I may have been awol but I hope this chunky chapter makes up for it. All mistakes my own as I've been tinkering even while I upload 😂. Thanks as always to Mel, May and Meg for helping to whip this into shape.

Chapter 10

•

Chaotic

"The Senator is in D.C. at the moment," Kate tells me as we walk through pristine white halls with sanded herringbone floors, into an office with walls of books. Everything is modern and sleek, apart from the building itself.

The news that Edward isn't here doesn't surprise me; I'd seen him on a news report last night from Washington, a figure of calm in the glare of opinionated debate. Kate, however, does. A blunt bob of blonde tucked behind one ear, a fitted pantsuit and high heels. She's different from what I imagined she'd look like after our brief conversation on the phone, and I'm not sure what to make of her just yet.

On the surface, she's been kind, but I can't help but wonder whether she thought there had been a mistake. It had taken a little too long for me to recover from the revelation that the number I had dialed didn't belong to Edward at all, but to his office—and then for me to realize that the only logical conclusion I could draw from it: he wanted me to intern.

"He should be back tomorrow," Kate adds. "You could meet him later this week if all goes well."

She turns her head and assesses my face when I say nothing, and seeing the uncertainty that must be all over it, she laughs.

"Don't worry," she says. "He's a lovely man. Very down-to-earth."

"Yes. Of course," I say, mustering up a smile. "It just feels nerve racking. Surreal, in a way."

"Well, don't let that show. He'd probably find it flattering. And sometimes that's the last thing Edward needs."

Kate sits behind her desk, gesturing for me to take the seat opposite. Family photos are displayed behind her on a mantel. I study them as she taps away at her laptop. Her family: very young blond children on her knees, a tall, fair-haired man next to them, all beaming at the camera. The next frame is of her alone with Edward, both dressed up in evening attire, looking considerably younger—and close, his hand on her waist. A sign their relationship must span over years. I'm deliberating on just how well Kate knows Edward, when she interrupts.

"When does your semester end?" she asks conversationally.

"Technically it's already finished," I reply. "My thesis is due next week."

"And are you a finish-at-the-last-minute kind of student like I was, or are you more disciplined?"

I breathe a laugh. "Disciplined. I couldn't stand the pressure of leaving it until the very end. Undergrad, you could probably get away with, but not for a graduate program. I'll upload it tomorrow and sit on it until Monday, I think. To be sure."

"The fact you have time to do that is something to be proud of, believe me. Tell me about your motivation for doing a post-grad?"

"A career in politics is all I've ever wanted," I confess, heavily. "Not on the frontline, but working behind the scenes. Perhaps policy—perhaps diplomacy, if I'm any good. But the past few years have been difficult, and that goal has seemed more out of touch than ever. Until now, I suppose. Interning would mean the world."

Kate smiles sympathetically, and I know in my gut that Edward has somehow already enlightened her to my dad's plight. The Hows and Whys aren't something I dare question, because the only person who can really answer isn't here. I go along with all of it, determined to keep my never-ending surprise concealed as well as I hope the dark bruise on my cheek is.

"I just want to make it clear that if you need time off for whatever reason, that's fine. You could take the internship on a part-time basis too, if you'd prefer."

I glance down, fiddling with the temporary pass issued at the reception desk. Inside I squirm—knowing my situation marks me as difficult, or problematic, and how the empathy Kate is giving me makes me want to defend myself and justify this opportunity even more.

"Thank you," I mumble instead. "I think I would have to for now. As long as that's not to my detriment?"

Kate looks surprised. "No, not at all, Isabella. Please, don't thank us. Decency is what runs this office. I mean that. It's central to the backbone of the team Edward's created. We're all human after all, so we act like it. We know people have lives outside of work. We support each other, and when times get tough, which they will as we enter the election campaign trail, it helps us face the challenges as one. Makes us stronger as a team. A family, if you like. That you can rely on. Depend on. Please, don't think otherwise."

