Weapons of Mass Seduction Read online

  Pia sat and waited for Darlene to inform her that the call had gone through. She put her hands behind her head and with her feet on her desk leaned back in the chair, smiling wide and very pleased with herself. Valen Bellamy wasn’t the only one who could campaign hard when need be. And he certainly wasn’t the only one who could plan one hell of a surprise.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, darlin’.”

  “Flo! Girl, how are you? That red hot night must have caught fire. I thought you were going to call me the next day. So how did it go?”

  “Good, all things considered.”

  “Any hot pucking?” Pia asked, repeating her joke.

  “No. Old Dan just wasn’t quite ready for anythin’ that kinky…” She paused, not sure she was ready to admit the defeat she was feeling.

  “And?”

  “And I think he was more excited by the hockey game than bein’ with me. When it came time for the red hot part…well, let’s just say the night cooled down considerably.”

  “I’m sorry, Flo. I know how much you were looking forward to it.”

  “It wasn’t a complete bust. We agreed to start datin’ again and see where we stand at the end of the year.”

  “Sounds like progress. Have you started yet?”

  “Well, we went to dinner and a movie this past Tuesday. We had a good time, considerin’.”

  “There’s that word again. Considering what?”

  “Considerin’ nothin’ went as planned. I thought we’d try somethin’ different like Thai food and then go see that Reese Witherspoon movie.”

  “Sounds fun so far. It’s hard to go wrong with pad Thai noodles and Reese.”

  “Well, Dan decided he wanted to eat Tex-Mex—again—like he doesn’t eat that six out of the seven days in a week. But I figured it was more important to have a good time than argue where my next five pounds were comin’ from, so I agreed.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Pia replied.

  “Yeah, ’cept he farted nonstop through the movie, but then that stunk too, so they kinda worked together.”

  “That movie got great reviews,” Pia remarked between giggles.

  “It did, but we didn’t see it. When we got to the cinemaplex, Dan saw the new Nicholas Cage movie was playin’. He begged me to see that instead of ‘some chick flick.’ By that time I was too miffed to care. But the popcorn was good and Nicholas Cage is cute, even though he’s more than a few macaronis short of a mosaic.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Flo,” Pia said, hoping her uncontrollable laughter didn’t make her seem insensitive and uncaring, but Florence was damn funny.

  “Darlin’, there’s nothin’ to say except that’s marriage to Daniel Jeb Chase. At least we’re spendin’ time together. So enough about me and my sizzlin’ love life. What about you? How you feelin’ these days?”

  “Good. The morning sickness has settled down, and even though I’m three months along, I’m still wearing my own clothes.”

  “The first time around, I was nearly seven months before I had to make the switch. By the third kid, I went straight from peein’ on the stick into the cow clothes.

  “And speakin’ of keepin’ things hidden for as long as you can, how’s your politician doin’? Any more dates in the park?”

  “No, but I’m seeing him tonight.”

  “So you two are datin’ now.”

  “No. I mean, I like Valen. He’s a very interesting man, but the only reason I’m seeing him again is because my boss stepped in and insisted.”

  “Your boss? I don’t think so, sugar. Make no mistake, that was fate doin’ the high steppin’.”

  You’re not even showing. Dee’s words echoed through Pia’s head. She was grateful for that fact, particularly now, as she zipped up her evening gown. She’d chosen an emerald green Grecian-styled empire waist dress for her night out with Valen. It was the perfect design, not only because it was fabulously fashionable but because of the way the silky accordion pleats flowed over her body, camouflaging any questionable bulge. Strappy high-heel sandals and a crystal-studded headband completed her ensemble. Pia smiled. She was pleased. She looked appropriately dignified and yet sexy.

  After a quick touch-up to her makeup, she grabbed her purse and wrap and the brown envelopment tied neatly with a bow and bearing a tag with Valen’s name on it. She’d worked hard to create the handmade invitation, wanting it to look and feel special. Pia tried to convince herself that this was all about saving Reston Walker’s event, but deep down she knew this was also about impressing a man who seemed so thoroughly impressed with her. It had been so long since Pia had experienced romance in her life that her soul was starved for the sweet thrill that came with such feelings. She knew it was only temporary, just for this one Cinderella night, but Pia was determined to savor every delicious moment this evening might bring and not worry about tomorrow until tomorrow arrived.

  Pia headed downstairs to hail a cab. She climbed in and settled into the worn leather of the taxi seat. She could feel her stomach bubbling up, and for once it wasn’t nausea. This was pure, unadulterated excitement causing her stomach to flutter. As much as she claimed the opposite to both Dee and Florence, she was looking forward to seeing Valen again. If everything went as planned, tonight was definitely going to be memorable.

  The GOP candidate for the United States Senate had no idea what he was walking into later this evening. Thanks to some mighty string pulling, Pia was planning to top their breakfast at Greenacre Park, lovely as it was, in a big, big way. Pia was determined to make their one night together the best, most romantic almost affair to remember.

  By the time Pia arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, its majestic lobby, with its sky-high archways, impossibly tall ceilings, and stately columns lining the room, had been transformed into a cool and charismatic summer venue. White linen curtains, gently caressed by artfully placed fans, fluttered along the room’s perimeter, brushing along the grove of palm trees that had been shipped in for the event.

  It was nine-forty. She’d agreed to meet Valen at nine-thirty, but in a space teeming with designer-clad lawyers, financiers, businessmen, and other such power brokers accompanied by their bright and shiny escorts, it was difficult to immediately pinpoint Valen’s location. Pia watched this multicultural crowd of semiprofessional philanthropists merrily talking, dancing, and drinking and suspected that this was probably the second or third such event they’d attended this week.

