“Stress level better?” he asked softly.
“Much.”
“Good, ’cause we’re running late now.”
I looked over at the clock and saw it was now twenty minutes from the time we were supposed to be at the restaurant.
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed, stark-naked, with my just-fucked hair sticking out in every direction.
“If it helps at all, you should wear the purple dress right there,” he said, pointing to a simple wrap dress. “I always like you in purple,” he confessed sweetly.
His naked body was draped across my bed, doing all sorts of crazy things to my frazzled brain.
“You, out,” I commanded, pointing to the door.
He laughed, standing proudly, without an ounce of shame.
With a body like that, who needs shame?
Focus, Liv.
“I can’t think with all that yummy nakedness around. Go get dressed, and be back here in ten minutes!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, playing up his Carolina boy accent.
He peeked out the window as he was pulling up his jeans. “Looks like Leah is here to pick up Noah. I’d better run out and say good-bye to him. Wish I had a shirt.” He shrugged and then quickly kissed me on the cheek. “Oh, and if it ever comes up, you’re afraid of spiders.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Spiders?”
“I might have mentioned something to Noah about you being afraid of spiders and needing someone to kill one for you before I ran out of the house as if a fire were chasing me.”
Before I had a chance to answer, he slapped my bare ass and gave me a parting wink.
I shook my head, covering a giggle, as I moved to the closet to get dressed.
I stopped as it all came back—dinner, parents…olive branch.
My phone rang, and it was Jackson again.
I glanced up at the window across from me, but he wasn’t there.
“Hello?”
“Purple dress, remember?”
“How did you—” I began to ask.
“I just did. Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.”
Nodding, I let in a long gulp of air and allowed it to fill my lungs.
No matter what happened tonight, I knew that everything would be just fine as long as Jackson was there to hold my hand.
~Jackson~
The restaurant was exactly the type of place I’d expected a Senator and his wife to dine. Upscale and refined, it was known for its exclusive menu and world-class chef. It was also impossibly hard to get into—unless, of course, one had money.
It was rumored that Douglas Prescott’s wealth was grossly exaggerated. Having been in several confidential meetings with him now, I knew this to be fairly inaccurate. The man was loaded. But wealthy politicians didn’t go over well in an economy where jobs were scarce and prices were sky-high. Even a rich Republican had to do his best to connect with the regular folk, and that was exactly what the good old Senator from Virginia was trying to do.
My opinion on the man was still on the fence, and most of it hinged on how he behaved tonight.
He could wine and dine the American people until he was blue in the face. What he did with his campaign was his business.
What he did with Liv, however, was my business.
I didn’t care that his account meant more to my boss than life itself. I would do whatever was necessary to protect what was mine—even if it meant leaving the position I’d come here for.
I had no idea what to expect as Liv’s hand slipped in mine, and we walked through the double doors of the restaurant.
Would her father be rigid and formal? Or would he break down at the mere sight of his little girl? Would he feel betrayed at the sight of me by her side wondering if I’d known who he was this entire time and never told him anything about Liv?
Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck what he thought of me, but I did care how he treated Liv, and I didn’t want my professional involvement to affect that.
After quickly checking in with the maître d’, we were escorted to a cozy table near the back of the restaurant.
So, the old man had requested privacy for this little reunion?
I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that.
I squeezed Liv’s hand, quickly grabbing her attention. “You ready for this? We could still turn around.” I winked.
She smiled hesitantly and rubbed my knuckle with her thumb. “Nervous, counselor?” she joked.
“No way. I’m pumped.”
“Liar.”
When we reached the booth, the maître d’ formally announced us, “Sir, here is the rest of your party. Shall I bring the bottle of wine you selected?”
“Yes, that would be lovely,” the Senator replied.
I couldn’t see him yet. My view was blocked by several plants and lavish floral decorations placed between each booth, obviously creating a feeling of intimacy.
“Olivia,” he greeted, his voice growing noticeably choked. “My Livvy Lou.”
“Hi, Daddy,” she replied.
I’d never heard that nickname, but I instantly loved it. It was endearing and sweet, and it gave me visions of a little girl with long braids climbing trees and piggybacking on her father.
A petite woman with dark chestnut hair and bright blue eyes, brimming with tears stood to greet us. She pulled Liv into her arms and held her tightly.
As they embraced, I got my first glimpse of the Senator outside of the conference walls of my office building. He looked up at the sight of his daughter and wife with satisfaction and obvious emotion. It wasn’t until Liv stepped back to take my hand once more that he seemed to notice anyone else.
“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend,” Liv said formally. She snuck a smirk in my direction, no doubt a response to her choice of title for me.
Her father rose from the table, outstretching his hand toward me. “Jackson Reid,” he stated.
“Yes, sir. Pleasure to meet you—again,” I added.
“I hadn’t realized,” he said, gesturing for us to join them at the table.
Liv went first, taking the seat closest to her father, and I slid in next to her.
“I apologize for blindsiding you, sir,” I began.
“Please, call me Doug,” he requested.
Nodding, I continued, “I didn’t want my relationship with Liv to appear as me trying in any way to get the upper hand with you in our day jobs. Considering the situation, I also wanted to protect Liv. I hope you understand my decision.”
Moments passed as he stared at me from across the table. I knew what he was doing. He was sizing me up. I didn’t back down or look away. Although I could really give a rat’s ass about what Liv’s absentee father thought of me, I would not appear weak in front of the woman I cared about so deeply.