Seduced By The Candidate (The Candidate, #1) (7 page)

Other than Jake, Goulding had no real friends and that thought
had depressed him. His mood had further darkened when he realized that Jake was
now an employee and that until recently he hadn’t seen him for nearly a decade.
Just how strong could a friendship be under those kinds of circumstances? For
far too long, Goulding had shouldered his fears and responsibilities all by
himself and now he realized that he needed an ally if he was to manage
everything that was being thrown at him.

Obviously, the natural choice was Jake, but the big man was
simply too busy to give Goulding the attention he needed. It wasn’t that he
didn’t
care,
he was just too focused and professional
to let his guard down for a second. He took the security detail very seriously
and would not be distracted from his duties, even by his friend and employer.

Solace had come in the form of a much more unexpected person,
but very welcome nonetheless. Charlotte had emerged as something of a bastion
of calm retreat amongst the madness of the daily grind. Whenever Goulding had
tired of the endless shit storm that John Lyndsey had orchestrated for him,
Charlotte had availed herself to him.

She had proven to be the voice of reason whenever he found
himself lacking purpose or conviction. She had been the reassuring influence he
needed to re-group and re-focus on the task at hand. She even offered a
humorous, light distraction from the serious nature of political posturing.

Charlotte had been more than a little surprised that her boss
had sought her out and, at first, she had been a little reserved due to her
position and natural inclination towards restraint and retreat. Her inexperience
meant that her trepidation had remained. Although, as time passed and the
frequency of Goulding’s interactions increased, she became more and more at
ease with the situation.

Without consciously realizing it, the boundary between
professional courtesy and friendly companionship had begun to blur and she
found that she was actually beginning to enjoy the one-on-one conversations.
More than that, she was actually yearning expectantly for the next time that he
would seek her out.

What had she secretly hoped for? She had kid herself that her
increased attention to her personal appearance had been purely down to the road
trip and the presence of an expectant public. In reality, she knew that it had
been intended solely to get a response from Goulding.

She found herself desperate for his attention and acceptance.
As naive as she was at reading men, she couldn’t help but notice the way his
eyes constantly flicked away from her face to explore the rest of her body
whenever they were face-to-face. Whenever they were alone, she felt flushed
with desire and expectation that he might decide to push for a relationship
that was far from being strictly professional and whenever they were apart, she
prickled with the anticipation of their next meeting.
 

What was happening to her? She had never felt like this before
about a man, especially one as arrogant and offensive as Goulding, but she
burned with a desire to be kissed, to be touched and even to be, dare she think
it?
Taken.
She was terrified by the prospect. While
the rational part of her mind told her that it was stupid, the frivolous, wild
side of her desired nothing more than to give it to him completely and to be
used in whatever base way he saw fit.
 

Charlotte had seen him looking at her out of the corner of her
eye while she dealt with the countless questions and demands from the people at
Memphian Industries, but she had discounted her sudden excitement as the
imaginings of a silly young girl. Although her rational consciousness had
buried the feelings deep within her, she hadn’t forgotten them and when they
had moved on to visit the local community center and she had seen him watching
her again, they had been fanned back into life by a fluttering heart and a
racing pulse.

Twice he had escaped his obligations and sought out five
minutes quiet refuge with her and each time it had been wonderfully informal
and unexpected. Now she could see him working his way towards her again. He was
tlushed with success and at the same time, clouded by the weight of
expectation.

“Senator...Bill,” she sputtered. “Is everything going okay?”

“Not really Charlotte. What John doesn’t realize is that there
is only one of me and when everyone wants a piece, it doesn’t leave me with a
great deal left over!”
  

“I’m sorry, Bill. It must be hard being forced to run such a
transparent campaign and give
yourself
fully to the
public.” She fidgeted with her pen nervously. What was wrong with her? Why did
she find herself craving any bit of attention Bill Goulding gave her?

“It can be, Charlotte. As much as I want to be the people’s
President, I still want to retain a private part of myself.”

“That’s all anyone can ask. No one should be forced to reveal
their private parts to anyone that really has no business seeing them.”

Instantly she colored, the saucy implications of her innocuous
words registering.
“Oh my God!
What have I said?
I-I...I didn’t mean that...I...I didn’t mean...I...” She shut her mouth before
she made things worse.

“That’s okay Charlotte,” said Goulding, his eyes gleaming and
his face lit up with an amused smile. “I have very nice private parts, but I
would rather that they were only seen by someone who would really appreciate
them!”

Charlotte flushed deeply, burning with the embarrassment of her
faux pas and scarcely able to look Goulding in the eye. Part of her wished that
the floor would open up and swallow her immediately. Another part recalled the
look in Goulding’s eyes as she had turned away. It had been full of fun, but
also something else, perhaps a look of wanton yearning. Surely not, but she
couldn’t be sure. It could have meant anything.
             

* * *

Having wrapped up the visit to the community center, the party
moved on to its final destination for the day; a visit with the local
Evangelist movement and an evening meal in his honor. Goulding was tired and
his perfectly cultivated demeanor was becoming more and more tested with the
constant demands of his expectant audience. Still, this was the real reason for
this whole visit and he had no intention of going through the enforced
hardships of the Memphian Industries office complex and the Elvis Presley
community center to fall at the final hurdle.

As any Republican knows, win the Evangelists and you’ve won
ninety percent of the battle. It was unprecedented for an organization so
hugely averse to sex before marriage to nail its colors to the flag of a young,
unmarried Presidential candidate and yet they had. His sincere approach, strong
values and charismatic appeal had won them over.

