“Come on, let’s go,” I said, knowing my words were falling on deaf ears. When numbers were involved, rushing Daniel was always an exercise in futility.

Especially when he thought the numbers were going to be scrutinized by powerful people.

“I’m nearly there,” he mumbled, tapping away at the keyboard while his eyes stared unblinking at the computer screen.

“You know, you’re wasting your time being a perfectionist on this. They’re not going to check.”

“Of course, they will. They’re senators.”

I laughed. For a man who had quickly become a critical part of my day-to-day work, Daniel still had a touch of naiveté.

“Senators only care about being able to point to the numbers and say they’ve been lied to if something blows up in their faces. If the numbers aren’t accurate, they’ll just say they had no choice to rely on them, and it’s all somebody else’s fault.”

I grabbed a vacant seat near his desk and fell into it, waiting impatiently. It only took a few seconds for my mind to wander away from where we were, and as was becoming common, it wandered straight to Jerry.

And, of course, Jerry’s daughter.

I knew from asking around that she had done a surprisingly good job in the meeting with the junior marketers, and I was quietly impressed. Actually, quietly wasn’t the right word – more like, silently. I dared not tell her in case she gained enough confidence to be useful, and then it might actually suck if she quit.

Which I was still going to convince her to do.

Probably.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like her. In the short time we had spent together, it was becoming obvious that she was knowledgeable and a fast learner, even if she was so shy that it was nearly impossible to tell. She was also kind of a delight to have around the office since she seemed to genuinely enjoy what we did.

And the sight of a young, curvy blonde certainly didn’t hurt the office morale. It didn’t hurt my morale, at least. I enjoyed the way she dressed professionally yet with a hint of what was beneath, and the way her blue eyes seemed to be always alert, always sparkling.

She was attractive as all hell, really.

But none of that changed what she had to be: Collateral damage. She could blame her dad if she ever learned that her quitting wasn’t something I caused accidentally.

“Done.”

“Fucking finally.” I sighed, glad to go to the meeting and get out of my mind. It wasn’t a fun place to be at the moment.

“How many copies?”

“Just make two for each senator so their staff gets one. And move quickly.”

He clicked a few times on his mouse and then nearly ran to the printer. “Why is this thing always so slow?” He tapped impatiently on the plastic device.

I could tell he was nervous, and I fought the urge to give him shit for it. The first thing I learned about Daniel during his internship was that the only thing he hated more than being nervous was me joking about it, and his reaction was to become a shell of his former self for at least a day.

That wasn’t something I – or the company – needed. Not now.

Nervousness wasn’t something I had to deal with, though. For me, a meeting like this with three powerful, supposedly intimidating senators was fun. Exciting.

It was a chance for me to pit myself against three men who thought themselves smarter and more powerful than me. Demonstrating that they were wrong was a challenge, but one I would happily take.

Even if William Markos had screwed up my plan. Temporarily.

“Let’s go,” I called out, leaving the large, open-plan office and heading for the conference room.

Daniel jogged to catch up, and we walked quickly toward where the senators had been waiting for nearly ten minutes. That was something else I knew Daniel hated – keeping important people waiting.

I loved it.

When we finally reached the room, I could feel the tension even as I opened the door. One second they were talking to each other, and the next, they were silent. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, not bothering to pretend I was genuine. “Anyone need coffee?”

“No.”

As I sat at my seat, I looked across the table to the source of the lone voice. Not surprisingly, it was Senator Eric Mackay – the new “honorable gentleman”, as the official title went. The little research I had done suggested that he was all about being respected, and our showing up late had to be making him fume.

Good. The bastard had sold me out, and I would have my revenge. If not now, then soon.

“Welcome to the meeting, ladies and gentlemen. Glad to see you all made it. I’m sure the tax payer is happy you seem to have brought all your staff with you.”

“Of course we made it,” Mackay said, the only voice again. “But I don’t know why the hell you think you can just summon us to meet with you on short notice.”

“Actually, I believe you were invited. And I gave you nearly four weeks’ notice, so that should be enough. None of you have the busiest schedules right now.”

He glared at me, I returned the look. I was referring to the fact that these three senators had recently found themselves removed from assorted committees after being busted joking about topics they shouldn’t.

“The information Daniel’s giving you all is all you’ll need for this meeting. I don’t think you’ll even need this much, but in the interest of transparency, it’s all there.”

“What’s there, Devon? I still don’t know what this was about.”

I looked over at Senator Mike Evans. He was a man I could reason with, and that was why I had been working through him to get the meeting scheduled. It made him the leader of their little group by default, which was important because he had the most level head of them all.

He was also very firmly attached to the gravy train that was the U.S. Senate, and I knew he would be desperate for campaign funding. His seat was on a knife edge.

“Good point, Mike. Let’s get down to it.”

I spent the next few minutes boring them with the details of the land in question, watching as their eyes glazed over. The only people paying attention were their staffers, who would soon be required to educate their bosses. I had often said that meetings would be more productive if we only invited the staff, but that was against the unspoken rules.

You couldn’t upset a senator, and excluding them was upsetting. They had to feel like they had the power, even when they didn’t.

Children, really.

Finally, I got to the good part. “So, the plan was to have you guys convince the EPA to drop their opposition to rezoning the land, and I could get it rezoned to commercial. But since your little friend over there, “ I pointed at Mackay, “is BFFs with William Markos, that plan is fucked. The new plan is equally simple: Make sure the EPA is even more vocal in its opposition.”

