The mayor, p.10
THE MAYOR, page 10
“Well, if you want my opinion,” she says pointedly, “I really don’t think you should be getting distracted by younger women right now.”
Younger women? Did Holly tell her already? No, that can’t be possible. Did she figure out our secret somehow? Diana can be incredibly observant sometimes. Has she been one step ahead of us this entire time?
“Uh, younger women?” I ask, trying desperately to remain as calm and collected as possible. “What could you— what do you mean by that, exactly? Who are you referring to?”
“Look, Samson. You have so much potential politically, and you’re just barely getting started. Why would you ever want to jeopardize that right now? Are you aware of the kind of rumor mill that surrounds young, handsome politicians like you? When you enter politics, your life gets put under a microscope. It isn’t fair, but it comes with the job. If anything, you need to set your sights on a more career-minded woman who can be your equal both intellectually and professionally. Ideally, you ought to look towards someone in politics like you, or maybe someone from a more corporate sort of background,” she continues, letting out a knowing sigh. “But you’re not interested in that, are you?”
“Well, sure, Diana, I hear you, but I’m just talking in hypotheticals here. I’m not even―”
“I know your mind is made up and you’re set on someone else already, but I really have to stress to you what a risky choice you’re making.” Her dark eyes narrow slightly. A wave of anxiety washes over me as I cringe inwardly. She knows. How in the world does she know? Why did she wait until now to bring up the subject if she already knew about us? Is she waiting for me to admit to sneaking around with her daughter?
“Okay, wait, who are you talking about, exactly?” I ask her.
“I think you know, Samson, you can be honest with me.”
“I honestly don’t understand what you’re getting at here,” I lie.
“You really think I don’t know about Sophia? She’s too young for you, Samson. Yes, her parents are filthy rich, and yes, she’s absolutely beautiful, but you have to stay focused on your career right now,” she lectures, disappointment rising in her voice.
“Sophia?” I blurt, genuine confusion and relief washing over my face at the same time “Wait, you think this is about... her? Sophia?” I repeat, a surprised laugh falling from my lips. “Look, the date I have with her is for the fundraiser only; you should know because you were there when she purchased the date,” I explain, my body relaxing. It turns out she didn’t know about us after all. “I’m not even interested in her like that, Diana.”
“Well, I was concerned. Sophia seemed really interested in you, you know,” Diana replies, “I would be cautious about how you conduct yourself during the date.”
“I will, of course,” I say, wishing to end the conversation.
“If you weren’t talking about becoming serious with Sophia, why did you ask me about reentering the dating world?” she asks, still looking rather confused by our conversation.
“I was just curious. As an ex-wife of a mayor, I thought you would have an interesting perspective. Dating is an idea that I’ve been bouncing around in my head for a while. I mean, plenty of great politicians have a partner alongside of them,” I explain to her.
“No, I agree. It just needs to be the right woman,” Diana says, “But just keep in mind that these younger women like Sophia aren’t going to help you right now. It’s an unnecessary distraction, and you have to keep in mind the long-term ramifications of the decisions you make now.”
“Of course,” I say, “Sophia is wonderful, and her family is incredibly successful and that alone could be a benefit to my career,” I start, still ridiculously relieved that Diana hasn’t figured out Holly and me yet. “She’s really beautiful, too,” I conceded. “But as far as whether or not I’m actually interested in her in a serious context? Not at all.”
“I hope so, Samson. This is a pivotal time in your career. You’ve made so much progress to get to this point, and I can’t bear to see you throw it away on a girl like Sophia,” Diana replies. “Yes, her family is powerful and well-known, but you’re going to gain a reputation as some older man chasing after young women rather than focusing on your job if you chase after her like that.”
“Oh, no, I totally understand. As I said, I’m not thinking about anyone in particular right now, I swear,” I say, lifting my hands up in a sign of peace. “It’s just... I haven’t been on any actual dates in ages.”
“I know, Samson. I know this career can be cutthroat, and it’s hard to find time for yourself and what you truly want. But you have to remember this all just comes with the job,” Diana says, concern painting her features. Her words cut, but I know deep down it’s because she cares about her job and the people she works with. She sees a lot of potential in me, and that isn’t something she’s ready to see me throw away.
“Yeah, I know,” I sigh, thinking about Holly and the time we’ve spent together the past two weeks.
Diana looks down and sighs, an uncomfortable silence building between us. “Well, anyway, when is your date with Sophia?”
“The date is tomorrow, actually,” I say, realizing I have lost track of time. Oh, wow, it actually is tomorrow, I think to myself. I had been so focused on Holly for so long that the fundraiser was the last thing on my mind. “Which means I need to start getting ready. I need to be as eligible of a bachelor as possible for her, after all,” I say, chuckling slightly, in an attempt to lighten the mood in the room between us. Diana smiles softly.
“I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that, Samson,” she smiles. “Good luck.” I nod as she glances at the time on her phone. “Oh, anyway, I’ve got to go,” she says, turning back towards the door. “I really hope it goes well and remember...this is for the fundraiser only.” She says with a meaningful glance.
“Of course, of course,” I say, smiling at her as they head out the door.
