Page 9 of Kiss Kiss Bang
CHAPTER THREE
Gubernatorial candidate Olivia Russo is set to unveil her plan to get Florida out of the red without need for more federal assistance at tonight’s fundraising gala. President Hadley is set to attend in support of Russo. There’s been speculation that Russo will steer away from party lines in regard to the Everglades Preservation Project. Amidst declining water conditions due to toxic blue-green algae, Russo is said to support what some consider an “excessive” apportionment to the EPP.
“I’ve had a better time watching paint dry,” Joey whispered into the small microphone while standing in a corner of a huge ballroom in a black suit and crisp white shirt. It was the evening after he’d met Olivia and he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she saw him at the event. Would she be happy to see him? Would she be upset he hadn’t told her that he was working at the event tonight?
He was still thinking of all things Olivia when Jax spoke into the earpiece. “Says the man who gets a hard-on working on algorithms alone in his office.” Anyone who looked at them wouldn’t know they were talking. They’d been trained to blend into the background, watch, and take mental notes of everyone and everything, but also to exude a certain presence of authority and intimidation, as contradictory as that sounded.
“Numbers are sexy, man. Ask any woman, brother.” Joey’s eyes scanned the entirety of the room as he spoke.
“Anyway, you’re not supposed to be having fun. You’re supposed to be watching and making sure all these people are safe,” Jax said. He continued speaking, this time addressing the rest of their staff. “ICS? How’s everything looking?”
They were “all hands on deck” at the event. A cacophony of “all good” “all clear” came in through the earpiece. Normally, Joey did all the computer-related jobs that came into Iron-Clad Security. They did everything from bodyguard jobs to cybersecurity to covert under-the-radar reconnaissance missions. Most of the time, Joey planned the missions and worked on the computer cases. It wasn’t that he wasn’t muscular and fit , it was that most people just weren’t as muscular and as fit as Jax. It was like comparing Iron Man to the Hulk. Both were capable, but one could cause more damage with just his fist than the other. But just the same, Joey could be lethal. He had been in the Marines and had retired as a major. He was trained and skilled like the rest of the crew and this particular job required everyone on board.
Tonight the president of the United States would be at the campaign event, and ICS had been subcontracted to work alongside the Secret Service. Olivia would be one of the main speakers, and Joey couldn’t wait to see her. Not just to see her, but to listen to her speech, the one she’d been so worried about. Seeing her in her element would be interesting.
He’d never been this excited to take on a job in his life.
He knew she had arrived at the event because he’d heard her name being mentioned by one of the Secret Service guys who was going over the roster of attendees, but he hadn’t seen her yet.
The president had just finished his speech and was shaking hands with some local political figures when movement from the far end of the room caught Joey’s attention. There, looking regal in a long sapphire dress, her dark brown hair up in some sort of fancy hairdo, stood Olivia.
She’d looked fan-fucking-tastic in sweat pants and a messy bun. But she looked absolutely breathtaking in a gown.
He’d seen her on television dozens of times. When they were prepping for this event he’d seen her photographs. Even in pictures the woman was stunning. But nothing—nothing!—compared to seeing her in person, all dressed up.
She was a beacon in the room full of dull politicians. He watched her smile at Arnold Lennar, a very wealthy and well known party contributor. And the way he was looking at her—it didn’t seem as if he gave one single fuck whether she was for gun rights or wanted to hold hands and sing kumbaya to resolve violence. Hell, the woman could decide she thought cotton candy could solve world peace and Lennar would pull out his wallet and hand her all the money inside of it while marching alongside her.
The only thing that assuaged Joey’s rising jealousy, a jealousy he was not accustomed to feeling, was the way she smiled at Lennar. It was nothing like the way she’d smiled at Joey last night. Tonight, her beautiful green eyes didn’t sparkle. Obviously, she was playing a role, one he’d seen her play on television before. It was one that, perhaps, made her constituents love her and the donors open their checkbooks, but now that he’d met her in person, he knew it was not a genuine smile. Last night, her smile had been real, sincere, bright, soft and warm. This was . . . nice, but robotic. And the fact that she wasn’t giving Lennar the light she’d given him last night made Joey feel ten feet tall and gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt a connection.
“Protestors outside are getting out of control,” Jax said into his earpiece. “Feds are keeping them out, but keep an eye on the east doors. I’m getting concerned.”
Joey moved his view from Olivia to the door. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, although it was hard to say with the crowd being as large as it was. However, Jax had a notorious sixth sense and when he got a “bad feeling” it was usually spot-on. He moved closer to the east entrance, which brought him closer to Olivia. If something went down, he wanted to make sure she was covered.
The lights flickered, an indication that the five thousand dollar a plate meal was about to be served. It was a relief because it would be easier to monitor the room when everyone was sitting rather than loitering around. Joey glanced at Olivia, who glided across the room with a handful of people speaking to her, but none of them seemed to be a date of any kind. In fact, he’d noted when he’d looked her up that there had not been one photo of her with any man since Neil. She always went to these events alone or with Mark Roe, her campaign advisor, or at times with here good friend Winnie Peterson.
Tonight, she’d walked in with Mark. Since meeting her yesterday, Joey had done an unhealthy and slightly creepy amount of research on her. He had learned that Mark wasn’t only her advisor, he was also a friend of Neil, and someone who seemed to really care about her and her daughter.
He watched her put her little purse on the table and sit down with a warm smile, Mark to her right and a woman he knew to be a state rep named Wanda on her left.
He wanted to approach her. Say something. But he was working, and really, now that he’d seen her in her element—with her people, wearing her “clothes,” in command of a room full of politicians—what would he say to her? Last night she’d been cute and vulnerable and he’d really liked her. Today, watching her from across the room, he felt unsure. Not unsure as to whether he liked her, unsure as to whether she would like him. She was so smart, so beautiful, so sophisticated . . .
Maybe it was the way she’d been dressed or that she’d been a wreck over her broken computer, but last night it had been easy to talk to her. Today, he had to admit that she looked intimidating as she controlled the room with her presence. He’d never felt self-conscious before.
He continued surveilling the room as the salad was served and another dull politician took the stage to speak. She was set last on the itinerary, during dessert.
Olivia was looking up at the speaker instead of eating, and he thought he saw her stifle a yawn, which made him chuckle.
Unable to resist, he pulled out his phone and sent her a text. Thought you’d be wolfing that salad by now. Green, leafy, came from dirt . . . He pressed send and looked at her.
A moment later she inconspicuously pulled out her phone from her tiny purse. A smile spread across her face and she looked around. Mark whispered something to her and she shook her head and looked back up at the speaker but kept her phone on her lap.
Who’s this?she answered when no one seemed to be looking.
You know who this is.
Are you here? Should I be worried you’re a stalker?
He smiled. Working. East corner, by the exceptionally pretentious ice sculpture.
