The race for Governor of Florida is getting tight. While the infamous “Harry’s Hacker” strikes again, candidate Russo’s image has also taken a nosedive after photos surfaced of the single-mother, wholesome, family-values candidate in a scorching lip-lock with a stranger in an elevator during an emergency situation . . .

“Ha! Ha! I won.” She had her hands up in victory. When she was worked up, she was sexy as fuck, but when she was relaxed she was absolutely adorable.

“You are a competitive little thing,” Joey said, taking off his helmet. Instead of going straight to dinner, he’d taken her to a new indoor go-cart racing track. It was a fun way to blow off some steam, and it wasn’t too intimate of a place where she’d be overthinking every little thing. He jumped out of the cart, placed the helmet on the seat, and hurried to help her out.

She pulled off her helmet and that thick long hair fell down in waves. It was the first time he’d seen her with her hair down and he absolutely loved it. His cock stirred when his thoughts went to burying his face in her hair as he slid his cock into her.

“And now I get to pick where we eat,” she sing-songed.

He shook his head, trying to clear the perverted little cobwebs roaming inside. He reached for her hand and helped her up and out of the cart. Her face was pink from the exertion and adrenaline, and just as quickly as the inappropriate thoughts left, they came flooding right back. He had to bite the inside of his cheek when she bent down to tie her sneakers. Her jeans were tight, and ripped at one knee. Her loose and flowy shirt was black with little cherries on it, and when she stood upright again and ran her fingers through her hair, the bottom of her shirt exposed a little strip of soft white skin, right by her belly button. And the fact that she’d beat him—fair and square, cutting corners, bumping his car, blocking his movements—made him want to know even more about her. She was intriguing and unique, and he found himself liking her a lot more than he should, considering they’d met less than a week ago.

“Do I have helmet hair?”

He shook his head, took her helmet, and went back to the front desk to return it, needing a moment to compose himself. He’d never noticed a woman’s hair before—not like this, at least. It was so lush and shiny . . . he needed to stop thinking or else he’d attack her like he had in the elevator. He needed to take things slow, that had been the plan for the date. He wanted her to feel comfortable and safe with him before he touched her again, otherwise she’d retreat.

He chuckled to himself when he thought about agreeing to go on just one date with her. Like he’d just let her walk away?

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Nothing. So, where to?” he asked.

A big silly smile spread across her face. “The Greenery.”

“The Greenery?” He let out a big hearty laugh. “Of course.”

“Oh yeah. The best salad bar in all of Miami.” She was practically jumping from foot to foot in excitement. “I can’t ever eat there because Sophie hates it.”

He walked alongside her to his car, careful not to reach for her hand, although he really really wanted to. “So how does a military man afford a car like this?”

He opened the door to his Ferrari and helped her in. “I won it.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “You won it?”

He closed the door and jogged around, then once he was seated in the driver’s side he continued. “I entered a contest and won.”

“What kind of contest?”

“More like a tournament. It was sponsored by an anti-virus company. They wanted to see if anyone could bypass their security system.”

“And you did? You bypassed it? And they gave you a car?” He glanced over at her and she was smirking and looking skeptical and unimpressed.

“Yep. Took me seven minutes and nine seconds.”

He turned on the car and it purred underneath them as they took off for dinner.

“You’re being serious?”

“Yeah. Completely serious.”

“Well . . . wow. I’m impressed.”

“Then it was all worth it,” he said, genuinely.

“You know, I was just teasing you, we can go somewhere else to eat.”

He turned his face and smiled. “No. We’re going there. I want you to have fun and if eating grass floats your boat . . .”

She laughed, settling back in her seat, and they drove the three miles in silence.

* * *

The Greenery was basically a no-frills salad bar. He’d wanted to take her somewhere nice. Woo her. The woman had picked a $9.99 all-you-can-eat salad bar. This was absolutely not what he’d had in mind, except that as she loaded two plates of food, she had a big delighted smile on her face. “So you’re a health nut.”

