Page 7
Story: Commander
“I said only my lover could say that name. You are my lover, Tara.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine.
“Not yet.”
“Soon. I’ve kept to our bargain but know this: once we’re together, you’ll crave me as much as I crave you. Sex was the only thing we got right.”
The desire lacing his words made my skin tingle and a pulse of need flare to life.
“Don’t you have a country to run? Stop thinking about sex and get back to work.”
“I’m good at multitasking.” He chuckled, bringing a smile to my lips. He rarely, if ever, laughed.
After we’d broken up, Ashur had turned down his position in Kumar Technologies, the billion-dollar software firm his father owned, and joined the Air Force and then deployed to Afghanistan. By the time he returned from his second tour, he was a changed man. The easy-to-smile boy had disappeared, replaced by a too-focused man who only saw things in black and white, right and wrong.
“Was there a reason you called, Mr. President? I’m positive clothing details are the last things you’re concerned with.”
“Did I tell you that I enjoyed our discussion the other day?”
“You mean the one where you said I was too much of a bleeding-heart liberal to understand the nuances of the costs associated with implementing the immigration bill with the provisions the Democrats wanted?”
Another laugh sounded over the line. “Yes, that one. I wanted to say thank you.”
I shifted the phone to my other ear. “For what?”
The last thing I’d expect was a thank-you for a discussion that had turned so heated I’d walked out.
“For giving me a sounding board and a perspective that was different from mine.”
“Oh.”
“It helped me compromise today, and instead of an eight-hour meeting as scheduled, it was only three.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help.”
“Maybe one day I can return the favor.”
Before I could respond, a voice called out to Ashur, and he sighed.
“I have to go. See you tonight for the parental gathering.”
“I’m going to have a cocktail or two before I get there.”
“So will I. So will I.”
“Goodbye, Ashur.”
“Goodbye, First Lady.” He hung up.
I shook my head. That man could be cold and emotionless one minute and then flirty and sweet the next.
We’d been polar opposites from the beginning. Although we had one particular thing in common—our mutual dread of being in the same room with Ashur’s father. Minesh Kumar was unpleasant on a good day. When he was in a piss-poor mood, people considered jumping from a window to escape the drama.
I stuffed my phone back in my bag and turned the corner to the private dressing area in Shawna’s store that was reserved for all her VIP clients.
“Hey there.” Samina Kumar-Camden greeted me and then handed me a glass of champagne. Sam, as we liked to call her, was my law partner in our Seattle firm, the junior senator from Washington state, and my sister-in-law.
“I so needed this. Where is everyone?”
His words sent a shiver down my spine.
“Not yet.”
“Soon. I’ve kept to our bargain but know this: once we’re together, you’ll crave me as much as I crave you. Sex was the only thing we got right.”
The desire lacing his words made my skin tingle and a pulse of need flare to life.
“Don’t you have a country to run? Stop thinking about sex and get back to work.”
“I’m good at multitasking.” He chuckled, bringing a smile to my lips. He rarely, if ever, laughed.
After we’d broken up, Ashur had turned down his position in Kumar Technologies, the billion-dollar software firm his father owned, and joined the Air Force and then deployed to Afghanistan. By the time he returned from his second tour, he was a changed man. The easy-to-smile boy had disappeared, replaced by a too-focused man who only saw things in black and white, right and wrong.
“Was there a reason you called, Mr. President? I’m positive clothing details are the last things you’re concerned with.”
“Did I tell you that I enjoyed our discussion the other day?”
“You mean the one where you said I was too much of a bleeding-heart liberal to understand the nuances of the costs associated with implementing the immigration bill with the provisions the Democrats wanted?”
Another laugh sounded over the line. “Yes, that one. I wanted to say thank you.”
I shifted the phone to my other ear. “For what?”
The last thing I’d expect was a thank-you for a discussion that had turned so heated I’d walked out.
“For giving me a sounding board and a perspective that was different from mine.”
“Oh.”
“It helped me compromise today, and instead of an eight-hour meeting as scheduled, it was only three.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help.”
“Maybe one day I can return the favor.”
Before I could respond, a voice called out to Ashur, and he sighed.
“I have to go. See you tonight for the parental gathering.”
“I’m going to have a cocktail or two before I get there.”
“So will I. So will I.”
“Goodbye, Ashur.”
“Goodbye, First Lady.” He hung up.
I shook my head. That man could be cold and emotionless one minute and then flirty and sweet the next.
We’d been polar opposites from the beginning. Although we had one particular thing in common—our mutual dread of being in the same room with Ashur’s father. Minesh Kumar was unpleasant on a good day. When he was in a piss-poor mood, people considered jumping from a window to escape the drama.
I stuffed my phone back in my bag and turned the corner to the private dressing area in Shawna’s store that was reserved for all her VIP clients.
“Hey there.” Samina Kumar-Camden greeted me and then handed me a glass of champagne. Sam, as we liked to call her, was my law partner in our Seattle firm, the junior senator from Washington state, and my sister-in-law.
“I so needed this. Where is everyone?”
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