Page 84
Story: Power Twist
Todd steps in my path, pressing the heels of his palms to my shoulders. “This could ruin you, Randi. I don't want to see you get mixed up with the wrong people.” Wrapping his fingers around my arms, he rubs his soft hands up and down in a comforting gesture. “The attorney general and Department of Justice, they're circling, looking for who knows what.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My breaths quicken as I fight the urge to yank free of his grasp. Between it being him and my avoidance to touch, I'm a hairbreadth from screaming.
Sarah's latest training session snaps to the forefront of my mind. With my free hand, I snake my arm around his and grip his shoulder before using the angle to twist him around, slamming his chest to the wall.
“Don't you ever touch a woman without her consent, do you hear me, Todd?” Relaxing my grip, I step back and smooth out my dress in case the scuffle caused the material to ruffle. “Now, I'm going to get my drink, and you're going to keep your mouth shut on what you know. It's not what you think. I can trust them. More than I can you, actually. So don't you act all chivalrous in trying to manage my friends list. I'll see you next month for the G-20 summit.”
Without looking back, I stride down the hall. Cutting the corner into the lively party, I nearly smack into Trey.
“Hey,” I huff and make to skirt around him toward the bar, only for him to match my steps, preventing me from passing by.
“Nicely handled, Madam Vice President. Sarah will be proud.”
I pause my attempt to sneak around him. Tilting my chin, I get lost in his beautiful brown eyes that are staring down into mine adoringly.
“Thanks,” I say with a small smile playing at my lips.
“What did you and Jessica talk about?” he asks as he takes a step closer, putting us nearly chest to chest as a waiter passes by with a tray full of tiny hors d’oeuvres. Seriously, why do they think this fancy food is impressive? Why not have a full tray of fried cheese sticks or potato skins? Now that kind of appetizer I can get behind. These fancy caterers need to take a hint from Applebee’s and adjust their menus.
“You, me, you two as a couple.” Saying the words leaves an ache in my chest.
“Please tell me you didn't tell her the plan.”
“Of course I didn't,” I snap. Tipping the highball glass back, I knock an ice cube into my mouth. “Trey,” I say hesitantly, “there's something I need to tell you.”
Almost like he can read me, knows the words I want to say, his facial features soften with a shy smile.
“Not here, Mess. Later, when it's just you and me.”
Swallowing back my rising emotions, I clear my throat and force a smile. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good. So, are you coming—”
“There you are, honey.”
My shoulders tense at the fakeness in the voice, and the earlier love and adoration shining through Trey’s face shutters closed, leaving behind a blank expression. Looking over my shoulder, I keep my features neutral.
She's beautiful, no doubt. Perfection personified. Plump lips pressed into a tight-lipped smile, thin delicate nose that no one is born with, and just enough filler to make her years younger. It’s when I catch her eyes, the same beautiful honey brown of Trey’s, that I put two and two together.
Ah. The evil mother.
“And you must be Randi,” she says with a fake smile.
“It's Madam Vice President, actually,” I correct her as I spin on my heels to face Trey's mother. “And the pleasure is mine, Mrs. Benson. I believe I have you to thank for the bill's failure in the Senate.”
Her gaze quickly flicks to Trey. “I'd do anything for my only son.”
“Tonight, Mess. Wait up for me,” Trey mutters before slipping through the crowd and leaving us alone.
“Love your dress,” she says just before taking a sip of champagne. The judgy look on her face tells me she's lying through her veneers.
“Let's cut the bullshit, shall we?” I laugh and smile in case anyone is monitoring our conversation.
His mother does the same, tilting her glass to me in a mock cheers. “Let's.”
“He told me what he did for your help, how you turned the tables and upped the ante.” To keep my hands from trembling, I grasp the empty glass in both hands. “Brilliant. It really was, the whole thing. But there's a loophole,” I whisper conspiratorially.
For a blink, that fake-ass smile falters before recovering. “Oh, do tell.”