She sat down and slid one plate in front of him. “Health?” She looked down at her plate. “There’s bacon, ham, eggs, and ranch dressing on this. This probably has more calories than a burger.”

He picked up a crouton and popped it in his mouth. “Then why aren’t we eating a burger?” he mumbled under his breath.

“Try this. I promise you’ll like it. Then after, we can have a sundae. They have chocolate sauce and we can eat as much of it as we want.” She looked over at the self-serve ice cream bar.

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

She crinkled her nose. “Sorry. Habit.” She stabbed a big piece of bacon with her fork and popped it in her mouth. “We can go next door and get pizza. Seriously, it’s fine with me.”

He picked up his fork and moved things around. “I don’t think there’s anything green here.” He chuckled. “Basically, you like a shit ton of croutons, bacon, ham, and dressing.” He grabbed a forkful. “I can handle this.” The truth was, he didn’t hate vegetables. He just thought of this as an appetizer, not a meal. And it wouldn’t have been his meal of choice but he didn’t hate it.

“There’s salad in there. Look.” She pointed at him with a fork. “There’s carrots.”

“So, tell me more about yourself. Other than your weird obsession with salad.”

“It’s not weird. I’m just sick of mac and cheese and chicken nuggets.” She stuck out her tongue playfully. “Anyway, I’m sure you know everything about me already. I thought you broke into my e-diary.”

“Har har.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked between bites.

“Everything.”

“That’s a lot.” She looked up and then began to talk. “I moved to Miami when I was seventeen. Somehow I landed a job in a company that did cleaning for other companies, mostly at night while they were closed. I did that for about two years and one of the places I used to clean was the school board offices. I saw that they were hiring a temp for a secretary while another woman was on maternity leave and I applied. I don’t know how I got the job since I had no experience nor skills. But I did.”

“And you quit working at night.”

“No,” she said. “I worked both jobs. Nine to five during the day and from ten till three in the morning at night.”

“Wow.” He admired her work ethics and independence a lot. He’d always had his family’s help and encouragement—without it, he wasn’t sure where he’d be.

“Yeah. But I was young and had energy and I really wanted to make it on my own.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Anyway, one thing led to another and they kept me on and eventually I quit my night job and went to work full time at the school board.”

“And Neil. How’d you meet him?”

“When I first noticed that Lawrence—“

“That was the superintendent? The one embezzling?” he interrupted. He’d read about it online. The guy had been a world class dickhead.

“Yeah. Money went missing. A lot. Mostly reallocated. I wasn’t sure what to do. And as rumors started to spread, I was afraid I’d somehow get accused of knowing or . . . I don’t know, I just wasn’t sure what to do. So, I went to see an attorney.”

“Neil.”

“Nope. I saw three other attorneys before I met Neil. No one wanted to get involved or take the case. He encouraged me to go forward and we worked hard at getting all my ducks in a row before coming forward with the allegations. We had to go straight to the state attorney, who was likely already looking into the situation.”

“And you fell in love with your attorney.”

“Very Erin Brockovich, the entire thing,” she said, with a watery smile. This was too heavy, so he directed the conversation elsewhere.

“And you somehow became the fearless secretary that took down the big bad guy stealing from the less fortunate.”

“Something like that. I never thought I’d go into politics, but here I am. Running for governor.”

“And how did superintendent lead to Governor of Florida?”

“Not such a stretch, actually. The Miami-Dade school district is the fourth largest in the nation. I had a lot of responsibilities and people under me. Did you read how I ended up a candidate for governor?”

“Of course I did.” And he had. There was no one running against McGregor. He was expected to be a shoo-in. At a town hall meeting, Olivia had fought McGregor publicly over the need to increase school funding. She’d been very vocal and people started asking her to run against him. She refused. But when the primaries rolled around and there had still been no one running against him, people started writing her name in, and somehow she had become her party’s nominee.

“It’s kind of wild, right? I still can’t believe it sometimes. But what choice did I have, really? Once I saw how many people actually would vote for me, merely because of their unhappiness with McGregor, I decided to go for it. And now here I am. Giving speeches, having zero time for myself and my daughter, fundraising, breaking laptops . . .”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job. McGregor’s a dick and he needs a run for his money.”

