Page 27 of Power
“It’s Bennett.”
“No, it’s not. This isn’t personal; it’s business. I’m an escort. My job is to go out for dinner with people who pay me and sometimes have sex with them. It’s to listen to their problems, and to give them satisfaction.” She stands and lifts her chin. “You’re the president, and I’m an escort. You may hire me, but I’m not yours.”
“I want you to be,” I openly admit, hoping she feels the same way.
“Mr. President, perhaps we should end our arrangement here.” Reece creeps toward the door.
“Don’t you dare fucking move,” I say to her. A small shiver tears through her body as she audibly gasps. There’s too much distance between us, and I hate how she’s so willing to walk out of my room. And my life. Standing, I walk over and stop in front of Reece. Her chin is tucked down with her eyes closed. “Don’t you fucking move,” I whisper as I reach out to touch her cheek with the back of my hand. Reece licks her lips before pursing her mouth together. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly. “Why are you fighting this?”
Reece’s chin stays lowered. “We can’t be more. Can’t you see that?”
“I want it.” I lower my hand to grab hers and place it on my chest. “You want it.” Her fingers flex against my unbuttoned shirt.
“Mr. President.”
“Bennett,” I correct. “I want you.”
She softly shakes her head, pulls her hand out from under mine and steps back. Reece opens her mouth several times, itching to say something. It takes her a few seconds, before she starts, “I came here tonight to ask you to remove the Secret Service detail you have on me. It’s a waste of taxpayer money.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do, because I’m a taxpayer, and I would be furious to find out the president is spending my hard-earned tax money on Secret Service protection for an escort.” She sucks in a breath, though remains still and cold.
“I’m not spending the taxpayers’ money.”
“No? Who pays the Secret Service then?” I hate how right she is. “You’ll never be reelected as president if people find out you’re in a relationship with an escort.”
I look away from her, hating how she’s referring to herself. “Stop talking like that.”
“You’ll lose every vote, every seat, every person who’s supported you or backed your party. The margin you’ll lose by will be the biggest in history.”
“Are you even registered to vote?” I ask, trying to deflect from the intense situation.
Reece’s jaw jumps as she stares at me, ready to argue. “You’re kidding right? You’ve investigated me, have a file with all of my information, and you have no idea if I’m a voter?” Oh, I do love pushing her buttons. I flick my hand dismissively. “Did you just flick your hand at me?”
“I know you’re a voter. Who did you vote for?”
“The candidate’s name was Nunya.”
I stare at her in confusion. “There wasn’t anyone by that name.”
“None of ya business. Just like my personal life is none of your business. Like my family and friends are none of your business.” There she is my fiery girl who’s not afraid to stand up to me, or weakens when we’re in the same room together.
“You should work for me.” I walk over to the small dining table and pull out the chair.
“What? Work for you?”
“You refuse to allow me to look after you, so you should be on my staff.”
Reece begins to laugh hysterically. Tears cling to her cheeks as she holds her stomach. “As what? Your on-call escort?”
“I’d find you a suitable position.”
She stops laughing and approaches me. “You know, you’re so damn cute when you’re being unreasonable.” She beams happily. “But you’ve seen my tax returns.”
“Well, yes.” I lean back into the chair, quite relaxed.
“What did I earn last year?”