My smile doesn't betray the sheer irony of the situation. Kate is as oblivious as anyone else to the layers of deception Edward has carefully crafted for me to be seated here with her, and if she had any inclination at all… I doubt she would be so nice. If she senses any discomfort on my part, she doesn't show it. Instead she smiles again.

"Let me give you a run-through of what we do here."

Over the next few minutes I learn that the Chicago office handles constituent correspondence, some, but not all, legislative research, press and briefings for when Edward's here, and the election campaign administration—the D.C. office bigger and handling more, naturally.

"It's a very forward-thinking environment in terms of remote collaboration between the offices," Kate carries on. "Although, secretly I think Edward enjoys being in this office much much more than the Capitol though."

"Why do you think that is?"

"He's closer to the people he represents, friends and his family. They do visit from time to time, so don't be shocked if Tanya appears at some point. Although she's away filming at the moment. A lot of people get starstruck by her, but she's incredibly easy going. The main reason though—if you've never worked in D.C, and you want to, let me warn you—it can be quite the soul-sucking experience."

"That bad?" I query, keeping my focus on anything other than the mention of Tanya.

"Not always, but sometimes. It's all too easy to work around the clock. I force Edward to take breaks, but left alone with Laurent — that's his PA, he'd work none stop. It's why my husband and I relocated as soon as we knew we were having Carter."

"How old are your children?"

"One and three."

"So little. How do you cope with all of this?" I gesture around the room.

"I don't." Kate laughs. "It's a struggle, but nowhere near as bad as it would have been had it remained where I was in D.C. Edward poached me away when he was first elected. We'd known each other for years before that though. My husband is his cousin."

"Oh, wow," I say, surprised.

"I know. We go a long way back. Anyway, back to the reason why you're here— the intern program we run… I run, really. I like to rotate our interns for the first four months so you have experience in each area—legal, press, correspondence, and of course electoral administration. Then we can decide together which you prefer—we can then tailor learning and work to your strengths for the rest of the internship." She stands, inviting me to do the same.

"Let me show you around."

The office tour Kate gives me is lengthy, and I can't remember the names of half the people she introduces me to because my mind is buzzing with all the possibilities that this opportunity would give me. It would be the first step onto a very long ladder to a career I can be proud of in the long-term, whereby escorting could become a very distant memory.

At the end when Kate asks if I'll accept the position, even the deepest of my reservations doesn't stop the emphatic "yes" falling from my lips.

•

I'm not the only intern that starts the following Friday—I spend the entire morning with Riley and Eric, getting sorted with logins and passes, before we're finally assigned an area for the next month. Conversations are batted back and forth between us on everything from our own political affiliations, to schools and hobbies. It keeps me occupied because Edward's here, and that knowledge sets me on edge. I'm even more unnerved when Kate pops her head into the break room at lunch and tells us Edward wants to meet us all when we're all finished.

Filing into an empty conference room not twenty minutes later, we fall into a line. Eric brings out a paper towel, dabbing at his brow, where beads of sweat have gathered. Riley busies himself with brushing non-existent lint off the suit jacket he's wearing, and I find myself completely and utterly still—a deer in headlights, watching them both with mild amusement.

Riley catches my eye, a long look where his bright blue eyes narrow.

"You seem remarkably calm," he quips, running a hand through sandy brown hair.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. Because usually people get nervous meeting their idols?"

"Maybe he's not my idol." I shrug. "He's admirable, sure, but putting him on a pedestal is weird."

"He has a movie star wife, and a career on a trajectory that could see him as President one day… What's not to idolize, Swan? He's aspirational in every sense of the word."

"Do you have a shrine to him, Riley?" I tease. "Posters on your wall."

"No. But I bet Eric does. I bet he jerks off over it."

"Don't be awful to him," I chide.

Riley grins at me, his voice lowering. "What are you going to do? Tell me off? I think I'd like that."

