Free Infiltrating Your Heart by Kassy Markham Page A

Tart beforehand to calm my hunger. I’m the kind of girl that would make a
great candidate for one of those Snickers commercials.
    “That’s good,” the man replies. We
walk away from the restaurant.
    “Where are we going?”
    “There’s a commemoration party for
the mayor. I’m, well, not married, and I’m in politics. I’m counting on looking
favorable in front of the mayor, if I have such an attractive woman by my
side.”
    The man tells me this sounding like I
might frown at him or something. But I don’t mind this. Men could use me for
less agreeable stuff, which I would frown at.
    “You’re on,” I say. “I could get you
to be Governor if that’s what you’re after.” I definitely got the looks.
    That incites a smile from the man.
    “I like you,” he says, and we stop. I
look in front of me and see his car. I’m used to seeing expensive rides now, so
I don’t squeal like a girl. Not that I didn’t do that before. This one’s a new
Aston Martin. The man opens the door for me, and I get in. He goes over to the
driver’s side.
    It takes him five minutes to get us
to one of the best reception halls in the city. My client (Mr. Favorable, I’ve
fondly dubbed him) appears to have a reserved space, because he parks almost as
soon as we get there. I smile, thinking that’s one of the perks of having
money. Money may not buy happiness, but it sure makes life a hell of a lot
easier.
     

    Mercedes
    Moments later, Mr. Favorable and I walk
into the hall. I look around, eyebrows raised. These days, it’s not easy to
impress me. There are a lot of VIPs here. Men are wearing tailored suits and
women are showing off a variety of gorgeous dresses.
    As we walk forward, I surreptitiously
look down at myself. I’m glad I dress up well for my assignments. My client didn’t
warn me that I had to wear formal clothing. Tonight, I’m wearing a violet
tank-top dress. The skirt reaches to just below my knees and has a discreet
slit on the side. I’ve paired my clothing with black high-heels and a
gold-colored purse. I combed my hair into a neat chignon as well.
    “That’s the Mayor,” says Mr.
Favorable. I look towards the man he nods to. Of course I know who the Mayor
is. He’s tall, with short dark hair, hazel eyes, and white skin. His age is
somewhere close to sixty. The Mayor is wearing a white T-shirt and striped blue
tie under black three-piece suit. His black loafers are polished to a
mirror-like finish.
    “We’ll go talk to him in a moment.”
    I nod at Mr. Favorable. I’ve never
met the Mayor in person. He’s in conversation with a couple of old big shots.
Next to him is who I take to be his wife. She’s stunning, and appears to be a
few years younger than her husband. Her eyes are green, and her hair is golden
brown. I would bet she dyes it, or it would have a lot of gray now.
    Mr. Favorable and I talk to a few
people. They all regard me with approval. I just hope they don’t learn I’m an
escort. I’m not ashamed of what I do, I’d just rather not give anyone reasons
to look down at me.
    The Mayor is too busy, so I follow my
client to a table and we sit down. I feel a bit out of place. This is the first
time I’ve been to an event where the majority of the attendees are such
high-society people. Luckily, I can play the part well. All I hope is that I
don’t look too young.
    To my utter surprise, the Mayor
himself walks up to our table a few moments later. I tear my gaze from him long
enough to see Mr. Favorable struggling to mask his excitement. I stifle a
laugh.
    “Mr. Fullerton,” the Mayor says. My
client stands up and shakes his hand. I stand up as well. “It’s a pleasure to
meet you. The city attorney was just telling me about you. I thought I’d stop
for a word.”
    “Wow. Well, I’m honored to meet you,
Mr. Mayor.”
    The Mayor nods, and then he looks at
me.
    “Who is this lovely lady, Mr.
Fullerton?”
    I let out a breath I didn’t realize I
was holding. For a moment there,