and had me shifting in my seat to sit up and lean over the table, getting as close as I could to whisper.
“Is everything okay?” Panic set in as my heart beat a million times a minute as the wildest thoughts ran rapidly through my mind, of course, going to the extreme first.
Oh shit, maybe this is the end. He’s tired of—
“Yes, well, I hope. It truly depends on how you feel about it. I mean, I know how I feel and I think this is the best news yet.”
I frowned just as our server greeted us.
“Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. We already have your preferred wine on standby unless something else interests you from the list. All are available in bottle tonight.”
Quincey looked at me and I shook my head, not focused on wine. Shit, if he knew how much I had today, he would be ordering nothing but water anyway.
“Tonight is special. Let’s try something new. Bring a bottle from Divine Vines—white, crisp, with a light sweetness.”
“Of course, sir.” I waited until the server was out of earshot before I shot my questions at Quincey who still wore a goofy smile.
“Special? Aight, you’re scaring me, Q. What the hell is going on?”
He grabbed my hand and said the words I knew he had groomed me for.
“A seat is opening.”
My eyes bugged. “Like a seat, seat?” All Quincey did was nod.
I looked around to make sure no one was close by before I pushed for more information because he wasn’t giving me shit.
“Wait, how do you know? How is that possible? Rogers just got in the seat last main election.”
“I can’t say too much because the official news hasn’t dropped, but you remember that shit he got caught up with late last year?”
“Yeah.”
Tim Rogers was a member of the Senate who got caught up in a nasty embezzlement scandal along with other things that would even have a common person going away for a long time.
“Well, they’re pushing for a resignation so it doesn’t get messy. Ya know, with the formal trial and all. Anyways, this is my—"
He cleared his throat, grabbing my hands tightly, bringing them to his mouth, kissing the back of each before he continued.
“Our chance to finally take what we’ve been working so hard for.”
“Wait, but I thought we were preparing for your regular reelection in Congress. How will this work?”
“That was the original plan when I flew to the Capitol, but when word started spreading about Rogers losing his position in the Senate, I knew it was now or never. Once they make the official announcement, we’ll switch gears.
I can’t submit my application for the seat until then, but that means, behind the scenes, more dinners, and kissing ass, all stuff needed to advance my name once it’s on the ballot come November. ”
“So it’ll be a regular election, just for a new…higher position? Elections will still be held later, like toward the end of my pageant season?”
“Maybe. It depends on how they decide to move with this one. It could be a special election or someone could be appointed. But yes, if it moves how I assume it will, toward the end of your season. Meaning, I’ll need you a lot more these upcoming months for parties, fundraisers, and events.
You might have to pull back on pageants if they get in the way of when you need to be by my side.
” I chuckled humorlessly, just as the server returned with our bottle of wine, opening it while I hadn’t stopped laughing.
Quincey’s glare sat on me, letting me know he wasn’t happy with my behavior in front of company, but I didn’t care.
The server poured and left in record time.
“Pull back? Yeah, no. Q, we agreed that my pageants would come first this year, since this was a regular re-election year for you. Just because you’ve made the decision to switch things when it’s already set in motion doesn't mean it changes for me. I want my crown this year.”
“Josie, seriously, I don’t give a damn about a pageant nor a crown.
You’re worried about your pageants as if being here wasn’t in preparation for this moment—my gotdamn moment.
And whatever changes I see fit to make will be made.
Now, like I said, if a competition—no, let me fix my words so we’re clear—or practice, because I know how that mind of yours works, honey.
If anything is on your schedule when we have an event I want you at, you will pull out.
Between you and Mama, all this pageant bullshit has gotten far too out of hand.
At some point y’all gon’ have to hang this shit up.
If you haven’t gotten the crown by now, obviously it ain’t happening.
” Quincey’s harsh tone rushed his statement out, cutting me deep inside. I gasped hard at his words.
“Well shit, tell me how you really feel about my job, Q.” I chuckled humorlessly as I shook my head.
When Quincey snorted, clearly amused, I should’ve prepared myself for his nasty comeback, but the sting came fast as hell, further killing my spirit.
“C’mon now, Josie. The word job is way off for what you and Mama do. Your pageants are an expensive hobby. Your job is being my gotdamn wife. It seems you keep forgetting that part of your job description though.” I shot up quickly, not even waiting for him to excuse me.
“Fuck you, Q.” My voice was low but cold as hell.
Quincey could be rough at times with his words but never had they hurt so bad.
I rushed to the restroom, going into the first available stall and letting my tears flow as I reminded myself that this was the life I’d chosen.
I made the vow till death did us part. Even when it meant never being completely happy.