Royal Digs by D. D. Scott Page A

saying. She had the room totally with
her. But I just wanted her to know again how proud of her I
was.
    “It only takes one unfiltered Tweet or
Twitpic or Instagram to go viral,” Bunny said, looking to her right
and signaling the woman next to her that she could take it from
here.
    “And I can guarantee the unfiltered part,”
Grams said, holding her head high and imitating her tiny, bony
fingers working their magic over an imaginary airborne
keyboard.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
     
     
     
     
    I sat in the small,
sparsely furnished room that served as the conference room for our
super PAC, Mission Green Freedom.
    Normally, I liked to keep up with all of the
groups my family and friends’ money supported. But with my
full-time, although, temporary job protecting The President and the
upcoming election, I didn’t know a lot about Mission Green Freedom,
outside of their basic brochures and everything I could Google
about it.
    “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr.
Bellesconi.”
    After turning toward the velvety smooth voice
behind me, I made a mental note to adjust my schedule. Evidently, I
should make it a priority to learn everything I could about our
super PAC.
    Standing before me, with her hand held out to
shake mine, was our stunning director, Giavani Rancic.
    She was a beautiful woman. Thin, almost too
thin for my personal taste, but striking nonetheless, and waiting
for me to acknowledge her, which didn’t happen very quickly. I was
tongue-tied.
    She had gorgeous olive skin and large brown
eyes that brought to mind a doe stepping from a forest, intent on
gauging her security before she stuck out her neck too far. With a
head of copper and blond hair I’d love to run my hands through
falling in loose waves to her tiny waistline, and a style that made
it seem she should be on the cover of fashion magazines instead of
running a super PAC, I was head over my Italian loafers.
    “No problem. No problem at all,” I said,
having to clear my voice between the first and second response
while also trying to remember what she’d even said to me, hoping
what I was saying back made some sort of sense to her, because it
sure as hell wasn’t registering with me.
    I was in the Secret Service for cripe’s sake
and second in line to a Mob Boss throne. Why the hell was this
enigmatic beauty flustering me to no end?
    “Beautiful name, by the way. What’s the story
behind it?” I asked.
    “My mother was very much into saving the
earth, so she named me for the Greek Goddess of The Earth, Gaia.
But she liked the sound of Gee-a better than Gay-a or Guy-a.”
    Well, Giavani’s mom was definitely right on
that account. There was no question her daughter was a goddess.
    “I can see the Greek Goddess resemblance,” I
said, knowing it was a corny line, but unable to help myself.
    “My friends call me, Gia,” she said, choosing
to ignore my stupid comment.
    I couldn’t blame her for that. She’d turned
me into a babbling idiot. For a big, tough guy, when it came to
women, I was totally clueless.
    “So, then, if we could get this meeting
started. I’m afraid I’m due at the convention center to rehearse my
speech right after lunch.”
    “Very well. I’m sure, as our super PAC
director, you’re well aware of the formidable opponent we’re facing
in Governor Crumley,” I began, not sure I could even do what I came
here to do, as she still had me fumbling for words.
    “I know voters have a huge choice this time
around. A choice that really is, without a better way to say it, a
choice between life and death.”
    Little did she know how right she was, I
thought, but I wasn’t going to burden her or risk her safety with
more information than was necessary.
    “How is it a life or death decision from
Mission Green Freedom’s perspective?” I asked, not sure what she
meant by that.
    “Because the air we breathe, the food we
consume, the containers we use, the vehicles we drive, they’re all
killing us. And Governor Crumley only