“Yeah but now I’m in the same sleazy articles with him.” She took a final bite of her salad and sat back. “I was thinking, do you think it was Harry’s Hacker who took the photo in the elevator? You’ve heard about this, right? Someone keeps putting crap on the internet about McGregor. It’s actually quite funny when it isn’t you who’s the victim. I can’t help but wonder.”

He cleared his throat, almost telling her the truth, but decided against it. “No. I don’t think so. It just really doesn’t make sense. I think this person has a personal vendetta against McGregor.”

Taking a sip of her water, she nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. The hacker is pretty vicious in his posts. They’re funny but they’re also damning. I hope to God I never get on the wrong side of this person.”

“But, it’s helping your campaign. You’re getting the benefit of the fallout. It’s not bad. You should thank this hacker, really.”

She put her glass down. “You know how hard it is to be a woman in a male-dominated profession? As it is, I’ve heard how I was likely sleeping with Lawrence, which is how I got the job at the school board. Then, when I married Neil—oh, no wonder she won the case. Now, she’s winning because McGregor’s an idiot who smoked pot? No. I want to win fair and square. Plus, if people suspect that I’m somehow involved with the hacker I can get in trouble for dirty campaigning. Hacking is still illegal, Joey. I want no part or connection to it.”

Shit. Maybe he needed to stop fucking with McGregor if he wanted to have a real chance with Olivia . . . not that he’d ever get caught.

After dinner, he drove her back to her house. It had been a great night. No reporters had bothered them and she seemed to be having a good time. But they’d kept a distance. Every time her arm brushed against his, he felt the zing of sparks between them and wondered what she was thinking and if she wanted him as much as he wanted her. When they arrived at her house he jogged out of the car and around to open her door. “I’m glad I wore jeans,” she said, reaching for his hand to help her out of the low-to-the-ground car. “I had a great time, Joey. Thank you.”

He reached for her hair and wrapped a lock of it around his fingers. “Invite me in, Livie.”

She looked over her shoulder toward the house. He wondered if her daughter was home. Was that what she was contemplating?

He leaned forward, caging her in with his arms against the car. Her eyes fell to his mouth and she licked her lips and before she had a moment to think he captured her bottom lip with his teeth. She came up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She smelled of vanilla and was warm around his body, and just like in the elevator, things quickly escalated from a kiss to a crazy opened mouth, nail clawing, moaning mauling. “Invite me inside, darlin’.” Again, he demanded, while his mouth moved down her neck.

“Winnie and Sophie will be here soon.”

It wasn’t a no, he noted.

“I only need ten minutes to make you feel good.”

She pulled away, her brows furrowed. “That’s a bit arrogant. Also, kind of a letdown. I thought you military men had more stamina than that.”

Let down? Without a second thought he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. “Oh, my God!” She laughed, then kicked her legs and slapped his ass. “I can’t believe you did that. Put me down before someone sees you.”

“You questioned my machoness, darlin’.”

“I need more than ten minutes to have sex, Joey. I didn’t question your manliness. I just assumed you’re selfish in bed.”

Selfish?

He’d never had such an overbearing desire to bend a woman over and spank her ass. He put her on her feet once they were in front of her door. He took the keys from out of her hand and opened it. “Who said anything about sex?” Then he closed the door behind them and without hesitation pushed her back against the door and began kissing her again.

“I’m a lot of things, Livie. A lot. But never selfish in bed.” He wanted to bring her to that point where she was wild with need. He loved that about her. He’d never kissed nor been kissed with such need or passion. It was as if she wanted—no, needed—to be touched.

With one hand he deftly unzipped her jeans and pushed them down her thighs. “Touch me, Joey,” she begged, which surprised him. But it shouldn’t have because she was the kind of woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid of vocalizing it. And damn, wasn’t that just the biggest fucking turn-on?

He was starting to reevaluate his ten-minute time table.

