Politics. Escorts. Blackmail. by Pynk Page A

to the door. “Look. That’s it. I only came here to ask you that. I’m not here to…have you. This will be my last time. Period.”
    “Okay. But you won’t tell me what happened?” She stood close to him.
    He turned toward her, then walked back to the window, reached in his pocket for his cell, and sent a text. “No. I can’t. It’s best that you don’t know. Besides, I can handle it.”
    “I’m sure you can.”
    He kept his phone in his hand. “One thing I do want to know, though. Do you all use my name, or is there some sort of code for me?”
    She looked sincere and concerned. “You know I can’t tell you that. They tell us very little, anyway.”
    “Okay. Let’s leave it where it is. From this moment on, I need to work out whatever it is that I need and look to my wife to fulfill it.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “This is way too much of a risk. Too much at stake. Every time I look up, someone in Washington or the political arena here in New York has us on the news for doing something stupid, some indiscretion.”
    She turned to face him. “True, but don’t get nervous about it. That’s when things happen. Just relax and follow your gut. If you think you need to stop, then stop.”
    “Makes me wonder how you stay so cool.”
    Leilani stepped closer to him again. “I don’t. Each and every day I wake up, I just, like, realize it could be my last day of freedom. I have a hard time trusting new clients, you know, wondering if I’m being set up or if I’ll get beat up or robbed. And I always hope my regulars won’t get sloppy. But that’s totally the risk. That’s why it’s so lucrative. Like you said, that’s why you pay so much, and you’re totally right. You’re one of the good clients. You respect boundaries and don’t drink or smoke or get rough.” She touched his shoulder. “I want you to rest assured and know that what we do goes absolutely no further than this hotel room. Yes, there’s a company I work for and all, but I was thinking about breaking away and doing this on my own, you know, like we discussed. I mean, why give half to someone else, when I’m the one doing all the work, you know what I mean?”
    His expression showed his worry, but he still said, “I do. You need to do what you think is best.”
    “Actually, like tonight I was going to ask you if you’d think about, you know, like maybe trying me on the side. But, I see that you’re done.”
    His voice gentled. “No. Can’t do that.”
    “I totally understand, especially not after you have this feeling like someone is talking. I get it.”
    He stepped away and she had no choice but to remove her hand. He said, “Anyway, you take care.”
    A faint smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “You too. Do what you have to do.”
    “I will.” He turned back to her, looking dissatisfied. “Honestly, I still need to know how this got out.”
    She gazed at him as he stood before the door. “I don’t know what’s going on. All I know is, since you’ve vowed to stop, then we’ll stop. Do you want me to tell Money you won’t be needing our services anymore?”
    “No. She’ll find out. Let this be the last we speak of it, and each other.” He turned, opened the door, and stepped out.
    “Bye.” She leaned out of the door and wanted to wish him luck with his bid for the White House, but she didn’t. She simply closed the door.
    Leilani stayed in the room and logged on to her computer. She returned some e-mails, paid a bill or two, and spent the remaining time the senator had paid for just piddling around. Then she sent her usual text to the booker. Done.

A female candidate has entered the race: three-term Illinois congresswoman Marla Goins spoke at a rally today announcing her declaration. Goins was propelled into the race with support from the Tea Party movement. Civil unions were legalized in her state earlier in the year. She’s angered some voters for pushing to give same-sex