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“Really?”

“Really what?”

“When have you ever in your life done what you're told to do?”

My lips part, ready to spew another round of comebacks, but nothing comes. Slumping back against the wooden bench, I rub a hand through my hair.

“Never.”

Chapter Fifteen

Randi

“Iunderstand your words, Brad, I just don't agree with you,” I snap into the receiver at my lips. Thank fuck he can't see the look of absolute disgust and hate on my face right now. Not that I care too much about being diplomatic with this asshat, but I have to play nice or I’ll never get this bill pushed through the House.

“The housing bill you're proposing doesn't make sense. Why would we spend half a billion dollars renovating housing that isn’t turning a profit?”

The hard plastic slips in my sweaty palm at my tightening grip.

“Those people living in government-provided housing deserve these renovations. Those houses and apartment buildings I listed for renovations areyearsbehind in basic code compliance. They’re unsafe, and it’s time to do something about it.”

“It's a drain on society,” he shoots back.

Allowing my lids to flutter closed, I inhale deeply to keep from calling in a presidential favor to the CIA and ordering a hit on the moron I'm speaking with. How this asshat weaseled his way into the House majority seat, I'll never know.

“Get it through the House, Brad,” I grit out, “or our next conversation will be very different.”

Slamming the phone into the cradle, I shove the rolling chair away from the desk and stand to pace along the bay window.

That call was one of many this morning. Every politician in this city wants to make a deal; nothing is cut and dry. They offer support, but only if it will benefit them in the long run. Who knew being president was simply a high-paying sales job with the added stress of running the country.

A faint knock taps on the door.

Without turning, I call out over my shoulder for the person to enter. Even as the door pushes open, I don’t turn to see who it is. I already know.

Ben.

Again.

His constant, pestering presence is part of the stress overload problem I’m drowning in. Not that I mind him being here for Taeler or that I'm struggling with feelings toward him. Since he’s arrived, Ben has pressed the subject of us every chance he’s had me alone. For me, the chance of us getting back together closed in my mind, and heart, a very long time ago. At first it was annoying how he’s using Taeler’s pregnancy as a reason to be here, but now I’m fed up with the sideshow and ready for him to leave. Which he shows no signs of doing any time soon.

I’m in desperate need of silence. Peace. Even if for a measly three minutes. Three minutes of nothing, and maybe a cigarette. And Trey, if he can keep his mouth shut. Or busy. Smiling into the bright August sun pouring through the windows, I imagine all the ways I could keep his mouth busy. His lips gliding up my inner thigh, my back pinned to the wall—

“Hey, Rand,” Ben calls out behind me, stopping my dirty little daydream.

“What do you need, Ben?” I grumble over my shoulder but keep my focus on the tourists lining the fence along the back lawn. At his silence, I twist at the waist, searching the room for where he meandered. He’s standing on the seal in the middle of the room, his blue eyes latching on to mine.

“When did our conversations have to have a purpose?” Dimples dot his cheeks as he offers an impish smile.

“When you showed up unannounced and keep interrupting my workday to talk about the good old days.” The phone resting atop the desk shrills. “Listen, I have a call—”

“Yeah, I know you have another important call to make or take. Listen, I stopped by to see if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight.”

I freeze. “Dinner.”

“Yeah, you do remember what that is, don’t you? Two people, real plates, and actual food at a table that's meant for dining on.”

A corner of my lips twitches. “Smartass.” I don't have anything tonight, but I was also looking forward to doing just that—nothing. “I can't.”