Free Scarlett and the Feds by S.L. Baker

us both to turn and put our hands against the van as he patted us down.
    “Turn around, hands above your head,” he ordered. He patted Ed down first and then me. He stopped below my bra and took two fingers and stopped on the wire. My heart leapt into my throat and my palms starting sweating.
    “What is that?” he asked.
    “The wire for my mic, so I can I communicate with my cameraman,” I said trying to keep my voice calm.
    “Unbutton your dress, let me see,” he ordered.
    “No way. Not in front of three men. You’ll have to take my word for it,” I snapped staring right at him.
    Scarlett was standing in between me and the goon. Her brass knuckles firmly in place.
    The two goons exchanged glances.
    Ed shot a confused glance in my direction, but kept his cool except for the bead of sweat forming on his forehead.
    “Then get back in your van and leave. I have my protocol. By you refusing it makes us both suspicious.”
    I could just envision Agents Parker and Davis pacing in the van screaming, Just unbutton the fucking dress.
    “Fine,” I snapped, unbuttoning my dress to my belly button. “Satisfied!”
    “Very.” He smirked looking at me up and down.
    I turned and buttoned up my dress. “Can we head to the venue now please?” I asked my tone strained.
    “Yes,” they both said, still basking at seeing me standing in my red lace bra in the middle of a field. Bastards! They probably went back to the goon headquarters to jack off.
    “Did that make you assholes’ hard too?” I snapped into the mic to the agents.
    Ed shot me glance, but didn’t say a word.
    We entered the back gate of the mansion. The press was off to the side in a row of fold up chairs camera’s set up.
    During the reading of the vows I scanned the guests for the Senator. He was seated third row from the front.  The ceremony was short and for that I was grateful. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to get the goods on the Senator and get out. The wedding party headed off for pictures and cocktail hour began. Scarlett bolted to the caviar table grabbing two glasses of champagne as the waiter passed. I spotted the Senator laughing with an older couple as I inched my way closer. Ed started to follow me.
    “Stay put for a bit. I will let you know when I need you.”
    He nodded, “Yes,” and put the camera down on the chair.
    I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Miss Bombshell from the first night I met the Senator. The one who was with Victor and shot heat seeking missiles my direction. Our eyes met and it was as if she unleashed all her wrath with one look. Scarlett was back with a huge plate of caviar in one hand and her phone in the other, ordering a Gold-digger T-shirt in size bimbo for Miss Bombshell.
    “Senator, so nice to see you,” I said as he turned to face me.
    “Wish I’d could say the same, Miss Ellington,” he replied, motioning for Miss Bombshell to scram for a bit. She rolled her eyes and walked away in a huff.
    Scarlett stuck her tongue out at her and gave her the finger.
    “What are you doing here?”
    “I wanted to come over and thank you.”
    “For what?” His tone still brisk.
    “I took your advice. I’m no longer work for Nelson Stone. I’m covering big social events. Like this one.”
    The Senator’s stance relaxed some and so did his tone.
    “I’m sorry about your wife.”
    “Excuse me?” he asked eyeing me suspiciously.
    “Don’t worry this is off the record. Your date. I assume she is not Mrs. Matthews.”
    “No she’s not. We’re taking a break from each other to work on things. Off the record.”
    “That must be bad timing with the election right around the corner.”
    “What are you getting at, Miss Ellington?”
    “Nothing, just still trying to figure out how you sell that your marriage is not on the rocks to your voters. Maybe by getting in bed with men like Joe Salvatore that can slide some campaign money your direction and some contracts that will bring jobs to the most depressed