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“Thanks for the push.” I smile for the first time in weeks. “I got a politician to annoy.”
* * *
I hate it when people make me wait. Patience has never been one of my strong suits. After Marcel gave me the bright idea to talk to Senator Banks, I drove over to the Capitol Building. The traffic in D.C. is a pain in the dick. You need to add at least an extra half hour to your day just to get where you need to be on time. It took me over forty minutes to get here, and then, it was a real hassle to get inside.
A middle-aged redhead with a squeaky voice that’s painfully annoying answers one phone call after another. I rushed over in the same sweats and Caps tee without thinking about how I look. Not like I care. But I wouldn’t recommend dressing like you rolled out of bed when you visit a place filled with suits.
A few people recognized me, while most of the stuck-up suits tipped their nose up at me. Fucking snobs. I hate politics and all the bullshit that surrounds it. I feel like I’m in an episode of House of Cards. I don’t belong in a place like this. I have no idea what I will say to the senator when we meet. But I’m sure we can come to an agreement. There has to be something he wants.
My cell phone rings for the tenth time since the secretary told me to take a seat. She peeks up from her computer, glaring at me until I silence the ringer. If I wasn’t waiting for Lila to come to her senses, I wouldn’t have replaced the phone I broke. The damn thing rings off the hook day and night.
Everyone wants the story about Lila and me. They want to know more about the woman who scored the highest-paid player in the NHL. I went from the most unattainable bachelor to pussy whipped overnight. And seriously, I don’t care that I’m whipped. Lila can whip me all she wants. I’d do anything to get her back. There’s no line I wouldn’t cross or amount of money I wouldn’t spend.
The minutes drag as I wait for Senator Banks to show his face. I’m too big for the armchair, and when I attempt to get comfortable, the wood digs into my side. Bored, I open my phone and hit ignore on the missed calls and texts. I could care less about what anyone wants from me. I’ll talk when I feel like it.
The jerk off from earlier responded to my tweets with a string of Lila GIFs. He’s lucky I don’t know where he lives. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find out. Annoyed, I close out of Twitter. Who the fuck cares what any of these morons think about me? Lila is my girlfriend. There’s nothing wrong with us being together.
Well, she was my girlfriend…
I’m not sure what to call her now.
We’re broken up, but we’re not.
She wants space, and I don’t.
This situation confuses the hell out of me.
After two hours of wasted time, the secretary clears her throat. “Mr. Baldwin?”
I shove my phone into my pocket and look up at her. “Senator Banks is in Baltimore for a conference. I thought Mr. Fairchild would be back after lunch, but he just called to cancel his afternoon. Do you want to make an appointment for another day?”
“Does Ted do this often?”
She rolls her shoulders. “He’s a busy man.”
I can see why he never shows up for Max. He has no respect for anyone’s time. What’s keeping you away from the office, Ted? He strikes as me the type to fuck assistants between meetings. I get a serious dickhead vibe from him.
I’d love to know what Lila ever saw in him. They say love is blind. Lila must’ve had on some pretty dark shades when she looked at Ted. I knew what he was the second I met him. He was probably cheating on Lila for years. How any man would be that stupid with a woman like her at home amazes me. Lila is the kind of woman you worship, cherish. You don’t let another man take her away from you.
“No, I’ll come back if I can’t find him,” I tell her.
I guess I have to hunt this asshole down if I want Lila back. I’ve been to Ted’s house a few times to pick up Max with Lila. His address is still in my GPS.
* * *
An hour later, after I sat through a ridiculous amount of traffic, I pull up in front of Ted’s house. His black Mercedes is in the driveway. He must’ve had some hell of a reason to cancel his entire afternoon to lounge around at home.
No one answers when I knock on the front door. I pound my fists against the wood a few more times with the same result. Still nothing. I grab the knocker and give that a try. Why is his car here if he’s not home?
I ring the doorbell, and after the fifth ring, the door swings open. Ted’s dark hair is wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. He holds the towel in place, confusion scrolling across his face when he sees me. His eyes widen, the way they did the first time we met when he was still one of my biggest fans. But after our last altercation, his opinion of me has changed. I hate him, too.
Ted’s mouth twists into a disgusted scowl. “What the hell do you want?”
Holding back what I want to say to this prick, I say, “I need to talk to you.”
“And what gives you the right to show up at my house? This is private property.” He attempts to slam the door in my face, and I push out my palm to stop him.
“It’s important,” I growl. “I wouldn’t show up here if it wasn’t.”