It’s time to get ready for my $5,000 date.
Chapter Fifteen
Samson
“Turn left at the next intersection,” my GPS chirps at me as I’m driving to Sophia’s parents’ house to pick her up for our fundraiser date. I turn and pull into a luxurious subdivision full of uniformly laid-out brick houses. Most of them look similar but not quite exactly the same. Actually, no, these are homes, estates, even, not simply houses. My jaw falls slightly agape in wonder as I drive through the neighborhood, taken aback by how upscale and neat and beautifully manicured all of the nearly identical lawns are. This neighborhood is absolutely surreal in its extravagance, and I can’t help but gawk at the magnificence of it all.
“Turn right in 300 feet,” the robotic voice of the GPS directs me. I follow its instruction and turn on yet another street, gazing at the perfectly symmetrical rows of houses lining each side. I deal with plenty of wealthy folks in my career, but this neighborhood is absurd in its luxuriousness.
“Wow, Sophia,” I mumble to myself in awe. Practically every single driveway and every garage has at least two high-end luxury cars sitting in front of them. The homes are absolutely beautiful yet almost sort of eerie in their uniformity and neatness. Some lawns have children playing outside or landscapers toiling away to keep the yards perfectly neat and tidy. One man exits his house in an immaculate suit with a briefcase in hand, yammering away into an earpiece on his right ear as he heads towards his car. Another house has a group of insanely wealthy-looking women sitting in a semicircle of lawn chairs seemingly gossiping and cackling away, looking incredibly pleased with themselves. Yet another house appears to be hosting a child’s birthday party. Twenty or so children around the age of ten or so run around the yard wildly, either playing or cheering on and harassing a sad-looking birthday clown or bouncing around in an enormous inflatable bounce house erected in the middle of the lawn. Some kid’s parents really shelled out a lot for this one, I think to myself, glancing around at some of the other homes as I search around for Sophia’s residence.
“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS concludes as I realize I’m sitting directly in front of her home. It’s possibly the largest and most opulent home I’ve seen so far in the entire subdivision. I shake my head slightly, absolutely shocked by the obscene display of wealth. A beautiful, glossy Mercedes sits in the center of the driveway as if on display for the rest of the neighborhood to see and envy. The house appears to be three stories, but it could be four. It’s so massive and imposing from the outside that it’s hard to tell just how sprawling it could be on the inside.
I suddenly wonder if I’m slightly underdressed for the occasion, looking myself over quickly in the car mirror and smoothing my fingers through my slightly tousled brown hair. I look down at my lap, making sure my black slacks and dress shirt and tie have no hair or fuzz on them or any other imperfections that might make me look less put together or professional. When I left the house, I thought what I was wearing was perfectly appropriate, but now upon seeing the kind of environment Sophia comes from I feel rather pedestrian and even sloppy.
Before I can ponder this dilemma any further, I hear a loud squeal of delight coming from the front door. My head snaps up in the direction of the sound, and I see Sophia bounding towards my car excitedly.
“Hi, Samson!” she yells as I climb out of my car and stand up, attempting to look as poised and professional and worth every last penny of the $5,000 her father paid for our outing together. Somehow I feel as though I’m clearly falling short, but Sophia seems happy enough with the situation. “I assume you’ve prepared a lovely date for us today?”
Sophia is practically the picture of a stereotypically popular girl, freshly graduated but still riding out the last waves of popularity she enjoyed while in high school.
To be fair, Sophia genuinely is alarmingly beautiful and captivating. Her long, sleek, dark hair cascades down her back, framing her face and highlighting her golden, tanned skin in a way that makes her look very glamorous and gorgeous. She certainly isn’t my type by any means, but I completely understand why she is such a prominent and popular presence. People say Her father throws money at her any time she demands it, but from what I’ve heard in the community, she has never been close emotionally to her family. Her relationship with her parents looks perfectly normal on the outside, but upon closer inspection, it is fairly obvious how her mother and father use money and status to keep her satisfied in the place of actual, genuine affection and time spent together. My secretary tells me that Sophia can be pretty obnoxious, but with her parents, upbringing, and status it makes a lot of sense.
“I hope you’re up for a picnic today,” I say to her and internally groan. This is going to be a long day. I wonder how much of Sophia’s outgoing and over-the-top exterior is for appearances and how much of it is genuinely her own personality. She is fully aware of the sort of image she has to project for the sake of her family’s reputation, and I imagine that has to be tiring for her.
“Oh, that sounds just lovely! You look so handsome today,” she coos at me, running her fingers through my hair and cupping my cheek with her hand. I clear my throat sort of nervously and pull away.
“Thank you, Sophia, that’s very sweet of you. You look beautiful today yourself,” I respond, feigning interest in her as well as I can. I’m not very good at being fake for the sake of appearances, but I’m realizing that this date is probably going to require it.
“I know, right?” She giggles. “What do you think of the dress?” she asks, spinning around to show off a red sundress that stops just high enough to leave a man wanting more. “Dad let me take his card to go pick out an outfit just for today. When I saw this one, I just had to have it!”
