Page 19 of I Would Beg For You
She scoffs, then extricates her arm from mine and starts in the direction of the governor, leaving me to my own devices.
I scan the room for Naomi again. She’s still with her father.
Some insipid man comes up, and Joel introduces him to Naomi, who is graceful and the epitome of polite charm. Another one joins them, and it dawns how alike those men are. Similar height and build, blond hair, bland good looks like a store mannequin come to life. Naomi was dancing with another clone a few minutes ago.
From the corner, I stop and stare at the small grouping.
Joel is keeping the conversation going between all of them. I can make out bits and pieces—they sound like lavish praise about Naomi’s numerous stints in official government postings in the recent years. Itisimpressive. Even I’m awed by what I can hear from her resume.
Yet, one look at the clones tells a different story. Did someone forget to give them a brain at the manufacturing plant? Their faces are borderline-blank.
Worse, they’re not even looking at Naomi like she exists.
A surge of jealousy flares inside—I’ll kill anyone who dares to look at her with lust in their eyes and filthy thoughts in their minds. That’s my privilege and mine alone.
Yet, any red-blooded male must see how desirable she is. Not only does she have a fantastic body, she is the whole package.
My eyes narrow on the clones. They’re not seeing her because…
Ah, it clicks now. She’s just a connection to Joel Smith, a step up the ladder because he will be a political big wig someday, and soon, if he has his way. I hear he’s a shoo-in as Mayor. Provided nothing derails his plans.
Said plans which seem to be to pair his daughter off in an influential political match that will also look good on his ongoing campaign trail. Look at that all-American wholesomeness oozing from their little grouping.
How can Naomi not see this, not see that he is playing her like a pawn?
Because she is clueless. She has always hero-worshipped her father, not knowing what a piece of work he is.
When we Andretti boys were growing up, our father would present us with the true tale of Joel Smith. Any decision we were to come across, we were to ask ourselves this question:what would Joel Smith do?Once we had the answer, we were to do the exact opposite.
That’s how much of a scum Naomi’s dad is.
But she doesn’t know this.
And I won’t be the man to burst her bubble. She doesn’t deserve such indelible suffering on her heart.
My eyes drift back to her, and I squint.
The little minx.
Slowly, she has been creeping away from her father’s side. He’s engaged in conversation with a senator from New York, one of the clones hanging on to his every word. The other has vanished. A glimpse at her empty hand suggests she may have sent him to the bar to get her a drink.
Clever girl.
Yes, she really is the whole package.
Five years ago, honor bade I couldn’t pursue her as I might want to pursue a woman who catches my attention. Because she was barely legal.
Now here we are, somewhat in the same season…
Maybe we could pick up from where we left off.
Heat rages inside me as my pants grow tight and my eyes tunnel-vision on Naomi’s form as she draws close to one of the French doors leading to a stone balcony.
Five years ago, I had to let her go.
Today, there’s no reason keeping me from pursuing something with her.
So, I take a step closer to her in the open doorway and drop my head lightly, so my mouth is aligned with her ear.
