* * *
Georgie dodged the lead SUV while Clay had his back turned and jumped into the one carrying the luggage and extra security guards. Clay—no, she reminded herself. The senator. He was her boss. She never called him by his first name; that was reserved for her fantasies. Or nightmares, as last night had turned out to be. Call her chicken but she did not want to be in a confined space with him.
On the ride to the airport, she did her best not to think about the puzzled, almost hurt look Clay—the senator—had flashed her direction when he realized she wasn’t riding with him. At the hangar, a knot of reporters were waiting on the apron. Georgie grimaced and prepared to do battle with them. This was her job, and she was very good at it, so she needed to just suck it up and get this over with. She was out of the SUV almost before it came to a complete stop. She had her game face on by the time she reached the SUV carrying Clay. One of the security guards jogged in her wake.
“The media will want a statement, Senator. I apologize we didn’t have time to discuss preparing one.” Yeah, because she was too much of a coward to face him even though Boone said they needed to get their story straight.
“I’ll divert the reporters while you go straight to the plane. I’ll have something drafted for your approval before we reach Washington.” Georgie kept her voice and manner brusque. Professional. Just business as usual. Yeah, right. Nerves thrashed like piranha in a feeding frenzy in her stomach, but she asserted steely control.
The pack was already baying their questions as she plastered her patented I-got-this expression on her face and strolled off to wage a war of wits. She sauntered toward the reporters, held back by a line of uniformed police.
“Georgie! Georgie, hey, Georgie! What’s up with you and the senator?”
She arched a brow and stared down her nose at the reporter. Gratified when he squirmed, she rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously, Stu? Since when did you cover the gossip beat?”
“Georgie, what’s the senator’s stand on that pending eminent domain case in Utah?”
Now this was a slippery slope of a different angle. “As you know, Senator Barron’s family have been cattle ranchers for generations. The government coming in to deprive a landowner of his holdings is an issue that should play out in the courts, as this case is doing.”
“Georgie, you and the senator sure looked cozy last night at the hotel.” A female reporter surged forward, waving her microphone. “Is there something besides business between you two?”
Georgie used her oh-really? face on the reporter. “Trafficking in innuendo now, Jules?”
“The public wants to know, Georgie. Senator Barron is a very eligible bachelor. The two of you work very closely together and I have a source that says you spent the night in his suite.”
Georgie forgot to breathe for a moment as she fought to school her expression. According to the Washington press corps, she had one of the best poker faces in the business. She used it now to cover her distress.
“I’m sure all of you are aware of the security breach involving the senator’s appearance at the Western States Landowners Association event yesterday. Due to the protection detail’s concerns, all members of the senator’s immediate traveling party were relocated to the Sonoma Suite, which boasts of amenities for a large group. I’m really disappointed in you, Jules. I thought you were a political reporter. Maybe you and Stu should go to work for Inquiring Minds.”
She pivoted to leave but one last question caught her attention.
“Yo, Georgie, so this means you aren’t dating Senator Barron?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she offered the reporter—a grizzled veteran old enough to be her father—a dazzling smile. “Why, Ed? Do you want to ask me out?”
The reporters all laughed and Georgie made a mental note to send Ed a bottle of good scotch. He’d given her the perfect out and she owed him one. She glanced at the private jet waiting on the tarmac and gulped. Clay stood at the bottom of the steps, arms folded across his chest, feet braced apart. And he looked pissed.
* * *
Clay fairly vibrated with anger. Boone cleared his throat and elbowed him. “Smile, Clay. She handled it perfectly. That’s why we pay her the big bucks.”
“I want the names of those reporters.”
“Georgie will have them.”
“I don’t want her to know I asked for them.”
“Dammit, Clay. Take a breath, bud. This is Georgie’s job and she does it damn well. Don’t muck it up. She handled the situation. Subject closed.” Boone angled his head so he could watch Georgie’s approach and Clay’s expression. “Unless... Clay, please tell me nothing happened between you two.”