“You couldn’t—no, you wouldn’t dare.”
“Since I do hold the majority stake in the company, I can fire anyone, even my own flesh and blood.” My father gazed imploringly at me. “I would hate to resort to that, son, but if you pushed me to it, then I would.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. Talk about being between a rock and a fucking hard place. I once again saw the lady with the weights, and this time the take the deal side had plummeted to the ground.
Dad sighed. “In my heart of hearts, I know you would never force my hand. I know that because regardless of the media’s perception of you, you have an exceptionally good heart.”
“Don’t flatter me, it just cheapens things,” I grumbled.
“It isn’t flattery. It’s the truth.”
When I looked into Dad’s eyes, I knew he was being genuine. The man had been in politics for thirty years, and thankfully, it hadn’t corrupted him. If I had a good heart, it was because I had inherited it from him, and from my mom too. I just didn’t know if I could ever live up to how much they believed in me.
Dad smiled. “So will you do it?”
The one thing in life I hated was when I felt like a disappointment to my father. Because of the heart condition I’d had as a kid, I hadn’t been able to see the pride on his face the first time he saw me in uniform. That had all been reserved for my older brother, and now Thorn’s sacrifice of service was a matter of pride to the campaign whereas my less than exemplary character was a deficit—and therefore, in my eyes, a disappointment.
“Yes, I will.”
With a wink, Dad said, “You bought my bluff about firing you, huh?”
Well damn. I sure wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah, I bought it. Your poker face is perfection.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He rose out of his chair and gave me a quick man-hug—the kind of arm thrown around the shoulder pat gesture. “Thank you, Barrett. You don’t know how happy this makes me.”
Hearing those words from him made me very happy, but I didn’t let him see that. Instead, I put up a strong front. “Look, I just said I would do it. That doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s destined to fail.”
“I think you’ll find we have a very well-constructed story.”
“Well, riddle me this: how does my fiancée fit into the fact that I just slept with a woman an hour ago on The Callahan Corporation jet?”
“Honestly, Barrett, our jet is for business purposes, not to use as a flying mattress!”
“I’m sorry.” I thought it was best to refrain from telling him that a mattress hadn’t been involved today; I didn’t think he would have appreciated the clarification in his current mood.
“Anyway, we plan to announce the engagement on Monday, which gives us two weeks before Super Tuesday to help boost my image. The story we will give to the press is that the two of you dated previously in the past before breaking things off. Even though you were apart, you still had feelings for each other. After being reunited at a campaign function this weekend, the two of you decided you couldn’t live without each other. You popped the question, and she happily accepted.”
“That’s quite a story. You know, you should start penning romance novels in your spare time.”
“I’ve always found your mother’s sarcastic wit endearing, but on you, it’s quite irritating,” Dad replied.
I held up my hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to behave.”
“So with the story we have come up with, you weren’t engaged at the time you were screwing the opera diva.”
Widening my eyes, I demanded, “Wait, how did you know—” Then I realized who I was dealing with. Dad had connections to the FBI and the CIA. Hell, he probably knew people in MI6 over in the UK when it came down to it. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t find out.
Dad winked at me. “Knowing you, I’m sure you haven’t given this girl any reason to believe you had a future together.”
With a smirk, I replied, “Actually, we are supposed to see each other again tonight when I get back to New York.”
“But you won’t. You’ll break it off using the story I gave you.”
Bernie nodded. “Should Miss Petscova become a problem, we will simply remind her of the NDA agreement she signed.”
Yes, I was that much of a douchebag that I had anyone I slept with more than once sign an NDA. It was more about the fact that women who dated me might be privy to inside information about The Callahan Corporation, not to mention that if they flew on the jet, there might be the odd senatorial document left behind by my father. It was a way to keep my hands clean.
“Okay, I know you said my engagement would be announced on Monday, but I don’t see how I can possibly find someone to get engaged to in forty-eight hours.”
“That won’t be necessary. We’ve already arranged your fiancée.”
“Is she a stacked blonde with nymphomaniac tendencies?” I jokingly asked.
“No, Barrett, she is not,” Dad replied tersely.
“Let me guess, she’s the daughter of one of Mom’s cronies? The ones who always want to pawn off one of their spawn on me?”
“Actually, she isn’t anyone you know. She works for the campaign.”
Warily, I eyed the folder. I was more than a little worried to see who had been picked for me since my parents were notoriously bad at fixing me up with women. After taking a deep breath, I flipped open the file to peer curiously at the smiling face of my fake future wife, Addison. Hmm, I had to give Dad and his minions credit—the woman was gorgeous. Considering the picture was only from the shoulders up, I couldn’t tell if she had a rocking body or not.