“Why?”

“Mike, come on. We both know the answer to that.”

“Maybe, but I’d like to hear you say it. Just so I know we’re on the same page.”

I watched him, and Mike watched me. We both knew how the game was played, and I knew I had to go along at least a little. I didn’t like it, though, because it was a massive waste of my time.

Mike wanted me to spell out exactly what I was asking for, because he was scared to make a suggestion. If he did and he was right, he would lose the upper hand in the negotiations. If he did and he was wrong, he would’ve made it clear that he was open to the idea, and that also gave me the upper hand.

It was a stupid game but a necessary one.

“Simple, Mike. You guys remind the EPA of the levels of toxins in the ground, and make sure they tell that to the state government. Often and loudly. After a while, Markos will have no choice but to let the land go, and I’ll buy it as originally planned.”

“Kind of screws you, doesn’t it? I mean, if they renew their opposition and you buy the land, you can’t do anything with it.”

That was Senator Jim Wilson – a smart man, but one who was a little out of his depth. Not that it mattered, because my staff would guide him through every step of the way. We were like a little paid-for government, except that we worked only for our own purposes.

Perhaps that’s not so different from the real thing.

“It does, but only temporarily. Besides, I have the capacity to fix the land completely, Markos doesn’t. His only way through is to convince someone to have the EPA back off so he can spend a lot less on fixing it.”

I could tell Mackay was ready to explode, but he was surprisingly calm when he finally spoke. I hadn’t predicted that he would have such a good poker face. “You realize William Markos is a good friend of my family’s, right?”

“He mentioned something about that. I wonder how that would look in the newspapers.”

“You son of a – “

Evans spun toward Mackay, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and looking into his eyes. It was like watching father calm his son.

“Sorry, Devon. Senator Mackay’s still new to this – he doesn’t know when you’re joking.”

“Don’t worry, if I’m ever joking around, I’ll let him know. But I’m not kidding now.”

“That’s blackmail.” Mackay’s teeth were clenched, opening only barely when they absolutely had to in order to get a syllable out. He seemed to be a man who wore his heart on his sleeve.

I had no respect for that.

“William Markos has owned that land for a long time, and he deserves a chance to build on it. If he fails, he’ll probably sell it to you then.”

Mackay’s voice still had a tinge of rage to it, and I wanted to push that boundary. A little, at least. Even if it might mean disaster.

“Or you guys will do what I’m asking and he’ll sell it to me in a month. That makes more sense to me.”

“And why the fuck would we do that?” Mackay’s anger was moving from “barely contained” to “very visible”.

“Because I think you value your new career more than you value Markos’ friendship. You want to get re-elected in a few short years, don’t you?”

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong – it really does. I’m the man who can fill your campaign war-chest with enough money to nearly guarantee you re-election without raising a finger. And I’m also the man who can do the same thing to your future opponent.”

The bright lights of the conference room showed Mackay’s face beginning to develop a sheen of sweat. I was getting under his skin, and there was little he could do about it.

“Again, that’s blackmail, Devon. What’s stopping me from going straight to the media with it?”

I laughed. “Senator, do you really think that works? If you go to the media, I’ll leak footage of you entering my building. How do you think that will play out in public?”

No response. Clearly, I was finally getting through to him.

I continued. “And if that’s not enough, it’s not difficult to convince one of your staffers to agree that you were here looking for campaign donations. After all, staff love new, better paying jobs.”

I resisted the urge to ask them directly and watch them squirm, but it was tough. It would have resulted in a hilarious explosion from Mackay, I could tell.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” he said, his anger returning full-force. “You and I both know it didn’t go down like that. I’ll just tell the truth.”

“Good idea. You tell the truth, I’ll tell my truth, and we’ll see if a businessman is more believable than a politician. Especially a politician who has a mistress.”

Mackay jumped from his seat, slamming the palms of both hands onto the table and leaning forward like a raging gorilla. The only thing missing from the picture was steam coming from his ears.

His staff and colleagues sprang into action, offering calming, quiet words as they talked him into sitting down.

I was reminded again of how childish people were capable of being once they found themselves with what they considered to be unfettered power.

“The bottom line is this,” I said, watching as Mackay sat down uneasily. “You guys play ball, and you get yourselves re-elected. Or, you can refuse to play, and you don’t. Plus, you’ll get yourselves in the paper for the wrong reasons.”

“This is fucking bullshit,” Mackay said, apparently unable to come up with a different description. “You can’t blackmail U.S. senators and get away with it, Carell.”

“You’re not leaving me with much choice,” I said. “I’ll say this once more: Play along, or you get voted out when you’re up for re-election. And don’t expect any cushy jobs from me or anyone I know, either.”

That caused some eyebrows to move. For a politician, the only thing scarier than being voted out was being voted out without a new and lucrative job to fall back on.

By threatening both of those things, I knew I’d put a target on my back.

It wasn’t long before the senators decided to leave, and I noticed Mike’s hand never left Mackay’s shoulder. The idea of a sitting senator throwing a punch at me was amusing, but Mike was going to make sure that didn’t happen. He was far smarter than his colleagues.

“I’ll talk to him,” Mike told me quietly once Mackay was finally out of the room, his staff right behind him. “But I can’t promise miracles. You really pissed him off.”

I laughed. Some things in life really do come free.