I shush him good-naturedly and Riley laughs loudly, just as Edward strides into the room. He's every bit the man he was on the stage in the lecture hall, and on the television last night. Groomed, confident—professional.

I wait with bated breath as Kate introduces Edward to Eric first, listening closely as they have a short conversation about his background, but I don't dare look toward him again because just the sound of his voice does little to quiet the turbulence of emotions I seem to be battling through—the nervousness that betrays itself in the way my legs tremble underneath me. Riley's observational skills are severely lacking if he thought I was unaffected by meeting Edward here—now.

Edward moves onto Riley, his proximity making me practically vibrate with anticipation.

Until finally—finally—he's standing there in front of me and I'm looking up into dark eyes and seeing the satisfaction flickering in them.

"This is Isabella," Kate says from somewhere to the side of us. "You liked her resume and cover letter," she prompts.

I try not to let any surprise show, because I hadn't submitted either.

"I remember," Edward says, the timbre of his voice low, betraying nothing. It makes me wonder what else he remembers. My mouth on him? His hands all over every inch of my body? His mouth curls infinitesimally, as if to tell me he remembers it all.

"Pleasure to meet you, Isabella," he says as he takes my hand in his. There's no hesitation now as he brushes a small circle over the thin skin on the back of my hand, the action going unnoticed by anyone else.

"Senator—"

"Please, call me Edward," he interrupts. "All of you," he adds, loud enough for Eric and Riley to hear.

"He doesn't like the formal stuff," Kate says as Edward's hand returns to his side.

"Pleased you've finally noticed, Kate," he says dryly. "Only taken you four years. Talk to me, Isabella," he adds casually. "Tell me about yourself."

He knows me, but I play along anyway, following Eric and Riley's leads. Like this is the first time I've met him, all over again. Basic, boring facts he's undoubtedly discovered for himself.

"I prefer going by Bella," I admit. "I'm twenty-four, and Chicago is home. I graduated with a 4.0 GPA from Ann Arbor. For the last two years, I've been studying at the University of Chicago for my post-grad, majoring in Political Science. On Monday, I'll submit a thesis around prosperity and equality through public policy for grading. The whole process has been hugely gratifying, and I'm just very grateful for this opportunity. I just really hope that it's not wasted on me."

Edward's expression softens.

"You're as deserving of this opportunity as anyone else. I have every faith you'll make the most out of it."

"I hope so."

Edward hums, his eyes wandering over my face, a small frown appearing as his attention lingers on my cheek. I move my hair to cover it, just in case.

"Well, welcome, Bella," he says, inviting Riley and Eric back into the conversation. "I'll be around. Feel free to stop by and have a chat anytime."

▪︎

We're never alone for a second.

I don't need to report or interact directly with Edward, and despite his open invitation to us all, I avoid him. It's too tempting to give in to the pull, to let myself be reeled in, when all I want to do is get to a grip of the daily tasks I've been given by Edward's Chicago Press Officer, Jenks, on the few days I'm in the office and not caring for my dad.

A torturously slow week passes, and I spend the majority of it gathering press reports and collating them into documents. Highlighting areas that may need attention—decisions that need to be made by Jenks to inform overall PR strategy for the Senator.

It's a balancing act, I'm told… But it's rather unchallenging, and seeing every bit of Edward and Tanya's relationship dissected makes the guilt wash over me all over again. By the afternoon, I'm submerged in it. Article, after article, speculating on the state of Edward's marriage, slowly sapping any joy from earlier in the week.

One tabloid cites the long distance between Edward and Tanya as causing a strain, backed up by an anonymous source that claims Edward is burning off the tension by golfing and dining intimately with other women. This article is accompanied by a picture of him doing just that—a cropped picture, as it turns out, of a team lunch in Washington designed to cause maximum damage, but completely innocent.

