Unnerved, she stood up.
"Selma?" When she didn't turn, he continued. "We need to think about your counter offer. If you coming on board isn't part of the deal--and you've told me you just want to walk away--then we can only limit their ability to use the brand in a very minute fashion. At least, if we want the deal to happen."
"Then I want money," she said, her stomach tight. "If they get the ability to do whatever they want, then I want loads of cash."
"Yeah," he said, rising and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Sounds like we're both on the same page."
Chapter Ten
United States Senator Douglas Todd had represented the great state of Texas for going on fifteen years, and according to Judge Coale, his support would be invaluable as Easton moved up the ladder, hopefully to a federally appointed seat on an appellate or district court.
That goal was years away, but navigating the judicial waters required long-term planning.
Which was why Easton was sitting in Jeffries, one of Austin's finest restaurants, sharing dinner with the man even though he'd much rather be at home in the hot tub with Selma celebrating the excellent counteroffer they'd put together and faxed over to Penoldi-Gryce's attorneys that afternoon.
Not that he should complain. These kinds of dinners came with the territory. And Senator Todd really had led a fascinating life. Unfortunately, he didn't have a clue how to tell it, and he made his time in the military and the CIA sound like an advertisement for motor oil.
It was all Easton could do not to fall asleep. And, frankly, he was working harder to look interested than he'd ever remembered working in his life. More to the point, the senator seemed entirely uninterested in getting to know him, which seemed counter to the reason that they were having dinner. Because how could Todd get behind Easton as an up-and-coming player in the judiciary if Todd didn't know a thing about him?
Easton didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care, though he would definitely bend Judge Coale's ear later.
Right then, all he wanted was to get home. And if he got out of there early enough, he might even go see Selma. After all, they had a deal, and today had been solely about the work. Time to add some balance to the equation.
"And about that time, I realized that the initiative wouldn't go through if I didn't put all my weight behind it," the senator said.
Easton had entirely lost the thread of the conversation, but was saved when his phone chimed.
"I'm so sorry," he said, pulling it out. "I usually silence this, but my mother is ill." A huge lie, and he owed his mom a phone call to make up for using her as his foil. But right then, he didn't care who was texting. He opened the app, checked the screen, and almost lost it right there.
Selma. Entirely naked and twisted up in her sheets just enough to be completely immodest and yet not look like porn. In fact, to Easton, she looked like dessert.
Below the picture, her text re
ad - Wanna play?
Oh, yes. Did he ever.
Who took that picture?
That wasn't what he'd intended to ask, but jealousy had prompted his fingers.
That's what tripods and remote shutter clickers are for. I want you. And I wanted you to know.
Relief that it wasn't an old picture some other man had taken--or worse, that there was someone else with her--crashed over him with unexpected force.
My house. One hour. I want you like that.
Holy hell, what was he doing? Sexting in one of the city's nicest and most established restaurants? While he was schmoozing a United States Senator? This was not the Easton he'd become over the last two years as his plan to go after a judicial seat had evolved. And this definitely was not the path that was going to get him elected.
But it could only screw him up if someone found out. And he'd been walking the straight-and-narrow for so long now, that he could handle a respite. A small break into the wild and dark. After all, Selma wasn't a permanent fixture. She was a pressure valve. A temporary necessity.
And, frankly, considering tonight, she was a welcome escape hatch.
"Senator, I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to stay for dessert and coffee. I need to get home and take care of some family matters."
Easton woke with the sun, then rolled over, breathless and sated, as Selma curled up next to him. She'd met him at the door as he'd walked in, racing naked across his living room and launching herself into his arms.
He'd taken her on the floor, fast and hard, before they'd moved to the bed for a repeat performance, that time focusing on slow and easy. She was, by far, the most responsive, aggressive, sexy, fascinating woman he'd ever met, and he had absolutely no regrets about ditching the senator.