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Let me be clear. The death of Marlie Dixon had nothing to do with her involvement in the BDSM lifestyle. The people in this community are loving and supportive. There isn’t a club in town that wouldn’t hesitate to shun and have arrested anyone who raised a hand to a woman in anger or without consent. Instead of focusing on the fact that she was involved in kink, let’s try to solve her murder.
She hit publish and turned her attention to a plan of attack for the rest of the day. It was a challenge to keep her thoughts off Atleigh and his hatred of sex. Darci had never been quiet about the fact that she advocated for the rights of sex-workers. Decriminalizing prostitution was also on her list of things to tackle. It would go a long way to helping many people. First, she had to make sure the legislation on pornography never got to a vote and hit back where Atleigh’s statement was concerned.
By the time she needed to head to the UNN studio, she had made a dozen calls and sent even more emails to drum up support for an Anti-Atleigh protest in front of his office building. Some people thought protests didn’t work, but Darci knew they energized people to keep fighting for the causes they were marching or protesting for and when enough people took part, politicians paid attention.
She locked up her office and made her way to the studio with more of a spring in her step than when she’d arrived.
10
BRADLEY sat at his desk late that afternoon, reading Darci’s blog entry. It had been a long day. The senator couldn’t seem to comprehend why saying what he had would alienate women. After half an hour of arguing, Bradley convinced him to go along with the plan he and his staff cooked up.
Adara was already complaining about the number of phone calls the office was getting from angry female voters and women’s rights organizations. There was even talk of a protest being arranged in a few days. Bradley was afraid that if they didn’t do something, they would lose the support of key donors, and losing support this early in the campaign could be a death sentence. They hadn’t even made their official announcement yet.
After getting the senator’s stamp of approval, Bradley issued a press release clarifying his statement and offering condolences to the family and friends of the victim. He hoped Darci would come through for him with tickets to the benefit. The proceeds would go to Marlie Dixon’s domestic violence charity. There were other people he could have gone to for tickets, and there were other events he could have sent the senator to. He tried to tell himself he didn’t pick her or this event because he wanted to see Darci in another cocktail dress.
Now, as he read Darci’s blog, he was smiling and agreeing with her thoughts. It surprised him she hadn’t raked the senator over the coals. Instead, she tactfully disputed what the senator had to say and wrote another sweet memorial to the dead woman. The donation bar at the bottom of the entry was already half full. Too bad he couldn’t get her to fundraise for his boss.
Picking up his phone, he sent her a text to tell her he thought her post was tasteful. He also thanked her for not being angrier with what she wrote and asked her to let him know about tickets.
Darci’s anger wasn’t unwarranted. The senator often caused him to question why he worked for him, but the man gave him a chance, and now thanks to his early support Bradley was becoming one of the powerful and well-known campaign managers like the ones he aspired to be like. Since they announced the bid for the nomination, he had received three offers to work for other campaigns. Bradley turned them all down because he was nothing if not loyal.
As he prepared to end his day, it occurred to him to wonder what his father would have to say about Senator Atleigh’s outburst at the media last night. He made a mental note to find out. If his father raised the money, he would be a formidable adversary in the general election. If there was one thing Steve and Ailene Givens knew how to do, it was to raise money. He smiled as he thought of his mother. It was probably time to plan a trip home soon.
A frantic knock on his office door sent his thoughts scattering. “Come in,” he called as he continued placing papers in his briefcase. The door opened, and Sandra came in, looking worried.
“What’s wrong, Sandra?”
“I hate to ask, but can you possibly go on Jake Holt tonight? My kid just got taken to the ER, and I already sent my staff home for the day. I asked Adara, and it freaked her out so bad I thought she might faint.”
“Of course, Sandra, what time do I need to be there? Adara has a thing about cameras. I’m not sure I understand it myself. Go, be with your kid, and let me know if I can do anything.”
“Thanks, Bradley. You’ll be appearing on a panel with two other people. You’ll need to be at the studio in about forty-five minutes.” He took the folder Sandra was holding.
“Go. I’ve got this.”
“Thanks again. I’ll call on my way to the hospital and tell them you’re taking my place.”
She closed his door, and Bradley opened the folder. Jake Holt was a popular news anchor for UNN, and he liked to bring in people with clashing personalities to argue about current events on his evening segment. He wondered who he would face tonight on the opposite side of the panel. The piece of paper in the folder showed an extensive list of potential topics, including Senator Atleigh’s latest piece of legislation and his presidential campaign.
A half hour later, he arrived at the studio, where he was directed to a green room. As he cracked the seal on a bottle of water, the door opened. The water bottle froze halfway to his lips.
“Darci?”
She looked just as shocked to see him.
“Bradley, hello,” she said when she recovered from her initial shock. “I was told the senator’s press secretary would be appearing. Not his chief of staff.”
She crossed the room to where the bottled water sat and reached for one. As she leaned past him, he inhaled her scent. Hints of lemon and ginger hit his nostrils. It was a smell he’d grown to associate with her.
As she stepped away from him with her bottle of water, he resisted the urge to trail his finger down her neck.
“That was the original arrangement, but she had a family emergency, so I’m filling in,” he said, trying to push her delectable aroma out of his mind. It didn’t do any good, though. Her scent wasn’t the only thing he was enjoying.
Tonight, she wore a fitted black pencil skirt that hugged her hips and backside in the most inviting way. The conservative gray button-up blouse was showing only a hint of cleavage, but Bradley knew what was under there and had no problem imagining it.
“Well, I hope you won’t take anything that happens tonight personally, Mr. Givens.” She took a long drink from her bottle, her lips pulling water into her throat. He wanted to pull the bottle aside and replace it with his lips.
“Not at all, Darci. We’re both professionals. Would you like to have dinner with me after we’re done here? You never answered my text.” Her breath caught, and she sputtered on her water.
