TWO
“Jessica,” Senator Thomas Jackson greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, “I must say you look absolutely stunning tonight, as you usually do.”
“Thank you, Senator,” Sanora smiled at him, “I aim to please.”
“That you do, as always,” Senator Jackson glanced around, “I don’t see Senator Edwards here? Is he here tonight?”
“He’ll be here shortly,” Sanora slightly nodded. She knew where her husband was and she only hoped he would be finished soon. She hated political fundraisers like any normal and sane political wife, but was resigned to the fact that they were a must. If her husband had even an inkling of winning the presidency in a few years, they needed to attend all of the fundraisers in his honor—including the ones they really didn’t want to go to.
They were all the same, Sanora thought. Rich donors with very deep pockets and influential mouths. You scratch my back and I’ll give you thousands of dollars and have my very rich and stupid friends do the same. It didn’t matter if they believed in Jay’s causes or they supported his beliefs. Oh, no. It was never that easy. There were always strings—long and thick ones—attached to all donations. Jay was merely Pinocchio to someone’s Geppetto.
Sanora and Jay were masters of fake smiles, air kisses, plastic waves, and perfectly choreographed and rehearsed canned answers. Spontaneity? Forget it! Even a quick bite at a hot dog stand was orchestrated with hidden cameramen taking photos from different angles and printing them instantly online. Sanora had a team comprised of a make-up artist, a PR person, and a fashion stylist with her almost 24/7. Even when she wanted to go out for a jog, her makeup was done so she could look natural.
She knew what she was getting herself into when she met her husband that fateful evening many years ago. He was only a Congressman at that point in his career, yet he was young and hungry for more. She was impressed by his desire for greatness and his equal thirst for humiliation.
After doing unimaginable and quite unspeakable things to him, she agreed to go out on a date with him. It was love at first sight for him, though for her it took a bit longer. Still, at the end of the night, he was The One and they had never looked back.
“Well, when he finally arrives, can you tell him I was looking for him? I need to speak to him before he goes on stage tonight.” Senator Jackson commented.
“Not a problem,” Sanora smiled, “I’ll let him know.”
Throughout the night, Sanora hobnobbed and lobbied with fellow Senators and their wives; her plastic smile becoming increasingly worn in the process. She glanced down at her Cartier watch; her husband was now forty-five minutes late. Ooh, you are testing my patience, baby boy. She sipped her champagne and hoped to hell her husband would show up soon or it was going to be a very unhappy Valentine’s for them both.
She walked outside to the balcony and stared out at the glittering Los Angeles skyline. It had been a whirlwind year for her, and the upcoming trial was going to bring back harsh memories of her mother’s death. It was a day she would never forget and would never publicly speak about. But if she wanted justice, she would need to deal with the media frenzy once again. Her only saving grace was that some of them were owned and controlled by her, so she knew what would be printed and what wouldn’t.
The others, however, were loose cannons and Sanora kept a very watchful eye on them. Some of them had already started trying to locate her whereabouts, even with some agencies flying to Greece to find her. They’ll never find me, not if I can help it.
“Now, didn’t someone tell you that a lady should never leave the house without her finest pearl necklace,” a deep voice feathered against Sanora’s ears. Familiar hands caressed her bare collarbone before clasping the necklace together at the nape of her neck. “Mmm... that’s much better.”
Sanora instinctively caressed the necklace and breathed a sigh of relief. Her husband was good. Fashionably late and showed up with an expensive gift to boot; Jay knew what she wanted before she asked. “This is different from the other pearl necklace you usually give me.”
“You might get that one as well. The night’s young.” Jay turned his wife to face him. She looked immaculate with her hair in a French roll, red lipstick painted on her lips, and a very expensive designer gown that hugged her curves. He could understand why all of the other senators hated him and their wives hated her—every night he went to bed with their fantasy. “You look incredible, Mistress.”
“You know what to say to please me,” Sanora smiled, “you’re a good little boy.”
“You know I’ll do anything for you, Mistress.”
“After tonight, I most certainly hope so,” Sanora replied, not hiding the frustration and wear from playing the role of a good political wife. “By the way, Thomas Jackson is looking for you.”
“Heh, he’s always looking for me.” Jay held out his arm and Sanora grabbed it as the couple made their way to their table. “Must be a new donor he wants me to meet.”
“It’s money you could use, honey,” Sanora waved hello to passers-by.
“People want me to be president to further their agenda, not mine.” Jay nodded and waved to guests, “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about running for the presidency. If I’m a senator, no one cares, and really no one does. If I’m the president, if I go to take a shit, people will be curious what brand toilet paper I use and if it’s somehow bad for the environment.”
“The president’s ass is serious business,” Sanora deadpanned.
“Your ass is serious business,” Jay sensually replied.
“Ooh,” Sanora smiled, “is that a tingle I feel between my thighs?”
“You want to feel something else?” He suggestively asked.
“Only on my command,” she smiled as they arrived at their table and winked at him, “and only on my command.”
“Yes, ma’am.”