“Okay. So, what do you think about next Saturday night?”
“Next Saturday? That’s soon.”
“Sooner the better, right?
“Right. Yeah, sure,” I agree as I grab my phone from the desk to put it on the calendar. “What do you need me to do?” I ask while putting in the details.
“It would probably be a good idea to get some photos of you sitting on the Harley that’s up for the raffle to use on social media.”
“Okay,” I answer with a shrug. “As long as I don’t have to try and drive it.”
“Nope. Just photos. Can’t have you damaging the merchandise before people pay twenty bucks for a raffle ticket.”
“All right. What else?”
“You have to wear what I pick out for you,” he says with a smirk.
I take a deep breath and let it out. How bad could it be? “Agreed.” Before he can make any more odd demands of me, I ask, “How will we split the proceeds?”
“You get them all,” Cannon says.
“What?”
“It’s a fundraiser for your campaign. We’ll make that clear. One hundred percent of the proceeds will go to you.”
“But shouldn’t the Kings recoup some of the money for the food and drinks along with the bike?”
“No, we’ll cover it.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure,” Cannon says with a shake of his head. “We’re not as poor as you think we are.”
“I don’t think you’re poor,” I tell him honestly. “I’ve seen your house, remember?”
“You like our house?” he asks with a grin.
“It’s a great house.”
“Great. There’s that word again.”
“It’s a lovely home. You and Conrad should be proud of it,” I assure him.
“I was proud of you earlier,” he says, and I think the comment surprised him as much as it did me, because he sits up straighter and then suddenly gets to his feet.
“Ah, well, thanks,” I reply, not sure how else to respond to something so sweet.
“I’ll go see if the prospects need any help.” He starts to stride out of the room as if he’s embarrassed, muttering something under his breath. Cannon Erikson embarrassed? Now that would have to be a first. And crazy enough, I think it’s so cute that I can’t stop smiling. Also, I find I don’t want him to leave just yet when there’s something that’s been bugging me ever since the press conference.
“Cannon, wait!” I yell to stop him.
“Yeah?” he asks, one hand gripping the doorway, facing away from me.
“Do you think…should I go back to my place tonight?” I ask since I don’t want to bring up the discussion of whether he and the prospects should leave me alone. After what happened, I feel safe with them. Maybe Bailey won’t try anything, or maybe he will. I don’t want to take that chance.
Finally, Cannon looks at me over his shoulder. “I wish you would stay with me until after the election.”
“Okay,” I agree, maybe too easily as I sigh in relief. “Thanks, Cannon.”
He flashes me a quick smile, and then he’s gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Cannon
The next week and a half go by in a blur. I haven’t worked so hard since we opened up the Harley dealership. But in a way, I guess a campaign is sort of like launching a business, except that business is a person – a sexy, stubborn, and incredibly determined person.
Since Conrad handles most of the social media for the dealership, I got him to help get Madison’s set up. She didn’t seem to think it was worth the trouble, but we disagreed. So that was keeping Conrad busy while he and Hannah hid out in one of the Kings’ beach houses.
You would think that without the two of them in the house, it would mean a lot of alone time with Madison, but that didn’t happen. The prospects were always there, one in the house, one outside; and her office was always busy, which meant zero alone time with her like the afternoon after her press conference. The one when she hugged me like she meant it. I haven’t touched her since, which is probably a good thing; because once I start, I may not be able to stop, which would be bad for everyone involved.
The night of the party was on us in the blink of an eye. All of Saturday was spent getting the dealership ready. By the time we were finished with all the purple, green and gold decorations, it looked like a brand-new night club. I just hope Madison approves and people actually show up; because if not, then having the shimmering glitter covering nearly every surface will be all for nothing.
The attached Savage Kings with their significant others were the first guests to arrive. But by then, the, ah, entertainment, as the guys were calling it, were already dressed in our matching black slacks, gold eye masks, and a mountain of beads around our necks, but no shirts. We had all thrown in fifty bucks into the pool to see who can sell the most beads at five dollars each. Sure, the plastic necklaces probably aren’t worth more than ten cents. But it’s not the beads that make it worth the cash, but the fact that the buyer gets to feel us up as they remove them.
When everyone starts heading out of the lounge, I get in front of Jake and Lucas to tell them, “Forget the beads. You two are going to take turns shadowing Madison, close but not too close. I’ll let you figure out the schedule; but if I look at her and don’t see one of you within five feet, I’m going to be pissed. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they both say with a nod, their eyes wide behind their masks.
I gesture for them to go out to the main floor, following behind them. More people have started trickling in, maybe fifty, but I do a quick search for Madison and can’t find her.
“Where is she at?” Jake wonders aloud, voicing the same question I had.
“I don’t see her. Her mask is black with purple
