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When DC Madam Faith Crawley receives a call from former client, Senator William Drummond, it's the answer to her prayers. The money the dirty politician offers her to smear his rival Finn Billings will save Faith's business, her lifestyle, and her girls.
Raised in the shadow of a political magnate, Finn Billings has the credentials to get the job done, but he lacks confidence and wonders if politics is truly the life he desires.
Using the façade of her front business, a PR firm, Faith turns Finn into a political powerhouse while obtaining the evidence Drummond needs to destroy Finn's political chances. But Faith didn't plan on falling in love with her mark.
Now she has the toughest decision ever—give the sleazy senator incriminating photos of Finn to save her business or give up everything for the sake of love.
Page Count: 422
Word Count: 98070
The elevator pinged, the door slid open, and as I strode down the hallway that led to my office suite, I smelled the ghost aroma of someone’s citrusy cologne. The anxiety instigated from waking on the wrong side of someone else’s bed subsided as I paused in front of my glass-doored entrance.
My company was my home. My utopia. A reminder that despite everything, I’d arrived.
I scanned the room like a general observing her troops. The main room was a buzzing nest of activity. Leggy beauties wearing our signature paisley scarves, stiletto heels, and fire-engine-red lipstick, darted hither and thither. Classical music drifted from the speakers, and the rain-scented air freshener pleased my olfactory senses.
Everything was in order—well, almost. I pushed a crooked tassel on the Persian carpet back in place with the tip of my shoe and clucked my tongue. There. That was better.
Tiana, a biracial beauty with whiskey-colored eyes, greeted me in a husky tone. “Morning, Faith.”
“Morning.” I looked up and waved. Even in stilettoes, I was a half-foot shorter than my employee.
My girls were unique, each with talents that set them apart from others. Sure, we sold their assets on the side, but what company didn’t sell people? Ours was just more blatantly open about it. And like other corporations, ours banked on promises. Promises of companionship, promises to alleviate loneliness. But unlike other companies, we ensured satisfaction.
For the right price.
On paper, my consulting company was legal and legit. One team handled the daily operations of helping Washingtonians put their best foot forward, while a select group handled services not listed on our website, or what I liked to call the secret menu.
I passed through the reception area and glanced at the gleaming plaque that bore our company logo—Perfectly Polished. The sign cost an arm and an ankle, but it was worth every penny because it was the first thing I saw each day.
And better than the second thing I saw each day.
Sitting behind a large teak desk was Jeanine, my overpaid assistant. Her hair was teased into its usual beehive, and her phone headset was curled around her jawline. Cat-eye glasses were perched at the end of her nose, and two chopsticks and a ballpoint pen peeked out from her high hair dome. In all ten years I’d known Jeanine, I’d never seen her hair down. Not once.
Her makeup was applied with a heavy hand and the tangerine frock she wore was bright and inexcusable, even for someone as fashion-challenged as Jeanine. I stared at her dress, wondering what retailer in their right mind would sell anything that tacky? Or that orange.
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