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“Of course. Right.” I shake my head, feigning disappointment to not be the reason and embarrassed to have shown it.
Mine proves to be the correct reaction because Harding sits up just a little straighter. “Well. Shall we?” he asks as he picks up his fork.
We mainly make small talk during the meal. Strangely, no waitstaff returns. I sip my drink faster than I would a real one just to see what happens, but no offer is made to secure me another. When my glass is empty, Calvin reaches for the champagne, pouring me a glass.
I alternate between it and the water, wanting to remain sober. Halfway through dessert, I attempt to get the conversation back on track. “We got interrupted earlier. Though I was glad to hear from a new friend, I didn’t get to find out why you wanted to meet. Have you found a use for me? I don’t imagine I can be as helpful as your contact at the Pentagon, but I’m good at working with people’s emotions. Maybe I could help with speech writing.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Harding croons. “You are far more valuable than that. You’re just feeling a little lost right now. I get it. Believe me. I get it. You’d think being in Congress, a man would never be alone, but regardless of the number of people I deal with daily, I get lonely. People only see me as another rung on the ladder.”
“Oh, I’m not… Please, don’t think I’m_”
Harding rushes to pull his chair closer to mine and grabs both my hands. “I would never think that of you. Remember, it was me that called you, right? And instead of asking for something, you’re offering to help. I find that, and you, refreshing.”
I almost throw up in my mouth at the man’s insincerity. He’s a media whore who prefers the company of expensive escorts over that of his wife. The latter information is courtesy of Birdie, of course.
Harding begins drawing circles on the insides of my wrists, and I let out a little moan. As soon as I do, my eyes spring open at the phony slip. I clear my throat to cover the intended faux pas. “Um. I’ve been thinking about your contact at the Pentagon. In my head, I like to think it’s Admiral Jameson. He’s a good man and one I’d like to imagine spearheading the effort to rid the ranks of mercenaries.”
“My contact isn’t part of the Navy, but if the admiral is sympathetic, I’d love to make his acquaintance.”
It wasn’t much, but I’ve eliminated one branch so far. “Oh, I couldn’t say. I’d just like to think so. I don’t think the Navy has as much experience with the private military as the Army does. Is that the branch our hero works for?”
Harding stiffens at some of the praise shifting to another. “Yes, while it helps to have such a high-ranking connection, I’m afraid my friend doesn’t have the guts to fight this battle in the public arena.”
I let disgust color my voice when I say, “Another man more concerned about his career than doing what’s right. I’m glad you don’t suffer the same affliction.”
The congressman’s ego is restored, but unfortunately, he’s ready to move on. “I think it helps to let the world know what we’re fighting for. I believe it encourages our troops.”
“Absolutely. I’ve seen a difference in Jackson since Spain. When he was last home…”
My face falls, and Harding reaches over to lift my chin. I don’t recoil at his touch, though my skin is crawling. “It’s been difficult for you. Being alone all these years. It’s why you agreed to meet with me, isn’t it?”
I look away, close my eyes, and nod. “I feel so guilty, but having someone’s attention feels nice. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
Harding pulls my hands when I try to stand. “I’d rather you stay. Everyone deserves to feel cherished. I imagine you don’t get much of that with your husband being away so much.”
While I’m not surprised by his refusal to let me leave, I also fear I’ve lost control of the narrative. Harding’s not going to give me a name easily. I could keep trying, but there’s no guarantee he’ll give it up. And I don’t know how far I’d have to go to find out.
Promising myself not to go too far, I relax in my chair. Harding places a hand on my thigh, and I allow him to see me flinch. Maybe I can use this. His fingers massage lightly as they creep forward, and I pretend to ramble nervously to keep him distracted and talking. “H_how did you first decide to wade into this fight?”
Lifting his hand to my collarbone, Harding answers, “During a budget meeting. The two sides were arguing over how much was being paid to private military corporations.”
The hand at my collar wraps around my neck, and Harding brushes his lips across my cheek.
I let my fake nervous chatter continue, hoping he’ll let something slip while distracted with what he’s doing. “I’ll bet that was eye-opening. I assume CEOs were arguing pro, and military brass against?”
Fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress and nudge my thighs apart. Shit. I need to slow this down. “Wait. What about the waitstaff?”
Instead of backing down, Harding smirks. “I paid them extra to not disturb us for an hour. And no, plenty of uniforms argued for continued use of contractors.”
Harding allows my conversation, assuming I’m exorcising my reservations. I’m just glad it keeps him away from my mouth. “That’s unbelievable.”
“I took in the scene, noting those who were the staunchest opposers of the government’s use of private military. I sought out those men and formed an alliance.”
Harding shoves one of my straps off my shoulder, nearly exposing my left breast. About the same time, his fingers brush against my panties. My shudder is involuntary and not part of the act. I can’t do this.
I close my eyes in disgust as his mouth latches onto my neck. A tear leaks from my eye, and I whisper, “I’m glad you found someone you could trust.”
Jackson