He’d get her off in five.

She was that needy. He knew that the minute he slid his hand down her flat stomach and felt her soaking pussy. “Fuuck . . .” he groaned into her mouth.

They were in an awkward position, standing with her jeans still halfway on, but he made it work, and she did too—gyrating her hips and pushing down on his hand.

“More,” she moaned into his neck. “More.” She gripped his wrist and pushed his hand down, directing him to exactly where she wanted him. He was a man who knew how to follow instructions, so without hesitation he slid two fingers inside of her. Her head fell back against the door, completely lost in the moment.

He wanted to kiss her, touch her more, but he couldn’t stop watching her face. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, the way her eyes crinkled around the corner with how tightly she had them closed, the way her cupid-shaped pink lips formed an “O”, everything about the moment was erotic. She was using his hand on herself—rocking her body, her hands fisting her own hair, her body arching off the door.

“Don’t stop,” she demanded in a strangled yell.

Like he would ever stop.

But then he did. Because he wasn’t ready for it to finish this way. He regretted not having tasted her in the elevator. He wasn’t going to go home without her taste on his lips.

He pushed her pants down to her ankles and she squealed in frustrated surprise when he stopped touching her. But then he got to his knees and buried his face in her pussy, and she shut the hell up. She smelled like heaven and tasted like a heady mix of Olivia and vanilla and woman. He grabbed her ass and pulled her as close to his face as he could until he felt her tremble underneath his grip and she went from wet to drenched as she came hard against his tongue.

He pressed his head against her thigh for moment, having to catch his breath. When he finally looked up, her head was hanging down and her eyes were closed. Her face was pink and she had a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Fucking stunning.

He kissed up her thigh as he stood, then kissed her belly button, then her neck as she slowly and lazily opened her eyes.

“Good?” he asked, placing a kiss on her right cheek, then the left.

“So much good.”

Then he kissed her forehead.

“We’re going to do that again.”

“Good plan. Good plan,” she said with a soft dreamy smile.

He kissed her lips one last time, then reached down and pulled up her jeans.

“When can I see you again?” he asked.

She opened her eyes, a little confused. “Uh . . . you tell me. You always seem to surprise me.”

Again he leaned in, but this time kissed her nose. “You’re right.” He noted that she didn’t argue about a second date or have any bullshit excuses about just having fun. “Have a good night, darlin’.”

“Wait. How . . . don’t you . . . ?” She looked down at his cock, which was painfully hard. But they didn’t have time for that and he didn’t want her to feel rushed or anxious that her daughter would walk in on them.

“I’m good. You’ll get your ten minutes on me. Don’t you worry.”

He kissed her one last time, this time on the inside of her wrists, first the right and then the left. Then reached behind her for the doorknob, forcing her to step aside.

He smiled at her one last time before walking out to his car.

She stayed put for a moment, looking . . . flustered.

He didn’t want to laugh right in front of her but he was rather pleased with himself. He needed her to remember him, but more importantly want him. So that she stopped questioning herself and her feelings.

* * *

“Mommmyyyyyyy . . .” Sophie whined for the umpteenth time that evening. It was late at night, two days after her date with Joey. She hadn’t talked to him since, and she kept replaying the date back in her mind to see where it had gone wrong.

He went down on her.

She still couldn’t believe he’d done that, or that she’d begged him for more. It had felt so good, she had absolutely no regrets. But now she was questioning things.

Why hadn’t he called?

He’d asked to see her again. She hadn’t given him an answer mostly because she expected him to just show up, since that had pretty much been his MO since they’d met. But now, two long days later, she hadn’t heard a single peep.

She was devastated and hated admitting it. They’d had a connection—not just physical, but also they laughed, and talked, and had what she thought was a very good time.

God, she hated dating. Which was why she had avoided it for all these years.

Maybe he’d gotten the message about her not being able to get involved with so many things on her plate. She had tried to push him away.

She let out a deep breath and pushed down her disappointment and instead focused on the work she need to do.

“I need water!”