This was very much John Lyndsey’s finest achievement. Everyone
else had told him that it couldn’t be done. John had merely said that it would
be hard, but nothing was impossible. They had spent many long hours discussing
the situation and strategizing about how it could be turned to their advantage
and all of their diligent planning had eventually paid off.

Baring an outrageous stroke of bad luck, or revelations that no
one, no matter how good they were could swing in his favor, they were his and
tonight’s speech would merely serve to cement the deal. Bill Goulding would be
the first single President of modern times and he had no intention of achieving
it quietly, with a closely fought out and tentative campaign. He intended to do
it with no small amount of panache and acclaim.

He would wow and amaze his adoring followers and leave them
with absolutely no doubt that he was not only the right person to represent
them, but that he was the right man to lead the most powerful nation in the
world. Bill Goulding was good for America and after tonight, even the swing
nations would have no doubt of that fact.

Television cameras would convey his message not only to the
country, but thanks to modern broadcasting it would reach every corner of the
globe. By tomorrow morning he would grace the front page of every major
newspaper on the planet. The thought sent shivers down his spine and for the
first time that day he smiled, completely unprompted by camera crews.
  

Jake Armstrong never took his eyes off Goulding as they filed
into the big hall and the formal handshakes and grateful acknowledgements began
in earnest. He was also tired and his head throbbed from the hours spent in
unbroken focus and concentration, but he knew that this would be his biggest
test.
A huge, open hall with several exits, even more
windows, and hundreds of people milling around, desperate to get close enough
to shake Goulding’s hand.

Or plunge a knife into his chest.

Or pull out a gun and open fire.

He shook the weariness from his head. The possibilities for a
covert attack were seemingly endless and he only had himself to rely on if
things turned nasty. This was an unacceptable risk in his opinion and he would
never have allowed such a rash choice of venue had he been in charge of the
detail at the time it was organized.

One thing was for sure, he would never permit Goulding to be
placed in such un-protected surrounds again. If he could just get through
tonight, he could breathe easy once again. Focus, commitment and proximity were
all he could fall back on tonight and he would make sure that he was never more
than a few meters away from Goulding while he was here, in case he needed to…
What was the best word? Intervene.

Jake thought for a minute. Would he really take a bullet for
this man? Bill Goulding was a good man, a great soldier and a loyal friend, but
that had been a long time ago and now he was merely his employer. No, that
wasn’t fair. Bill was his boss. The position did come with a remit to use
ultimate force and protection, but no man would die for something unless he
truly believed in it.

They hadn’t spoken for nearly ten years, but he had seen in
Bill’s eyes that the pain and desire to make amends had never left him. He had
also offered Jake a lifeline when even his country had turned its back on him
and Jake would never forget that. Bill the Senator wasn’t worth dying for.
However, Bill the man and Bill the friend, they certainly were and he would
stand by that assertion no matter what.

When they finally reached the head table, Goulding settled himself
into the seat. Jake stood three paces behind him maintaining a respectful
distance. Though he was close enough to see and overhear everything that
transpired. To all intents and purposes, he appeared to be standing at ease,
with his massive arms crossed behind his back and his feet the regulation
shoulder width apart. What no one could see was that his right hand rested on
the butt of the semi-automatic Glock pistol secured at the small of his back.
He had another in a shoulder holster that was hidden from sight beneath his
formal dress jacket as well as an eight-inch hunting knife in a sheath strapped
to his calf and although he might have appeared to be better prepared that John
Rambo, he still considered himself to be under-protected and exposed.

Standing perfectly still apart from his constantly darting
eyes, Jake watched as his boss ate, laughed, joked and listened intently to his
excited host. Jake silently praised the police presence that remained vigilant
at the various entrances, wondering if he might not find the supporting members
of his team amongst their ranks. After all, a cop’s salary was pretty fucking
modest and if they would show as much dedication and professionalism when being
paid peanuts, imagine what they might do for double or triple that amount. He
made a mental note to get their names and contact details when he returned to
the office. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the waiting staff remove
the empty dessert plates.

“Not long to go now,” he thought to himself. “The meals over
and it’s just the speech to go.”

Goulding drained another glass of wine and instantly, the
waiter poured him a refill. Jake tried to recall how much his boss consumed
during the meal and thought it might have been three or four glasses. In itself
that wasn’t extreme by anyone’s standards, but Jake considered that it to be
strange for Goulding. When he had been in the army, Goulding had regularly
drink three and four times that amount and they had spent many evenings
drunkenly weaving back to base, desperately trying to avoid bumping into any
overzealous MP’s that would have been only too happy to bang them up on a case
of drunk and disorderly conduct. All of that had changed, however, ever since
Goulding had recovered from his injury and cleaned
himself
up, Jake knew that he had been practically a teetotaler. Still, he didn’t look
like it was affecting him too much. He was a little flushed and if you really
concentrated on what he was saying you could detect the slightest slurring of
some of his words, but in the main he appeared to be fine.

“Should be alright,” Jake told
himself
,
but made a mental note to keep a close eye on his boss. Saving his life was
important, but no more so that saving him from public embarrassment. It was
probably just a bit of Dutch courage in the face of the world’s media, but it
needed monitoring nonetheless.

The room suddenly fell silent as a man in the very center of
the table tapped his dessert spoon against an empty wine glass and Jake tensed
with expectant anticipation.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the nameless man. “I’m sure you’ll
agree that we have been treated to some wonderful things through the course of
this evening and we should extend our thanks to the chefs and the waiting
staff.”

He paused as a polite ripple of applause echoed around the room
and then he continued.