HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 7: Nice To Cross Paths Again

Samuel's face grows progressively redder, so red in fact, that he resembles a cherry tomato.

Sandro, meanwhile, boyishly grind. "Surely you know which of these women is your wife?"

Samuel glances from Kaylee to me and back again. It's kind of fun, watching him squirm. People tend to get under his skin rather easily, but when he starts yelling, they back off. Sandro, as a Representative, holds much more power here than Samuel, so Samuel would never risk yelling.

He only punches down.

Yet as fun as this is, I also watch a sinking feeling of trepidation. Samuel will be there when I go home tonight. He might not yell at Sandro, but he will have no such reservations with me. All of my enjoyment will be sucked back tenfold later.

Finally, Samuel nods to me. "Rafha is indeed my wife, however we both agreed...Since she is working today, preparing the event as you said...That I would bring her sister Kaylee as my impromptu date. To help her make connections, you understand."

Samuel lies are usually more convincing. Sandro really did irk him, to have him fumbling this hard.

How very delightful.

Sandro grin widens, adding teeth. He's still boyish, but with a touch of mischievousness now. He looks for all the world like the cat who caught the canary, and is enjoying playing with his food.

Samuel shifts uncomfortably under Sandro's silent stare. He shuffles over to me and not so gently grabs my arm. Then, Samuel drags me closer to Sandro.

"Representative Marcos, may I present my wife, Rafha," Samuel says.

I hold out my hand. It's a presumptive move. Sandro has already denied Samuel's handshake.

I'd rather extend my hand and have it rejected than be seen as rude for not offering at all.

"Hello, Esther," Miles greets me, taking my hand in his. His skin is just as smooth and warm as it was that night we spent together. "It's nice to meet you." He lifts my hand and gently places a soft kiss on the back of it.

He pauses, allowing his lips to linger on my skin. Just like that night, his lips leave a trail of soft kisses along my spine.

I swallow hard, the memory of that night flooding back—so much passion, kissing, moving together, sweating. He had held my hand as he entered me.

I cried out his name as I climaxed.

He slowly straightens but doesn't let go of my hand right away.

"N-nice to meet you," I stammer, wondering if he can tell I'm remembering that night from the flush on my face. He probably can, as his deep ocean-blue eyes glance down at the curve of my breasts. He had taken great pleasure in them that night. Thoroughly.

"Perfect breasts," he had whispered against my skin in the dark. "Perfect hips. Perfect ass." He had taken his time savoring each, first with his hands, then with his mouth. "Perfect woman," he had said, marking my neck with a love bite.

Now, I touch the spot where it was. It's gone now, faded over time.

Miles notices the movement, understanding what I'm thinking.

His smile softens, and he releases my hand.

"Do you need a glass of water, Rafha?" Sandro asks, his voice calm and composed. If he's thinking about the past, it doesn't show at all. "You look a bit flushed."

"I'm fine," I reply, though my cheeks are burning.

"Very well," Sandro says, giving a nod to everyone before turning to leave.

Behind his back, Samuel glares at me. "If you knew him, you should have damned well said something before this."

"I didn't," I say. "I don't."

The Sandro I knew is a DJ. This Congressman Sandro? I've never met him before.

As the day progresses, several of the invited businessmen fawn over the two congressmen. As Senator Marcos is on his way out with retirement, the petitions to him are nothing more than courtesy. Sandro is the one claiming the full attention of the guest list.

I do my best to stay away from him, and Samuel and Kaylee too. With so many guests and so many other pieces that need direction during the event, I am able to steer clear for a good long while.

Every so often, I glance back at Sandro and find another CEO at his ear, presenting this or that, or hoping for government funding.

None of my other family seem to be here, not even my father. Perhaps he trusted Kaylee in his stead. Does he know about the affair?

No, I couldn't believe that. Despite everything, Father loves me. Over the years, he's little more than tolerated my husband. If ever there's a split, and Father needs to choose sides, I am confident he would pick me.

At least, I hope.

Since Samuel's promotion, Father has been more receptive to Samuel and his ideas.

Maybe in pushing my husband into his job, I've pushed away my own father.

Sighing, I return my focus to my work. I can't be thinking about this right now.

I busy myself for a time, but all too soon again, my gaze turns back to Miles.

This time, Samuel is at his ear.

God, is he saying something about what happened? Is he throwing me under the bus in some way?

I start walking without meaning to, approaching them both with hastened strides.

Kaylee isn't with them. I wonder where Samuel ditched her and why, but I can't worry about her right now.

As I come closer, I slow my steps again, hearing now what they are discussing.

"As you can see, I'm sure, this project will certainly be not just lucrative, but good for the economy and the community," Samuel says.

"All we need now is government support."

Oh. He's talking about work. Of course he is. This is why he came here.

What kind of paranoid am I, to assume they would be talking about me? I want to kick myself.

Suddenly, Sandro glances at me and my heart nearly leaps from my chest. I'm frozen on the spot. His eyes trail down my body and I feel the weight of them as surely as if he's caressing me with his hand.

I close my eyes, soaking in the feeling. God, if we were back in that hotel room and —

"No," Sandro says.

My eyes snap open.

Sandro is giving Samuel a cold look.

Samuel's mouth is open in shock. "No?"

"I will never fight for funding for any of your projects, Mr. Samuel, or any from your compa-ny."

"B-But... " Samuel fumbles. "Why ever not?"

I can' t fathom it either. Despite Samuel' s many shortcomings, his company is well-known for his honest, and competitive, reputation. It' s nation-wide. For Sandro to refuse to help them, meant he would not help potentially thousands of projects.

This would be a huge blow to the company.Samuel' s own reputation would be in tatters.

Sandro doesn' t strike me as someone ignorant. To be a Congressman at 30, he must be exceedingly smart and competitive in his own way.

Looking at Samuel, he lifts a brow. "Why?" he repeats.

Samuel nods, eager to know. Many people are. Nearby conversations have stopped to listen.

Sandro glances at me and smirks. "Because your wife offended me."