Saving the Senator's Son - Jacki James Page 0,7

was hard to support someone who was against basically everything you were.

He stood and stretched his hand across the desk. “So you’re Roman Barnes,” he said. “I’ve heard great things about you. Senator Harris credits you with identifying the man who was attempting to blackmail him. That was excellent work.”

“Thank you, sir, I was just the face of the operation. I have an entire team working behind me, and they deserve the credit for that one.”

He nodded along like he appreciated my mention of my team. “Yes, yes, it takes a team, right? And speaking of team, this is Fredrick March. He’s the head of my DC security team. He’s tasked with keeping me safe.” I shook hands with March.

“You look familiar, have we met?” I asked.

“I think we both worked an event a few years ago in Miami. But you were with a different security company then.”

“Oh yeah, the shoot for that reality show. That was a cluster.”

He chuckled. “It was. Nothing like young girls taking off their bikini tops to cause chaos.”

“Ahem.” the Senator cleared his throat and said, “Well, enough of that.” March cringed behind the Senator’s back. I wanted to laugh but doubted it would be appreciated. “Mr. Barnes, you’ve seen the letters, correct?”

“I have. Fredrick sent copies of them over to me last night.”

“There isn’t much we know. We’re assuming they’re directed at my son but aren’t sure. They read as a threat, but we don’t know if they actually are. However, we felt it was important that we take them seriously, and so here you are. We have a pool house you can stay in.”

“Is there not a room nearer to your son that I could use? I don’t need much space.”

“Yes, well, there’s a guest room in the west wing, but I don’t feel it would look proper for you to stay in such close proximity to my daughter. Not that I think you would do anything untoward, it’s just that appearances matter. Being in the public eye as I am, I must take extra precautions to protect me and my family's reputation. Small things, like I don’t ride alone in elevators with young women, I don’t take private meetings with women unless Fredrick is with me, and I don’t allow young men to stay in the same place as my daughter. I’m sure you understand.”

“As long as there’s no obvious threat, that’ll be fine. If the danger escalates, we may have to reevaluate.”

“Yes, well, if it reaches that point, we can move Malcolm to the pool house or both of you to another location.”

I always liked to do my own research in addition to what was in the client file, so I’d spent hours last night scouring the internet for information on Malcolm Coben III. Naturally, I’d noticed he was a good-looking guy. At least he was if you were into that clean-cut, all-American kind of look, like a masculine version of his mother. Fairly tall, with blond hair, and the lean athletic build you get when playing a lot of tennis, and of course, he had her beautiful blue eyes and perfect smile. He was the perfect boy next door.

But that was not what I saw when he walked through the door. For just a second, before he realized I was there, what I saw was an empty shell, don’t get me wrong, it was a pretty shell, but empty nonetheless. I wondered if it was because of the letters or if something else had stolen the light out of him. But then he saw me standing there, and it was like someone flipped a switch, and he was on—his back straightened and the hundred-watt smile I’d seen in photographs last night was back. Wow, would the real Malcolm Coben raise your hand because that was a little freaky.

Chapter 4

Trey

Even just the tiniest bit of warning there were people waiting would’ve been nice. Of course, simply knowing he had someone in there wouldn’t have prepared me for the man taking up way too much space in my father’s office. He wore an expensive, well-cut dark brown suit that complimented the warm chocolate color of his eyes.

As soon as I realized he was there, I took a quick breath and put on my campaign face. The man looked like he had money, so I assumed my father had invited him here to solicit reelection contributions. “Hello,” I said, smiling and stretching out my hand. “I’m Malcolm, the Senator’s son.”

He looked at me

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