Olivia loved her five-year-old daughter, God, did she ever. She was the light of her life. But Jesus Christ, she was a handful. It was as if the terrible twos had morphed into the threes and the fours and now fives.

Olivia slid her laptop to the other side of her empty bed, got up, and padded to Sophie’s room.

Again.

“This is the last time, Soph. You’ve had three glasses of water already.”

“Okay, Mommy.” She gulped down half a sip and then pushed the glass back to her mother’s hand. “Goodnight.”

Sophie had the same full lips Olivia had and a cute splay of freckles on her cheeks and nose, which Olivia had had when she was about Sophie’s age. Olivia bent down, kissed her daughter’s forehead, pulled her covers up, and said good night.

Again she got into bed, grabbed her laptop, and kept on trying to work. Mark had had the brilliant idea of using social media and the internet to disseminate her fiscal plan instead of scheduling another event. The details of her agenda were going to be uploaded via a pre-recorded Facebook video the next morning and she was excited to see how it would be received. The good thing about it was that if all hell broke loose, she wasn’t in front of a group of angry protestors.

Thoughts of Joey kept creeping in and messing with her concentration as she tried to make sure everything was in order for the next day. After the seven o’clock post, she had an intimate speech at a meeting room in a hotel in downtown, and then the rest of the day was a slew of back-to-back meetings. She would be lucky if she got home by ten in the evening tomorrow. Thank God for Winnie and her availability to watch Sophie all the time.

But Joey’s blue eyes, those dimples, the way the material of his shirt around his bicep pulled, was what kept drifting through her mind. She especially loved how she had to look up when she spoke to him. At five foot ten, she was usually either the same size or taller than her dates, especially when she wore heels, but not with Joey.

And damn, had she wanted him to kiss her goodnight. Why hadn’t he? “Arghh,” she whispered out loud.

“Mommmmyyyy! Mommmy!”

Being a single mother was rough, and being a single mother with a demanding job was nearly impossible some days. Again, she got out of bed and crossed the hall to her daughter’s room. It was almost two in the morning and she still had so much to do.

“What now, Soph?”

“You didn’t check under the bed. Check under the bed. There could be monsters, Mommy.”

“Sophie, honey, I’ve checked under the bed, I’ve checked the closet. I’ve gotten you water, I’ve lowered the temperature and I’ve read you two bedtime stories. Go to sleep.”

Again, Olivia walked back into the room and just as she expected, a minute later, Sophie was standing in front of her bed, tears in her eyes and her blankie draping behind her. Knowing that there were battles worth fighting, Olivia closed her laptop, put it on the night table and lifted the covers for Sophie to climb in. It was late, at this point, all they’d do was frustrate each other and eventually Sophie would end up in her bed anyway. So she skipped the middleman and just let her daughter in the bed.

“I love you, Mommy.”

The girl had her wrapped around her finger. She kissed her cheek and turned off the lap. “I love you too, sweets.”

Exhaustion took over almost immediately. Work would have to wait. Within minutes, both were fast asleep.

Four hours later, Olivia was sitting on her couch, the laptop on her lap, a mug of coffee in her hand, awaiting for the scheduled post.

As soon as it went live, the comments, likes, and shares began to flood her professional Facebook page. She was nervous about turning on the television. Around eight in the morning, Mark called her.

“Did you see the news? No major issues. Representative Warner had a few choice words to say about the appropriations to Florida Fish and Wildlife and the Everglades Preservation Project, but that was expected. McGregor has a press conference scheduled this afternoon and I have our interns answering questions on social media.”

She exhaled. “Okay, great. It’s still early, people are still waking up. We’ll see how things go throughout the day.”

“Are you on your way to take Sophie to school?”

She and Sophie were already ready. “Yes. As soon as Tom gets here we’ll head out. I’ll see you in about forty-five minutes.”

“Be wary, Miami has a putrid smell of algae this morning.”

“Really?” She hadn’t stepped outside yet. “Okay.”

“See you soon,” Mark said, hanging up. Shortly after, Tom arrived and Olivia headed out to drop off Sophie at school and then make her way to the hotel where she was supposed to be giving a speech.