“Wow, yeah, it’s really stunning, Sophia,” I respond, trying so hard to not think about Holly and how great she would look in it. I wish this date was with her instead. She’s flirting with me a lot, and it feels really strange to reciprocate her affection, even if I don’t mean it deep down. It all feels a bit wrong. “So, are you ready to head out?” I ask, and I step aside and open the passenger side door for her, ushering her in.
“Such a gentleman!” Sophia remarks loudly as if wanting everyone in a five-mile radius to hear her. “How lucky am I?” she purrs, and I feel embarrassed for her, throwing herself at me, but I understand why she feels the need to live up to her parents’ and the community’s expectations. It has to be sort of stressful being such a familiar face all around town.
Sophia sits down and buckles her seatbelt, pulling down the mirror in front of her to apply another coat of red lipstick. She puckers her lips and makes a face in the mirror, winking at her own reflection as she does so. “Let’s roll, then!”
The entire drive to the park is sort of awkward and full of strange, uncomfortable posturing from both of us. I’m not sure that Sophia realizes how easy it is to see through her façade, but I’m definitely not going to press her about it now. It’s clear that we aren’t remotely compatible, but I try my best to make the day as exciting and fun as possible for her, or at the very least, worth the $5,000 her father’s credit card paid for this outing. I wonder for a moment if he’s even aware of how much he spent on this date. Her father does his best, but he is away from home for work much of the time, which I know has to be hard for Sophia. I don’t think her father knows any way to show actual affection to her in any way but financially.
Upon reaching the park, I pull into the parking lot and look for a nice spot to set up our picnic. My eyes fall upon a large white gazebo up on a hill in the distance. Perfect. I hop out of the car and rush to the passenger side, opening the door for her as she climbs out. She smiles again and giggles sweetly. “You are just so sweet, Samson,” she proclaims, always speaking just a little too loudly, as if wanting the entire world to notice her and how glamorous her life is.
I walk around to the trunk of my car and pull out a picnic basket with our lunch and a bottle of sparkling water. “I’ve prepared a little lunch date for us. I hope you’re up for salad, sandwiches, and some sparkling water,” I say to her, starting up the hill with her at my side.
She definitely looks overdressed for the occasion, but I think for Sophia she sees that as a positive. The more she stands out, the better, in her mind. Still, she looks lovely, and I’m going to make the best of the date as I can for her. She deserves to feel cared for and appreciated in a way that doesn’t involve handing her a credit card or a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
I think Sophia realizes that this isn’t a real date but rather a transaction, but I’ll still attempt to seem as interested and polite as I can manage. We sit down at a lone picnic table under the white gazebo as I begin setting the table with our lunch and sparkling water. I place one glass in front of her and one in front of myself and pop open the bottle. It’s nice, but not too extravagant or distracting enough to turn us into a spectacle.
“Ooh, Pellegrino? You know what I like already!” she says as I pour us each a glass. I remove the rest of the food I’ve packed for the occasion and arrange it all neatly on the table. She grabs the tongs from the large salad bowl and puts some on her plate, reaching for a nearby bottle of vinaigrette dressing I packed. She pours the dressing liberally on her plate and takes small, dainty bites, almost as if she doesn’t want me to see her eating. I prepare my own plate and take a few bites as an uncomfortable silence falls over both of us. This entire situation is really, really awkward and strange, and I can tell she’s doing her best to defuse the tension.
I clear my throat and speak up, trying to initiate some friendly conversation. “It’s a really nice day out, isn’t it? Not a cloud in the sky.”
“Oh, yes! This gazebo was a fine choice, too,” she replies, taking a sip from her glass, her lipstick staining the rim. “I just had to have my father bid on this outing with you,” she continues. “I’ve had my eye on you for some time, and hey, the fundraiser is for a good cause, you know?” She winks at me, holding eye contact just long enough to make me feel even more uncomfortable.
“I’m flattered, Sophia,” I reply, smiling warmly at her. When she looks down at her plate again my eyes begin to wander, partially out of anxiety and partially out of boredom. The chemistry between us is practically nonexistent. “Um, I think you’re just lovely,” I continue.
The park is mostly empty today, save for some older women doing yoga and the occasional person walking their dog. As my eyes scan the park, I see something that makes my heart nearly leap from my chest: Holly and Sam are walking on the other side of the tennis courts. My eyes widen, and Sophia must notice because her head tilts in confusion.
“Are you feeling all right, Samson?” she asks, a hint of suspicion in her voice. She turns around and fixes her gaze on what I’m staring at. When she realizes I’m gawking at another woman, she huffs, clearly offended.
“Oh, yes, just fine,” I say, breathless. “Um, what were you saying?” I’m floundering at this point, trying to focus on the date with Sophia yet absolutely transfixed by Holly in her running clothes. I’ve never seen her wear leggings before, she has incredible legs.
Sophia frowns and turns around again towards Holly and Sam, her eyes narrowing fiercely when she realizes just who I have been staring at. “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” she asks, anger rising in her voice.
Oh, no. Can I still salvage this?
“No, of course not, Sophia,” I say, my voice smooth, placating.
“Because I paid good money for this date, you know. I mean, my dad did, but still!” She crosses her arms.
