Power Switch (Power Play #3) - Kennedy L. Mitchell Page 0,44
you've created. Create a fake Randi. I hate them too, but I’m willing to go if it means we gain information on the oil scheme Birmingham has going on. You don't have to like it, but to get anything done in this town, you have to pretend everyone is your friend.”
I huff in acknowledgment. Little does he know I already have fake Randi down pat. Between dealing with Kyle and Trey's mom, I've gotten pretty good at playing the game. At being the woman I've never wanted to become.
“Next week.”
“Huh?” I respond, still lost in my own thoughts.
“There’s a function next week at the White House. Some type of party welcoming several of the Middle East leaders as they converge to discuss the oil issue.” Sam's green eyes narrow. “I need you to make sure you get an invite.”
“Are you sure—”
“He's taking all this too far. Birmingham knows he's the cause of this mess, yet he’s purposefully dragging other countries into this shit to cover his own ass. We need information, any information to add to the case we’re building, before it's too late.”
“Fine,” I grumble, letting him hear the disdain in my voice.
“You wanted a plan. First step in this plan is to do something. And that something is attending these functions and galas as a couple, giving me access to a world I wouldn’t even be able to sniff at without your name tied to mine.” With a flick of his wrist, he checks his watch and slides off the desk. “Sorry, but I have another meeting I need to get to. Let me know when you get us on the list and what others you can score for the next month or so.”
Sam pauses in front of my chair, the toes of his dress shoes touching the points of my pumps. “See you later, honey.”
His light chuckle follows him through the library and out the doors.
“He’s not going to like this, Randi.”
I startle, shifting quickly in the chair to face the deep voice. Hand scrubbing the top of his shiny bald head, T stares at the floor.
“We don’t have a choice,” I say a bit defensively.
“Sure you do, but for some reason, you and that idiot Benson keep making the wrong ones. The lies are stacking up, Randi. What will you do when one card slips and the whole damn house comes falling down?”
I don’t respond. There’s really nothing to say back to that.
“I’ll go get, Benson.”
For several moments, I wait in the silence, gathering my thoughts and courage, dreading what needs to happen next.
Trey will understand that we need to keep our distance while I play the fake girlfriend, attending every fancy-ass party this city has to offer with Sam on my arm, right?
Well, when I put it like that….
11
Trey
Do not shoot him.
Do not shoot him.
Do not shoot him.
I don't pause the calming mantra until the dickwad is out the door and his pounding steps down the front porch stairs are no longer audible. Still, I allow a few additional seconds before sliding my tight fists from the silk-lined pockets of my custom-tailored slacks.
The tendons and muscles in my fingers protest as I flex them wide, stretching out the tightness from holding a knuckle-cracking fist for too long. It was the only way I could hold the involuntary reflexes at bay to reach out and strangle the man encroaching on my girl.
My girl.
Hanging my head, I massage the back of my neck, hoping to ease the building tension making it stiff and sore.
We're in the middle of a shit circus caused by our own doing with no way out. We’d both love to shed the fake lives we've crafted to survive in this political power game, but that won’t happen anytime soon. The one bright spot in my day, the one part of this craziness I look forward to, is our time here at One Observatory. Our alone time, the stolen moments when I’m on shift or the hours together when I’m not, are what’s driving me to see this through.
If I didn't have those stolen moments with her, the daily reminder of what I’m fighting for, this game we’re playing against the world would break me. Break the resolve we made to do whatever it takes to get through the next three years with her political career and life intact.
“She wants to talk to you,” Tank says with a sigh. “I told you two this would end badly. Now I'm forced to play damn mediator.”