* * *

Olivia was used to speaking in front of large crowds. She stood behind the podium and smiled and began talking. She spoke about her major platform points which were education and the local environment. First she gave the crowd her well-known history working at the school board and all the groundbreaking changes she’d made during her tenure. She promised to continue to fight for the children, especially funding programs to help the special education initiatives she’d created. She was a big advocate of innovative approaches for children on the autism spectrum as well as alternative teaching methods for children diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder while trying to avoid medication whenever possible. She understood how it wasn’t always possible, but before going that route, she wanted parents to have tools available to them in the public school system. There were pushbacks, even in her own party, regarding the cost it would take to run these programs, but her budgets were rock solid and she believed in this wholeheartedly.

Then, came her other big platform. The Everglades Preservation Project. This was causing the most pushback, more than any gun control initiative and even more than some controversial bonds that had been proposed. There were some big-time lobbyists, mostly within the sugar industry, who wanted to carve out thousands of acres of the Everglades. She, on the other hand, wanted to get back miles and miles of land from the sugar industry in order to build new dams, which was one of the ways to control the algae. She was also a big advocate of regulating the sugar farmer’s pesticide run-off into the Florida waterways. The toxic algae that had sprung up a few months earlier was causing the environment to be pushed forward as a major topic of the campaign and she had been hard-nosed about her stance. Luck was on her side, as messed up as it sounded, because the horrible stench outside was a perfect segue into the conversation. There was no way anyone could deny that the pollution was a real thing when they couldn’t walk outside without being hit head-on with the sickening smell.

When she was finished with her speech she was received with a standing ovation by most. Not all. The few boos, however, didn’t overshadow the success of the morning.

What had made Olivia climb the political ladder so quickly was the way she’d gotten through to her constituents. She was firm in her platform but listened. She had compassion where her opponent tended to be somewhat removed and a bit callous. She could see the other side’s point even if she didn’t agree with it, and that helped her get through to them because she anticipated every move, every posture. And at the end, she may not have gained their vote but she’d definitely gained their respect. And eventually, as it was with politics, when her opponent screwed up, the scales would tip in her favor. At least that was how she ran her campaign. It wasn’t the customary way, but it was her way, and Mark and the rest of her staff supported her one hundred percent.

“That was great, Livie,” Mark said as he led her off the stage.

“They were tough,” she said, looking down at her phone.

“We expected that. Still, you held your own.” They walked briskly to the car as he read something on his phone. “The polls are looking favorable.”

“Good. Good. Is lunch with John and Muriel still on?” John was a local commissioner who’d been very supportive, and Muriel was his wife.

“Yes. Let’s go, we’re running a little late.” Mark looked around for her Lexus. “Where’s Tom?”

The driver slash bodyguard wasn’t working out so well. Maybe Joey had gotten into her head and made her open her eyes, but Tom wasn’t great. At all.

He was never around when she needed him, like during his smoking break at the fundraiser. Truth be told, she’d been opposed to having a bodyguard to begin with, but it was customary to have one and Florida, being such a populous state, sometimes the crowds were overwhelming.

On one occasion, when she’d been swarmed by cameras while having dinner alone with Sophie, she’d relented. “He was by the left wing of the stage while you were speaking. I told him to bring the car around,” Mark said. As he was pulling out his phone to call Tom, the car pulled up.

Olivia pointed. “Come on, he’s here.”

Tom jumped out of the car and around to the passenger side to open the back door for Olivia. When she didn’t have to drive, she preferred to sit in the back with Mark and get some work done from the car.

As soon as she stepped inside she gasped, her palm covering her mouth.

“Oh my God!” She held out her hand to stop Tom from closing the door.

“What is it, Ms. Russo?” he asked.

She pointed to the back of the leather seat. Carved into the black leather in jagged edges, the seat’s stuffing spilling out, it said LIAR.

Mark ran around to the other side of the car and opened the door. “Shit,” he gasped, looking at the back of the driver’s side passenger seat where the word WHORE was carved into the leather.

