A Dangerous Affair (Lesbian Story)

3

Elizabeth
03 January 2015

The meeting was a complete waste of my time. Hawthorne had no intention of negotiating anything on anything. It had taken all of two minutes for her to say what she said in her honey-smoked Texan drawl.

"I know what you did for my son Liz, but don't waste your favour on this one. We're not voting the bill in."

And that was it. She'd grabbed her bag, gave me a wink, and sauntered out of the coffee shop. I hated how quick and impersonal life was in this town. She could have at least stayed for the coffee - I know I was.

The beauty of my distant participation in the party was that I had no actual accountability. Hawthorne didn't work out, I would shrug my shoulders - I tried and that's all I could really do, wasn't it.

I resolved myself to quietly enjoy a Chai latte before I had to head on to the office. It was in this quiet moment that my vision was filled with the smug, moustached grin of Thomas Hart.

Thomas Hart was an impressive and suave 33 year old shark. His charm wasn't only in his caramel skinned polished 6"6 frame but also in the people he worked for:
Trillium consortium. They were the people behind the candidates. The money behind the campaigns. By the time a candidate reached the primaries, they knew that he or she was in their corner. They had their fingers in all the electoral pies and only looked out for themselves.

"Morning Liz." He said, fixing his jacket as he held his smug smile on his bald head.

"Only my friends call me Liz."

"Oh come now, Liz. We've known each other what 7 years now. Surely there must be something there."

"Yes, disdain and loathing. "

He gave a chuckle while picking the bread rolls. "We're on the same side here, Liz."

He was a charming man. I could see from his dimpled smile and fluid hand gestures. Everything about his mannerisms seemed to say: 'Come on, you know you want to trust me'.

But I knew better than to trust the devil.

"Really," I casually respond and lean in, pretending to take a whiff at him. "Mmm, smells like bullshit...or wait, is that the smell of Republican. Rumour has it your company's been cozying up to the right wings."

The bald exec chuckled knowingly at me. "Oh, Liz, come on. The man's on his last leg. Wheelan is insane." He said, pouring his second satchet of sugar into the cup. "That bill will never make it past the oil stakeholders. Our guy is gonna fail and he's gonna fail big. And when he does, Mitchell will be there to pick up the slack and rise to the top.

Hart raised his hand in an explosive gesture.

"Governor Mitchell?" I asked. Keeping a cool head as if that information hadn't just thrown me off kilter.

"Yep. Word has it Barns spent the weekend with him in Vermont last spring putting feelers on the guy - you know, checkin' him out."

"And he wants to run? You're sure about that?"

"He wants to run." He nodded after swallowing and daintily placing his cup on the table.

"What are his chances?"

"Well, I'm here speaking to people like you again, so what do you think?"

The bastard was arrogant but honest. If Democrats started getting visits from Trillium representatives then you could bet on the running of a candidate.

"Mitchells, really." I echoed in nonchalant disbelief: "Huh! I just don't see it."

"The guys been making moves, Liz. He's got good ideas and the balls to carry them out. Have you seen him at a meet and actually talking to the people. Guys a genius Liz. He's a natural."

I scoffed: "Yes, because that's what Trilliums interested in...'his ideas'. But you know I won't be getting involved in the race until next year. I don't count my presidents before they hatch, so what do you want from me?"

"Oh, I know, Liz. But you're a little closer to this one than usual."

"We met at a conference. Sure, we're friends, but I see the guy once a year at the Christmas dinner function. Visited him what —probably once in the last ten years. That's hardly anything to be vetted about."

"Oh, we just wanted to check in on the power players you know. See how our favourite lesbian SA was doing. Keeping tabs on the support. Crossing the T's, dotting the I's. Making sure all acquaintances were on board and no one would get in the way of our candidate."

Like I said, Thomas Hart was a shark, and all this talk seemed to be him baiting me for the killer bite. I had a vague suspicion of where he was going with this, but I didn't want to believe he knew.
"Get in the way how?"

Like a predator, he waited. Stalked his prey until the correct moment to unsettle it.

"Oh, you know skeletons in the closet; criminal activity; scandal. Like a 40-something SA sleeping with the candidates daughter. That sort of thing."

And there it was.

I watched him take a sip from the cup. He had me - hook, line and sinker. On the outside, I was calm but inside, I was fuming. He continued watching me from the rim of his cup. Pushing me to make the first move: to make the first reaction.

Unfortunately, I had been playing these games before he knew what a razor cut was. He who speaks first always loses the argument.

"Is it serious?" His voice dropped to a deep burr of mischief.

"It's none of your business is what it is."

"I'm asking so we know where we are, Liz. Get a plan of action going, poll it, see if we're backing a losing horse here. Coz it will get out eventually, we just don't wanna be blindsided."

"Since when is it a crime to..."

"Oh come now, Liz. Don't be naive, I'd hate to think Wheelan has rubbed off on you. This is American politics, not the law."

He wipes his mouth with the napkin as he signals for the waiter.

"I just gave you a heads-up, Liz. Still don't think we're friends."

At that, he paid for both our orders and left unceremoniously. I may not like the man but at least he had the courtesy to stay for the drinks.

I couldn't believe Will was running for president.

Fuck!