Crimson Eve by Brandilyn Collins Page A

tell her everything. And that was strange, holding something back from her. I had to work hard not to show it on my face. But . . .
    How many times have I seen Bryson Hanley’s picture in the paper and around town? Not to mention his name on the local news. Terrin’s own “Golden Boy.” Mr. Destined for Greatness. Not to mention a rich businessman. And really good-looking, for an old guy. (That’s me talking, not the papers.) He’ll put this Seattle suburb on the map, they say. “Charismatic,” that’s what they call him. And he’s always looked it too. Even on TV, you can tell how he charms people.
    Let me tell you something. “Charismatic” doesn’t begin to do the real man justice.
    After interviewing me for over an hour, Jilke told me to wait by his desk. He knocked on the door leading to Senator Hanley’s office, then went inside. I got all nervous, hoping, hoping I’d land the job. After a couple minutes Jilke stuck his head out the door and waved me into Senator Hanley’s office. I nearly fainted. I hadn’t expected to meet him so soon.
    I stood up, legs shaking, and smoothed my skirt. Suddenly wishing I’d had money for a new dress. And did my hair look okay? Next thing I knew, I was standing before Senator Hanley’s desk and Jilke was introducing us. Senator Hanley stretched out his arm, and I managed to stick out mine — and we shook hands.
    I swear there was heat in those fingers.
    Senator Hanley’s probably about six feet — six inches taller than I am. But he looked like a tower. And his shoulders aren’t real broad, either, but he still made me think of a linebacker in full gear. There’s just something about him. This power . It surges from him. And those eyes. They’re milk chocolate brown and so very deep. You could swim in those eyes. When he looked at me and smiled, I felt like I was the most important person in the world.
    Now I know what they’re talking about when they say Bryson Hanley is destined for greatness. The man could charm a snake. If a politician’s career is all about getting people to like you and vote for you — this guy’s got it made. One look at him, and forget voting — I’d go to the moon for him.
    This is what I couldn’t tell Mary Kay. I mean, the guy’s over forty. I have never looked at somebody that old and thought a thing about him. But Bryson Hanley just makes you feel special.
    “Carla Radling, is it?” Senator Hanley said as our fingers still touched.
    I managed a yes, then clamped my mouth shut. Last thing I needed was to fall into my smart-alecky routine to hide my nervousness.
    He took back his hand. “Welcome. Paul tells me you interviewed very well. I’ll be glad to have you around for the summer.”
    He has this crease on the right side of his face when he smiles. Sort of a half dimple. And his smile is almost playful — like he knows a secret about you but promises not to tell.
    I’ll be glad to have you. Not we’ll be glad.
    “Thank you.”
    We talked for a few minutes. He asked me about my parents (I tried to make Mom sound decent, but I don’t think I fooled him) and my school. If I knew what college I wanted to go to, what I wanted to study. I answered pretty well, if I do say so myself. In fact, I kinda gained my ground as we went along. Funny, but I think he sensed that. Don’t ask me how I know. It was just this feeling between us.
    Scott’s real happy for me. He and I have been going out for three months now, and it’s the first time he’s seen me with a job. He took me out for pizza tonight, then we hung around his house until eleven o’clock. His parents were out, and his sister was staying with a friend for the night. Perfect time for us to be alone.
    Now I need to go to bed so I’m fresh for the morning. Already got my clothes laid out. Can’t wait to start.
    Something tells me this job is going to change my life.

FOURTEEN
    Twelve-thirty. Less than fifteen hours.
    Tony rolled through Moscow, narrowed eyes