Then there are the articles where he's only fleetingly mentioned, with the bulk of the text referring to Tanya—pictures of her in Australia, on the set of her Outback-murder movie, and of course the obligatory snaps of them together—at the Oscars last year, looking blissfully happy, their courthouse wedding, a beach trip in Tulum after Christmas, his hands on her as they stand in the crystalline water, kissing deeply.

Riley comes by my desk not long after I bow my head and close my eyes trying to scrub the images from my mind. He startles me as he leaves a cup of coffee silently next to me and I'm graced with the view of his retreating back as he carries on to his desk. I turn the coffee cup around, spotting a bee drawn instead of my name, finding that the order is exactly what I asked for when Eric did a coffee run earlier this week. It shouldn't, but it makes me smile, and I make a point of finding Riley later to thank him.

"You looked like you needed it," he says, leaning back in his office chair, casually. "But if you really want to thank me, you can get lunch with me tomorrow if you like. Or dinner. There's this great Italian place down the street."

It's forward and takes me completely by surprise. Riley is by no means a bad looking guy. In fact, he's cute in a preppy kind of way … but I find both him and Eric so young that I can't entertain it, or take it seriously, even though we're similar in age.

If I were any other twenty-four year old girl, I'd be silly not to take him up on the offer.

But… He's not more than a boy, and I've been with too many men.

Before I can answer, we're interrupted by Kate rushing over, juggling her handbag, a file, and a Burberry trench coat.

"Bella, can you take this to Edward please?" she asks breathlessly, handing me the file. "I would, but I'm running late for nursery pickup and—"

"It's fine," I tell her, taking the folder from her as she slides her arms through her coat, cursing.

"Thank you. He's expecting it, so now if you could. It's important. See you tomorrow, Riley, and you on Thursday, Bella."

Kate disappears as Riley's eyebrows raise. "You're not in tomorrow?"

"I'm not in tomorrow," I echo. "Part-time for now."

"Why's that?" he asks curiously.

I chew on my lip, sighing tiredly as a wave of emotion crests, a tiredness from sleepless nights at a bedside and the heartache of witnessing the pain. "My dad is receiving palliative care," I tell him, unable to keep my voice from wobbling.

"Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

"Me too," I tell him sadly. "So maybe some other time. For lunch. Or dinner," I suggest, hoping it lets him down gently enough.

"Sure." He looks at me carefully, and then with some awkwardness says, "If you… If you ever need someone to talk to, just let me know. I'm not sure I'll say the right things, but sometimes just venting helps… I'd be good at listening. My sister says so anyway."

I find nothing but sincerity in Riley's eyes. It's cute. And I don't feel deserving.

"Thanks. That's really nice of you."

"You'd better take it to the boss," Riley prompts, a hint of red to his cheeks as he nods to the file in my hands.

"Yeah." I sigh. "I suppose I'd better."

We say our goodbyes, before I retreat into the corridor and up a flight of stairs toward where Edward's office is located, steeling myself.

His door is wide open as I approach. Head bowed, Edward is typing rapidly on his Macbook, not deigning to look up even as I come to a stop in the doorway. I take the opportunity to study him: the imposing figure he cuts, seated behind the desk he fought hard for. There's a deep set frown line in the middle of his forehead as his eyebrows knit together, his thick dark head of hair cut short around his ears, longer on top, flecked with a grey just around his temples. A sharp jaw with more than a five o'clock gracing it.

Raising a fist, I knock gently on the door. His eyes finally snap upward.

Edward moves back in his seat as I offer a tentative smile. His focus immediately shifting from me to the empty corridor behind.

"Come in, Bella," he says quietly. "Close the door behind you."

I step into the office and do as he asks, the fluttering feeling in my stomach exploding as I shut us off from the world. Just me and him. Knowing this is the first time we've been truly alone since we were in that hotel room, doing all manner of intimate things. I stand straighter, trying to look unfazed. But how can I be when everything between us feels laced with something deeper?

