I fell in love with the presidents son. [COMPLETED]

Chapter Two

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My mornings were always uneventful. I would wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and leave for work. And that's exactly what I did the day after the rally. As soon as I had walked into my real estate office my assistant said that a man called for me and was looking for some prime property. And he asked for me specifically. Not many people ever did that.

"Oh, okay." I nodded to Tina and continued to my office. I sat down and filed some paper work and looked at the report for an anonymous client. Tina had given me a list of pre selected properties by the client. I didn't know the point of having an agent at that point, but they did. At about 10 o'clock I gathered my sheets and purse so I could meet the client.

I arrived at a large 7,000 sq. ft. house. It was beautiful and I couldn't imagine why anyone would want a house that big. I parked behind a Aston Martin in the wrap around driveway. So, obviously who ever this was, was rich no doubt. I walked in and saw the client standing in front of a large window with their back to me.
"Hi. I'm Belle Carter. I'm your agent for the day." I smiled waiting for the mystery man to turn around.
"I know who you are, Miss. Belle." He turned, it was Bradley Mayor. I rolled my eyes and put my hand in my hip sassily.
"Can I help you jackass?" I smoldered. He strolled over to me and smirked.
"Are you insinuating that I have a nice ass?" He smiled widely. I gasped.
"What! Of course not. I said 'jack' in front. Good grief! How do you even. Oh my." I turned to leave baffled. I felt a strong hand in my arm.
"Wait. Miss. Belle. I do believe it's your job to show me around this place." He stopped me: I sighed trying to convince myself that this was just a job and nothing more. I nodded and pulled out my folder.
"So. I looked up the listing but it isn't actually for sale........" I explained. I looked around the room. Finding a large chandelier, and from all my years of experience I knew that it cost nearly $30,000 alone. I scoffed at the expense rich people would go to, to achieve a status.
" oh I know that. I already own it." He plopped down on the white couch. I was beyond confused. If he had already owned the place then why was I supposed to show it to him? "I had just realized yesterday, I hadn't gotten my drink with you. So, I had some research done on you. And I figured this was the best to get you to my place here." Bradley reclined back in the chair.
"Mr. Mayor, if I'm not selling you a property then I should be leaving. So goodbye, or I should say good riddance." I turned to leave and head for the door.
"If you stay I'll make sure you get your cut for this deal. As you would for selling it." I gasped. At my firm when you sold a house you received a portion of the price of the house. This house was easily $33,000,000. I could use the money big time.
"One drink." I agreed. He raised up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.
"There's a good girl." He smiled. "What would you like?" He urged. I leaned on the counter.
"Grey goose if I plan on staying with you any longer." I created a snide remark. He grabbed two glasses that were round and shallow. He poured me the clear substance and some dark rich brandy for himself.
"A girl who enjoys the hard stuff. I like it." He sipped his drink. I grabbed mine and only sipped a small sliver. We made our way back into the living room and I sat on the adjacent chair to where he sat.
"I'm not quite sure why a girl like you would need the money." He added. I gave him a glare. Really? And he knew what about me exactly????
"You don't know me." I rolled my eyes trying to remain calm.
"Oh I do know you." He pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket. And read off,
"Name, Bella Anne Carter. Mother, deceased, Laura Moore Carter. Father, ex marine Corp instructor, ex policeman at Miami police department, Anderson Miles Carter. Bella is a graduate of Brown university. See I do know, Belle." He commented and my blood boiled. He seemed proud of what he knew.
"No, Mr. Mayor, you do NOT know me. Does that sheet of paper tell you that my mother died of cancer? Or that me and my father nearly were homeless for 5 years trying to pay off debt? Does it tell you that after 15 years since she died that I have $50,000 to pay of loans for her? Does it include that my father is currently in a nursing home because he was shot in the head and can't take care of himself? Does it specify that people that your father supports made sure my dad couldn't carry a gun to work that day. So, he got shot at since he couldn't defend himself? Does it fucking te-tell you that my only family left is my daddy, and he can't even talk to me anymore? Does it say how I had to manage to keep a perfect 4.0 GPA and work a job to help pay all of the bills and debt? Does it say how hard I had to work to get into Brown? Does it say how much I love my family only to have them all ripped away. Does it tell you how many times I've sat and cried wanting a better life like yours. Does it SHOW you the tears I've wept? No, Mr. Mayor, it does not. So before you say you fucking know me, you better actually know me. People like you and your father are the reason I have NOTHING. Good riddance Bradley Mayor." I let a tear escape my eye and sat the drink on the table. I ran out of the house as fast as I could. I didn't even finish my drink, I kind of needed it now.