“Outta the car, Ms. Russo,” Tom demanded, pulling her out.

Whore?

Liar?

Her hands and legs began to tremble.

There were photographers around and she didn’t want to draw attention, but they were leaving a conference full of local politicians and Tom, a big hulk of a man, and Mark, her older but also very fit advisor, were both standing with phones in hands, talking, arms flailing, looking not at all calm, cool, or collected. “Stay back, Ms. Russo. Police are on their way.”

“You didn’t check the vehicle before you drove up?” Mark asked. Olivia didn’t know much about bodyguarding but that seemed like a logical thing for him to have done.

“It’s a four-door sedan. There wasn’t anyone in the backseat or anything.” She supposed that was true. Why would he check the back of the seats? But how’d they get inside?

“Was the car locked? I mean, the windows aren’t broken, so either this person had the keys or you left it unlocked,” Oliva said, shaken up by the words.

Liar. Whore.

The only reason she could think for the word “whore” was her date or elevator makeout session with Joey. Liar—well, it was standard political crap. But whore? That was personal.

When she’d run her first campaign, her opponent for superintendent had called her all sorts of things from insinuating that as a single mother she was not equipped for the position to saying she was uneducated and therefore not qualified. This was not her first rodeo, but it was the first time the words had shifted into something physical. Vandalizing her car was not the same thing as a Twitter post or television ad.

“Of course it was locked,” Tom replied indignantly. He looked around as if searching for clues and then moved closer to the door. “Look.” He pointed to a bunch of tiny, barely noticeable scratches by the back passenger-side window. “Someone picked the lock. In a car like this, you really have to know what you’re doing to get inside.” Then he jogged to the front and bent down underneath the steering wheel.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked.

“I’m looking for—yep, they disengaged the alarm when it went off and then reconnected it. Whoever did this went through a great deal of trouble, Ms. Russo.”

”Shit,” she whispered.

The next two hours were chaos. Tom’s employer, G & F Security Services, had come in and started barking orders which riled up the police who were heading some sort of investigation. Everyone had told her, none-too-nicely, that she needed to get back into the building as it was uncertain who had done the vandalism and whether it was safe for her to be outside in the open. Meanwhile, everyone who had a cell phone had taken photos and videos of the scene. Needless to say, she’d missed lunch and it wasn’t until five o’clock in the afternoon that she finally headed home—exhausted from a rough night with Sophie, an early morning because of the Facebook post, and the scare from the events at the speech. All her afternoon meetings had been canceled, which meant that her already hectic week would surely be even busier as these meeting would have to be squeezed in somewhere. She was answering emails from her phone, distractedly, when she finally walked into her house.

“You’re all over the news.” Winnie, who picked up Sophie from school daily, was waiting for her inside. Snatching the phone from Olivia’s hand, she replace it with a glass of wine. They’d spoken throughout the day, and Winnie knew about the incident.

She should have been all over the news for her innovative campaign strategy and for her budget plan, instead she was all over the news because of a bullshit vandal. “Just politics,” she said, trying to soften the situation and not wanting to worry her friend.

“Come on, Livie. Who do you think you’re talking to? It’s not just politics. This is getting out of hand.” She took the wine from Olivia’s hand. “You’re shaking.”

It was intense, and in between emails and phone calls she was trying to come up with a reason why someone would do or say this to her.

“Why don’t you go take a hot bath and I’ll stay until you’re all settled. Soph is upstairs watching HGTV. That girl is something else.” Winnie shook her head and laughed.

A hot bath sounded like heaven. She took her wine and went upstairs to try to forget what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Olivia woke up startled and confused.

How had she ever found those door chimes melodic?

She groaned and sat up, wiping her palm down her face and looking around her darkened room. What time was it? Hell, what day was it?

Sophie!

That was the first thought that crossed her mind as the door chimes rang again. In a state of confusion she turned to see Sophie sleeping soundly next to her in bed. Then she ran to the front door, unthinking. As soon as she opened it she startled for the second time in the last two minutes.

