“Is this how you decided to fight against this 'President Player' scandal?” I ask her, cocking one eyebrow. My sources were right, but I never thought that Tracy would come in here with something as crazy as this.
“You’re right. How do you know?”
“I have my ways, Tracy,” I simply tell her, not wanting to give her more information than necessary. Secrecy is another important pillar in this business.
“I take it you’re familiar with what has been going on then?”
“I am,” I reply, thinking back to the confusion outside of the Sofitel Hotel, and how every single channel on TV seemed to become completely obsessed with President’s Austin sexual escapade with the South Korean ambassador.
“Well, we’ve devised a PR strategy to pull the President out of the mess he’s in… And, like I said, that’s where you come in, Ashley. If you accept this job, you’ll become his fiancée so that he can rehabilitate his image.”
“That’s all fine and dandy, but why come to me? I bet there’s a small army of eager women more than willing to play that part. I mean, he’s the 'President Player,' after all.” I know, maybe I shouldn’t have jabbed at her like that, but what can I do? I’ve never been a big fan of President Austin, or any other politician, for that matter.
“Let’s just say I’ve been following your … career. You’re an interesting woman, Ashley, and I always thought that a woman with your skills could be needed in a time of crisis. You’re smart, discreet, and above all else, you won’t get personally involved. And that’s exactly what the President needs right now.” She makes a short pause, perhaps for dramatic effect, and then clears her throat. “I know this is a lot to take, so feel free to take a minute and let all this sink in.”
“I don’t need to take a minute,” I say right away, making my decision in a heartbeat. “My answer’s no. I’m not interested; a job like that would draw too much attention toward myself, and that’d be game over for my company.”
I’m saying no, but you wanna know something?#p#分页标题#e#
My brain is the one controlling me here. Because the reptilian part of me - the part that’s only thinking about sex – is screaming yes. It wants to take my body and lay it all over Austin Bain. To lick his abs. To rub his cock in my face. To grab his ass cheeks and squeeze.
The part of me that’s not talking wants to make a condition that I’ll be his fake fiancée only on the condition that he takes my virginity. Then cums buckets of cum all over me. Makes me scoop it up and swallow it. And then defiles me all over again.
Seriously, you gotta be insane to pass up sex with this President. Probably the hottest man who ever walked the planet.
But again, my brain says no.
“Ashley, please. Think this through. Your President needs you. Your country needs you. Austin is doing good work, and I believe he might be the change this country has been sorely missing. I believe in him, or else I wouldn’t be here right now, asking for your help. Please reconsider,” she asks me and, even though I’m more than used to this for-the-greater-good bullshit, I can tell that Tracy believes it.
“I don’t care if he’s the President. He’s still a DC politician, and I know the type. Forget about the United States or the greater good; Austin is President because he has a massive ego, nothing more. Besides, DC politics is something I’m really not interested in.”
“We’ll pay you. We’ll pay you very, very well,” Tracy says, switching gears in a fraction of a second. Maybe she’s thinking that if she can’t reach me through emotion, she might be able to do it through my bank account.
“Answer’s still no,” I sigh. “I’m doing well for myself, as you can see,” I say, casually waving my hand at the office.
“Twenty million,” she then shoots, and I have to take a moment. Did I hear right? 20 million to pretend to be someone’s fiancée?
“I told you, I’m doing well,” I reply, trying to sound casual even though my heart has picked up an urgent pace. 20 million is a lot of money, even if business is booming. That much money could be enough for me to change my life for good… I could stop seducing old men for a living. As fun as it is, it isn’t exactly something I want to be doing for the rest of my life.
“How much do you want then? Our pockets are deep.”
“50 million,” I reply, my heart now beating so fast that I feel lightheaded. With 50 million in my pocket, I could just pack my bags and leave this world of intrigue behind me. I could start a new life wherever I want. Maybe try and do something that really matters.