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The waiter was standing at our table, shifting from foot to foot, looking wildly uncomfortable. My cheeks flamed, but this time with embarrassment. “I’ll have the filet,” I said, closing the menu in front of me with a quick snap.
Ezra ordered, but I was too embarrassed to pay too much attention. I don’t know what had gotten into me. I’d made it clear that I wasn’t interested in having sex with Ezra, and now, I was over here practically panting for him.
“How do you know Marcel?” I was trying to find a quick subject change. I didn’t expect that Ezra was going to call me out on what I’d just done, but I wanted to be sure. Sex was not a topic that I was interested in discussing, especially with Ezra.
“We grew up together.” Ezra’s voice was gruff as he spoke. It was the only sign that he’d been as affected by what happened as I was. “He’s a good guy.”
I snorted at that and brought my glass to my lips. It was clear that Ezra and Marcel were close friends. Ezra made enough excuses for him to make that clear. But I would have to agree to disagree.
“I know he’s intense…”
My lips pursed as I did my best not to correct Ezra. The word intense was not one that I would use to describe Marcel.
“You don’t like him.”
I sighed and placed my drink back down on the table. “Marcel is someone who is willing to do what he wants. He doesn’t care about who he hurts in the process.”
“And you think I’m different?”
“I wouldn’t be sitting here if I thought you were like Marcel,” I said. It was the truth. Ezra wanted to be mayor because he wanted to make the city a better place for all people. Marcel did what he did for his own power and glory.
Ezra said nothing, but I knew he didn’t believe me. He thought that he was just like Marcel.
But Ezra was a good man. He cared about people, and that was what drew me to him, and this ridiculous plan. But there was nothing I could say that was going to make him think that. Ezra was determined to be the bad guy, and I didn’t understand it.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
A month had passed since I’d announced my candidacy, and things had been nonstop ever since then. If I wasn’t in the office, I was doing campaign events. If I wasn’t at events, I was with Annie doing something that could be photographed. Marcel rode my ass at every turn to make sure that Annie and I were pictured together everywhere.
And I listened to him because he was right. Annie’s presence was adding legitimacy to my candidacy. Plus, I enjoyed spending time with her. Even doing simple things with Annie were much better than doing them myself.
For example, today, we were grabbing some groceries, a normally banal task, but Annie made it all the more enjoyable. “I can’t believe you don’t have any food in your house,” she muttered as we walked through the store.
“I don’t normally eat at home.”
She laughed and patted her stomach slightly. “Yes,” she said, “and it’s causing me to balloon.”
This made me snort with laughter. “Hardly.” Annie was tall and rail thin. When I first met her, her bones were practically protruding from her skin, and I knew it was because she could barely afford groceries. I’d never said anything, but I had made an effort to take her to the best restaurants on our dates.
“You know you don’t have to make me dinner tonight,” I said to her. “We can go somewhere, or I’m happy to hire someone.”
Annie shook her head. Her dark hair was slightly lighter than it had been a month ago, and my fingers itched to reach out and feel the silk strands between my fingers. Annie was absolutely gorgeous, and the little bit of weight she had gained just accentuated those features.
“I want to make dinner. I look to cook, and your kitchen is horribly underused.”
I suppressed a smirk. Julia had mocked Annie for not knowing how to cook, so I wasn’t sure what I was in for, but I knew enough to keep my mouth shut. Annie was the type of person who wanted to take care of the people around her. I saw that in how she treated her friend. I wasn’t the type of person who was used to people giving instead of taking from me. So, if this was what she wanted to do, then I would allow her to do it with a smile on my face and gratitude in my heart.
“Do you like pasta?” Annie asked, her nose scrunched as she looked around the store. She’d already filled our cart with various kitchen staples.
Before I could answer, my phone rang. “Shit,” I muttered, looking at who was calling.
“Is everything okay?” Annie had stopped looking for the pasta and turned her attention to me.
I nodded. “It’s fine,” I assured her. “I’ve got to take this.” I stepped away from Annie before she could question me about who was on the phone. Annie and I might be getting close, but there were some things in my life that she wasn’t privy to, and I planned to keep it that way.
Sighing, I answered the call. “Mother.” My mother very rarely called me. We had never been close, and in the past few years, we’d grown even further apart. Half the time she wasn’t even in New York, so I didn’t have to spend too much time worrying about her sneaking up on me.
It was the best way for me to stay sane.