Edward stands, coming around his desk, toward me with purpose. He only falters when I offer him the file in my hand first. The real reason why I'm there. Not for him, but for work.

It obviously throws him.

"Kate said it was important," I tell him.

Taking the manila folder from me, he swiftly flicks through it before banishing it to the desk behind him, as if to say he doesn't think it's important. Not as important as me, at least. He seems to think better of getting closer to me, instead choosing to leaning against his desk. With nimble fingers he unbuttons the top collar of his shirt, unwinding the tie from around his neck.

"You changed your mind." A statement of fact. "I guess I should ask why?"

My shoulders rise, helplessly, caught in his steadfast gaze. I don't really want to tell him the truth, so I become uncharacteristically mute.

"Please," he presses. "You seemed… very adamant that you didn't want to entertain either proposition."

Needing a distraction, I walk to the tall window, honing in on the leafy street below. A vintage blue car sits prettily inbetween newer, sleeker models, dusted in the last blossoms of spring, the petals cradled in the windscreen wipers. It reminds me of the flowers Edward sent.

"The flowers were beautiful."

"You changed your mind because of the flowers," he says, somewhere behind me, a note of amusement in his voice.

"No, I changed my mind because you were right."

"About?"

I turn and face him with my smile, nothing but regretful.

"Me being naïve. I…" My voice catches on invisible hooks. "I made a mistake and I paid for it."

His expression turns serious. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I tell him truthfully. "But, it did make me think. It made me think a lot about where I want to go. What I want to do. Who I wanted to do those things with." I pause. "So I decided I wanted to take a chance on whatever it was you were offering."

Because it has to be better, I add silently.

"And while I'm very glad you did," he replies slowly. "What you've just said… that concerns me. Something happened…"

"Yes," I utter, monosyllabic, dragging the word through my mouth.

"With a client?"

"Yes."

There's a fleeting look of anger that crosses his face, but there's no 'I told you so'... there's no triumph in his eyes for being right. Instead his jaw tightens, his hands flexing into fists.

"What happened?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does to me. If someone hurt you—if some one assaulted you—"

"Can we not?" I plead quietly. "All you need to know is that I'm fine. And I'm here."

Edward's nostrils flare, and there's a slight shake of his head as he exhales heavily, reaching for composure.

"Fine. Fine. You're here." He pauses, his head dipping. This time he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, twisting the fabric up to his elbows. "Are you liking it so far?" he says, finally looking at me again.

"Am I liking feeling guilty when I have to read through article after article on the state of your marriage? No. Am I itching to rotate onto legislation research? Absolutely. Apparently it's just a month-long waiting game."

Edward grimaces. "Is that what Jenks has you doing? Reading my press?"

"For the most part." I take a breath, preparing to lighten the mood. "I don't know why I was so surprised that so many news items could appear in twenty-four hours about one person, but I was."

Edward bites. "You should see Twitter. There are some feral people on there."

"Oh I read some of those Tweets too…" I nod. "Do the death threats ever worry you?"

"Sometimes," he admits. "But not as much as the lonely housewives."

"Such hardship being the object of middle-aged desire," I tell him, pouting.

"You would know," he murmurs, a devious smirk appearing. "Did you know Kate's made a bet with me that Riley will ask you out before this first month is up, and you'll say yes."

My mouth falls open in surprise. "Why would she do that?"

"Because it's obvious to anyone with eyes how he fawns after you. It's entertaining to watch. And surely you're not that oblivious."

My eyes narrow. "I've had a lot going on, so I can't say I've been paying rapt attention… Did you make a bet too?"

Edward nods. "I did. I agreed but I said you'd turn him down."

"And what brings you to that conclusion?"

"I have it on pretty good authority that you charge for your time."

"True."

"You also said to me you didn't have time for a relationship."

"Also true."

"Then I'm right?"

"Maybe."

"You'd date him?" He scoffs, an eyebrow rising.

