Page 15 of The Senator's Secret

“Got it,” he says. “Anything to drink for you guys?” And this must be why he likes to come here. No one stands on ceremony for him here. He is just like everyone else.

“The IPA,” I answer.

“Me too, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Maybe we won’t need to get married,” I say hesitantly when he walks away. “Maybe the dust will blow over and we can consciously uncouple like the celebrities do and still see you settled in the White House.”

“Sure,” he replies, but the way he says it is more like “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

I eye him warily, and I can’t help but wonder if he has even more nefarious motives than trying to fuck me while I repair my reputation.

“Now, let’s talk details,” he says, sitting back in his seat and making himself more comfortable. He’s clearly at ease here, and that puts me firmly on my guard.

“What about the details? We go on a few fake dates, maybe give a press release, right?”

“Here’s your IPAs,” the waiter interrupts, placing them on the table between us before walking away again.

“I don’t think that will work,” he hedges.

“Why not?” I ask as I tip my head and ponder our predicament a little more.

“I’m seen on casual dates all the time,” he explains. “I think we need to be more proactive. We need to appear more involved. More serious.”

And there goes the final nail in my coffin.

“What did you have in mind?” I ask before taking a sip from my glass.

“I think you should move in with me,” he says calmly, and I choke on my beer. He can’t be serious.

“Excuse me?” I wipe at my mouth with a napkin. “I think I misheard you.”

“No,” he responds. “You heard me correctly. I think you should move in with me.”

“You would be miserable,” I promise. He couldn’t possibly want to live with me. I’m messy and disorganized. I love to eat takeout and read in ratty old sweats from my alma mater. And my cats. Oh holy shit in a giant litter box—he has not idea I live with a ton of cats, and I won’t give them up.

“I highly doubt that.” He smirks. He looks at me with a ridiculous look on his face that can only mean he thinks I’m so cute while trying to get out of moving in with him. But I’m not ready to give up just yet, even though we both know he is going to walk away the victor here.

“Here are your appetizers,” the waiter says as he places a bunch of dishes in front of us on the table. “And also some plates.”

“Thank you,” I say softly. “It looks lovely.”

“Thank you,” Jacob tells the waiter also.

“Okay,I’mgoing to be miserable.” I change my previous statement as soon as he’s gone. Chancellor begins to dish up several things and hands the full plate to me. It’s actually a very sweet gesture from this alpha male. “Thank you,” I tell him. I didn’t expect him to serve me, to take care of me like this. I hope I never get used to it, because when he’s finally bored with me and moves on, I will never be able to get over him.

“I’m not so sure about that.” He fills up a plate for himself.

“Oh yeah?” I roll my eyes.

“Yes.” He smiles. He’s barely holding in his laughter at my frustration. “My brownstone is huge. We may never see each other,” he promises.

God, I hope that’s true. He might not find my little babies as wonderful as I do. I’m hoping he doesn’t notice they’re even there.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He grins. “My brownstone is one of the biggest on the block. There is plenty of room for all of your belongings and even room for you to have your own home office.”