Politics and Sexual Attraction
“Damn, she’s hot,” he muttered. Maybe he should wake her up for another round before work. No. Too little sleep as it is, and there’s work to be done and money to be made. Plus he was already showered and dressed. He laid the note on the table by the bed and grabbed his briefcase. She’ll be pissed at first, but it’s nothing a phone call later and a few flowers won’t solve. He just knew it. He always knew it.
Thirty minutes later and only a block from the office, he also knew it was time for an espresso. At his favourite coffee shop he was pleased to see that the usual sizzling blonde was working the morning shift again. What was her name? He’d looked at the nametag enough times - ah, yes. Katie.
“Good morning Katie. I guess you’re busy, as always.” He flashed the smile. Did she flash back? Hard to say for sure. “It’s been good, but thanks for asking. The usual?” He definitely wanted the usual. What could be better? “Sure Katie, thanks. You know, nobody here makes it like you do.” This time she smiled for sure. “I’m glad you enjoy it. Nice of you to say. Here you go.” Now he just grinned. He couldn’t help himself. Back on the sidewalk, traffic was in full Monday morning force. After numerous quick glances (spring fashions are a wonderful thing) and several near spills, he was back inside again. It was his home away from home: the District Attorney’s office.
Even back on, he recognized the brunette walking into the elevator. Angela was many things. Brilliant lawyer, witty conversationalist, equal parts principled and ruthless. Most of all, though, she had perhaps the greatest body he’d ever wanted to undress. How he loved the power suits. Nothing like an independent girl. Time for an opener. “How was the weekend?” She glanced over. “Actually it was pretty rough.” He wanted to ask what kind of rough, but that would be a big no-no, now wouldn’t it.
Out of the elevator and down the hall he found his secretary, Maria, already dealing with (and bent over) a jammed photocopier. The top button of her blouse was undone. “Can I help?” he asked. He made a mental note to bring her back a latte after lunch. Unbuttoned blouses always did wonders for his generosity. “It’s fine, and besides you’d best get ready sir. Your first meeting is in 15 minutes.”
Meeting. Right. The Governor was facing sexual harassment charges. He was promised a prominent role on the prosecution team. A potentially career-launching role. It was a good thing he left on time after all. Even great sex wasn’t worth jeopardizing this one.