“Uh . . .” was all she said as she looked at Joey. She grabbed his arm, turned it, and looked at his watch, causing him to chuckle. “Shit, it’s midnight.”

She vaguely remembered saying goodbye to Winnie, then watching TV in bed with Sophie. At some point, they both must have fallen asleep. “What are you doing here?”

She reached up to her hair, which was surely a rat’s nest. And oh God, what was she wearing? An old threadbare T-shirt from the community college she’d attended part-time determined to get a college education. Tugging down the shirt to cover herself, she let him in.

“I was out of town on a job. I got here as soon as I could. I called but you didn’t answer so I came straight over,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

She titled her head and furrowed her eyebrows, still confused.

“You were on the news? The vandalism?”

Of course. He saw it, everyone saw it.

“Make yourself at home. Give me a second.” Still in a state of disarray, she jogged to her room and grabbed a robe and her phone.

“Shit. I didn’t charge it. It’s dead,” she commented as she walked back to the living room to deal with the gorgeous man.

His wide back, which looked like an upside down triangle, was taut against a black polo, and he was looking at a framed photo of her with her daughter. Placing it back down, he turned around just as she sat down on her sofa and gestured for him to sit too. “Why are you here again?”

He scooted closer. “You look tired, Livie.” He ran this thumb across the skin under her eye.

“My daughter’s been giving me hard nights, and between that and work and then the stress of today—” She yawned mid-sentence. “I guess it all just hit me at once.”

He brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed her wrist softly. “I’m worried. This is more than an angry voter.”

“I know.” And she did know that. It was obvious that she was in some sort of danger. The degree of the danger, she wasn’t sure.

“You didn’t even look before you opened the door.”

“You startled me. I was confused and half asleep. I’m normally very careful.”

He looked around as if someone would just materialize. “Where’s Tom?”

“Tom? I don’t know. At his home? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Why isn’t he here with you and Sophie? He should be here.” Joey stood and walked to the back wall where there were two sets of French doors and wiggled them. “Has he looked at these? Are they impact-resistant? Are they connected to your alarm system?

“Jo—”

“How up-to-date is your alarm? Is it monitored? Are you consistent about arming it? It should always be armed, Livie.”

“Joey!” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Stop. I don’t know the answers to those questions. Until yesterday or early today or whatever, I wasn’t even convinced I needed security.”

“I hope you are now.”

She let go of him and moved back to the couch. “Yes. I think so. I mean, I don’t know what’s going on, but that was scary. And at the least, I need someone better than Tom.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said, awkwardly.

So . . . was he staying? Leaving?

For the first time, she noticed the scruff on his face was thicker, and the short hair on his head was longer. And he too had bags under his eyes. “You look tired too.”

Stifling a yawn he responded. “Yeah. Had a job in Tallahassee. Drove up last night, came right down. Haven’t slept much.”

She stood up and stretched a little. His eyes roamed down her body and she tightened the robe self-consciously. God, his eyes alone were enough to set her on fire. She couldn’t help but think of the way his lips and hands felt around her. “So . . .”

He sat back comfortably. “I think I’m going to stick around.”

“Pardon?”

Causally, as if he’d been there a thousand times, he put his boots on the ottoman and one of her throw pillows behind his neck.

“On your way back to bed, could you hit the lights?”

Had she been hit on the head? Was she understanding him correctly? Or maybe he was the one not making any sense. “Are you . . . are you sleeping here?”

He yawned again and waggled himself deeper into the couch. “Trying to.”

“But . . . wait, what?”

“I like you. I want you safe. You have a daughter. You need to keep her safe. I’m the guy who’s gonna do both those things tonight. But now, I’m tired. So hit the lights on your way out and make sure you armed your alarm, which we’ll discuss tomorrow.”

Damn him. He’d brought up the safety of her daughter.

“I don’t like being steamrolled.” She scowled and pushed his legs off the ottoman, feigning annoyance. “But . . . thank you.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Sleep tight.”

“’Night, Joey.”