"I don't know. I probably would if I lived a normal life, right? He's nice. But I haven't thought about it," I lie again. "Did you give Kate a reason?"

"I said you're too focused and going through too much to give anyone the time of day, least of all a man-child that wouldn't know what to do with you."

I huff a laugh. "Your ego is showing. Please tell me you didn't say that?"

"Not the last part. Not out loud anyway. But I'm right. He wouldn't, would he?"

"All these questions…" I trail off, not wanting to contemplate the thought of having sex with Riley any further.

"Ask me anything," Edward offers in return. "I'll be honest."

My teeth sink into my lip, Edward's eyes following.

"Is your other proposal still on the table?" I ask, eventually. "I was surprised you offered this, and not… not that."

His eyes darken imperceptibly, his mouth curving into a smile. "It's definitely still on the table, Bella. If you want that. I'd love for you to have changed your mind."

My heart hammers against my chest as our eyes lock, as he waits so patiently for the word I know he wants to hear.

"I might," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What's stopping you now?"

"I didn't know whether it was still an option. But now, I suppose being here. Working so closely with people who respect and admire you. It feels insanely risky. Even more so than before."

"Risks I'm prepared for," he says.

"Risks I'm not prepared for," I counter. "I don't want to be the next Monica Lewinsky, or whoever. I mean, why haven't you made me sign an NDA? Does it not worry you that I could run to a newspaper tomorrow?"

"Because," he says confidentially. "I would ruin you if this got out. And there are much more fun ways I want to ruin you. I think the threat of destroying everything you've worked so hard for is enough—but I trust your track record and that you respect me enough not to do that. Have you told anyone?"

"No."

He smiles knowingly.

"Good girl," he murmurs, the praise landing in a way that makes my spine tingle. "Come here."

He stretches out his hand, reaching for me, and I allow it. I allow him to take my hand in his—to be pulled closer into his orbit, so that I'm between his legs and I can feel the heat of his body radiating.

"Change your mind on this," he says beseechingly, linking his fingers with mine. "And I promise I'll make it worth your while."

For a beat, I'm too caught up—too slow–to protest as he gently guides my body to bring my back flush against his solid chest.

"It makes me so fucking angry," he says as his nose grazes my ear, and I'm drowning in his presence. "That someone could hurt you. You're a fucking gift. You deserve to be worshipped. It's what I want to do. On my fucking knees."

He places a ghost of a kiss on the curve of my neck. A promise. Of being treated like a queen. Of giving me pleasure, instead of just taking his own. And if melting my resolve was a game, Edward would be winning.

All feelings of guilt recede as he moves his hands to my hips then smooths them down my legs to the hem of my navy skirt. I let go of a breath of anticipation, molding into him as his mouth runs up the length of my neck, the faintest brush of his lips reigniting the same fire that has been burning between us ever since we first met. "Would you let me make you come right now?"

"Anyone could walk in," I tell him feebly as he painstakingly guides the hem of my skirt upwards until the fabric is bunched around my hips, and the red thong I'm wearing is exposed. He hums appreciatively, and I do nothing to stop him as his fingers caress my bare thighs, inching higher and more purposeful with each passing sweep.

Teeth graze against my neck, scraping where my pulse thunders, as his fingers come achingly close to where I want them.

"They'd knock first," he reassures me, his voice a low rumble. "Would you let me?" he asks again, a chaste kiss just below my ear, the length of him pressing into my back, hard and thick and long against me. "I want to see you lose control."

Teasingly, he presses his fingers against my clit through the flimsy material, and slowly applies pressure in lazy, measured circles. My head falls further back against his shoulder, a soft moan escaping my lips as my legs part wider to allow him better access.

"Say yes, Bella," he coaxes, lifting fabric away, finding me silky smooth and so slick beneath his touch.

"Yes," I breathe as my hand grips a muscular thigh through his slacks.

"To all of it?"