Endless: REWRITTEN

2. Pearl

Natalie

"Have you landed?" I snuggle my phone between my shoulder and ear as I get out of the car and start walking into the office.

"Yes, I'm just waiting for Steph to pick me up." Cheyenne's tired voice comes through. Tired with what, is very debatable. She always sounds tired or irritated in some way when speaking with me.

"Okay, sweetie, call me if you need anything."

"Sure."

We share goodbyes and disconnect. As soon as I'm off the phone and into the building, my work begins and I haven't even clocked in yet. People walking up to me, asking questions, asking me to read or sign something, telling me important updates about the race, and other nonessential information that doesn't benefit me in any way.

I all but hide in the main office just to get the crowd off of my back, shutting the door behind myself. I heavily sigh, resting my back against the cool wood of the door.

"Natalie!"

I open my eyes to see the candidate I'm working for, Brad McLaughlin. Your typical tall, dark, and handsome man who sees change for the country, but is embarrassingly low in the polls. He'll never make it to the primaries, but I'm just here to do my job. He has the personality of a freshly-painted wall, yet thinks that I won't mind that he has a wife and three daughters at home waiting for him each time he invites me out to drinks or dinner.

In short, he's disgusting. But I'm just doing my job. I've made it too far to let some man thinking with his family jewels ruin me.

In the last month or so, I've managed to get a break from him. He's been travelling the country with my assistant and his speechwriter, making his rounds in his weakest states. He didn't even inform me that he was going to be back today. Maybe that was completely intentional so that he could surprise me, but I'm more annoyed than anything. Not that I can show it, but I'm still annoyed.

"Brad..." I greet on the lowest level of pleasantly. "You didn't tell me you were going to be back today."

"I wanted to surprise you," he grins at me. Fucking knew it...

"Oh... how pleasant." I clear my throat. "How did things go?"

"Eh." He sits down at the large desk in the room. "Wyoming wasn't impressed, but I think I got through to the people in Nevada."

"Oh..." I smile politely. "We can send off some more ads in those states then. I'll make the call."

"Wait." Ugh... "I haven't seen you in a while. We should grab dinner tonight."

"I'm sure your family would appreciate having you tonight since you have been gone for a month." I stare him down, trying to telepathically express the message to him.

"I already told my wife I had to work late." He stands up and approaches me in the manner of a lion to his prey. "Come on, I'm buying."

"Brad, I really don't think—"

"It's just dinner. I'm not asking you to come home with me. Come on, you don't have to be professional all the time. We can just talk. Isn't part of your job being personable?"

"Yes, but..." I sigh, running a hand over my eyes. He won't give up, and we'll just end up going in circles if we keep doing this. "Fine."

"Great! The reservation is at seven, so—"

"You already made a reservation?" What is this man's problem, honestly?