“You see, it doesn’t matter how you gained the information you believe is true on Trey and that man in Boone. There is no proof. You’ll have zero leverage when I tell Trey of the dozens of cases which were found not guilty or outright dismissed based on little to no proof.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My breaths quicken as I fight the urge to yank free of his grasp. Between it being him and my avoidance to touch, I'm a hairbreadth from screaming.
Sarah's latest training session snaps to the forefront of my mind. With my free hand, I snake my arm around his and grip his shoulder before using the angle to twist him around, slamming his chest to the wall.
“Don't you ever touch a woman without her consent, do you hear me, Todd?” Relaxing my grip, I step back and smooth out my dress in case the scuffle caused the material to ruffle. “Now, I'm going to get my drink, and you're going to keep your mouth shut on what you know. It's not what you think. I can trust them. More than I can you, actually. So don't you act all chivalrous in trying to manage my friends list. I'll see you next month for the G-20 summit.”
Without looking back, I stride down the hall. Cutting the corner into the lively party, I nearly smack into Trey.
“Hey,” I huff and make to skirt around him toward the bar, only for him to match my steps, preventing me from passing by.
“Nicely handled, Madam Vice President. Sarah will be proud.”
I pause my attempt to sneak around him. Tilting my chin, I get lost in his beautiful brown eyes that are staring down into mine adoringly.
“Thanks,” I say with a small smile playing at my lips.
“What did you and Jessica talk about?” he asks as he takes a step closer, putting us nearly chest to chest as a waiter passes by with a tray full of tiny hors d’oeuvres. Seriously, why do they think this fancy food is impressive? Why not have a full tray of fried cheese sticks or potato skins? Now that kind of appetizer I can get behind. These fancy caterers need to take a hint from Applebee’s and adjust their menus.
“You, me, you two as a couple.” Saying the words leaves an ache in my chest.
“Please tell me you didn't tell her the plan.”
“Of course I didn't,” I snap. Tipping the highball glass back, I knock an ice cube into my mouth. “Trey,” I say hesitantly, “there's something I need to tell you.”
Almost like he can read me, knows the words I want to say, his facial features soften with a shy smile.
“Not here, Mess. Later, when it's just you and me.”
Swallowing back my rising emotions, I clear my throat and force a smile. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good. So, are you coming—”
“There you are, honey.”
My shoulders tense at the fakeness in the voice, and the earlier love and adoration shining through Trey’s face shutters closed, leaving behind a blank expression. Looking over my shoulder, I keep my features neutral.
She's beautiful, no doubt. Perfection personified. Plump lips pressed into a tight-lipped smile, thin delicate nose that no one is born with, and just enough filler to make her years younger. It’s when I catch her eyes, the same beautiful honey brown of Trey’s, that I put two and two together.
Ah. The evil mother.
“And you must be Randi,” she says with a fake smile.
“It's Madam Vice President, actually,” I correct her as I spin on my heels to face Trey's mother. “And the pleasure is mine, Mrs. Benson. I believe I have you to thank for the bill's failure in the Senate.”
Her gaze quickly flicks to Trey. “I'd do anything for my only son.”
“Tonight, Mess. Wait up for me,” Trey mutters before slipping through the crowd and leaving us alone.
“Love your dress,” she says just before taking a sip of champagne. The judgy look on her face tells me she's lying through her veneers.
“Let's cut the bullshit, shall we?” I laugh and smile in case anyone is monitoring our conversation.
His mother does the same, tilting her glass to me in a mock cheers. “Let's.”
“He told me what he did for your help, how you turned the tables and upped the ante.” To keep my hands from trembling, I grasp the empty glass in both hands. “Brilliant. It really was, the whole thing. But there's a loophole,” I whisper conspiratorially.
For a blink, that fake-ass smile falters before recovering. “Oh, do tell.”
“You see, it doesn’t matter how you gained the information you believe is true on Trey and that man in Boone. There is no proof. You’ll have zero leverage when I tell Trey of the dozens of cases which were found not guilty or outright dismissed based on little to no proof.”
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