  She found her way to the bar and requested a ginger ale and lime. Then a commotion drew her attention away from her people watching. Turning to the source of the bustle, Pia saw Valen and his small but obvious entourage enter the party. From the moment he stepped through the door, Pia watched him work the room with his campaign manager. Guided by Ed, Valen made the rounds, shaking hands, smiling brightly, laughing appropriately, and charming his supporters and potential voters. Ed would run interference, directing Valen toward those he had to speak to and away from others he perceived to be trouble. Eventually they made their way to the bar, and the sight of Valen Bellamy walking toward her, with his suave, confident stride, made her stomach lurch with the kind of excitement reserved for kids on Christmas Eve.

  Pia, remember what you’re here for. Keep your eye on the prize.

  It was impossible not to. The up-close view of Valen Bellamy was spectacular. While it was difficult for any man, no matter how unattractive, to look bad in a tuxedo, Valen wore the uniform exceptionally well. He looked as if he’d just stepped off the page of an Armani ad.

  It was obvious the moment he spotted her. Pia watched as his tried-and-true candidate’s smile grew wide into authentic personal delight.

  Oh, this is going to be big fun, Pia decided. She took a deep breath, eliminating any nerves and revving up her flirting machine.

  “Valen Bellamy, so glad to see you,” a rough voice with a Don’t-mess-with-me edge called out, interrupting their reunion.

  “Reston. How are you?”
Valen asked, returning his benefactor’s hearty handshake. He glanced over the man’s shoulder and was pleasantly unnerved to see Pia’s eyes glued to him as she sipped her drink. He gave her a nearly indiscernible wink before turning his full attention back to his conversation.

  “We should talk about the Bellamy Plan,” Reston Walker said, clinging to Valen’s hand for dear life. “And the big announcement coming up. We need to nail things down.”

  “We will. But not tonight. Please speak to Ed here and give him your ideas,” Valen said, reclaiming his hand. “We’ll chat very soon.” Pia watched as he deftly stepped aside and behind his staffer, using Ed as a buffer so he could make a graceful exit. It was a skillful pas de deux the two had obviously performed countless times before.

  With a head nod, Valen signaled to Pia to cross to the other side of the room. She joined him and for a frozen moment in time the two stood in a pool of mutual admiration, inspecting each other. Valen’s eyes devoured Pia, starting from her sparkling headband to the red-tipped toes peeking from underneath her gown. Accompanying his gaze was a warm smile that was a mixture of manly appreciation and boyish delight.

  “You look stunning,” he told her, continuing to treat his eyes to her form.

  “So do you.”

  “Thanks. I’m so glad you could come on such short notice,” Valen said, reaching out to shake hands. It was clear from way he gently cradled her small hand with his larger one that this handshake was simply about protocol. She had the distinct impression that had they been alone his greeting would have been very different.

  “I’m so glad you asked. It’s interesting to watch you work, Senator.”

  “Not yet, but I’m glad you’re thinking positively,” he said, smiling again. At that moment flasbulbs went off, capturing the two of them on film. Valen graciously posed but gave a quick signal, and from seemingly nowhere Ed appeared and politely shooed the media away.

  “Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

  “No problem. May I speak to you for a minute before you have to get back to work?”

  “Sure.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “I don’t think there’s much I could deny you while you’re wearing that dress,” Valen flirted. Pia felt herself blush as she tucked her lower lip behind her teeth to keep her smile from floating off into the decorative breeze. It had been so long since a man had looked at her with such glowing intensity that Pia found herself savoring the attention.

  “My company and Reston Walker are hosting an event in two weeks where they are hoping you will announce your ‘Respect Yourself’ campaign. I’m told you’ve refused to participate, and, well, I wanted to make sure you didn’t say no because you were angry at me, because, well, you know—”

  “Wait,” Valen said, stopping her in midsentence. “You are beautiful, Pia Jamison. Beautiful and smart, sexy, and real, and those are all things I covet in a woman. But as attractive as I find you, I would never pass up such an important event just because my ego got bruised. If I did that every time someone shut the door in my face, I’d be in another line of business.”

  “So why did you say no?”

  “I’m not really sure that I did. My staff may have been weighing other options. I can’t honestly tell you,” he explained. “I can tell you that if you’re going to be there, I’ll make it happen.”

  “Thank you, Valen. I can’t tell you what great news this is,” Pia replied. She knew his agreement would please Harmon and Reston, but Pia was surprised by the level of delight it brought her to know that another opportunity to see Valen awaited her.

  Once again, a knowing tension took over the conversation, leaving them to communicate through their eyes and facial expressions. “Well, you have flesh to press and votes to win, so I’ll leave you to your work,” Pia said, breaking the silence.

  “Have I won yours?” Valen asked with an I dare you to say no grin.

  “That remains to be seen, Mr. Bellamy. There you go again.”

  “What?”

  “You’re smirking.”

  “Sorry,” he offered, only smirking more.

  “So, I’ll just mill around here for bit longer and then go.”

  “But we haven’t danced together yet,” Valen said, not wanting to give up an opportunity to hold this captivating woman.

  “Another time.”

  “We’re still meeting later, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “You haven’t told me where.”

  “This will explain everything,” Pia said, handing Valen the handmade invite. “Put it in your pocket and promise not to read it until you’re sitting in the back of your car.”

  Valen reached for the invitation and placed it in his breast pocket without breaking their gaze. “You’re sure I can’t open it now?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s all about the anticipation, Senator,” Pia said looking away and once again biting her lower lip, a telling sign that Valen was getting to her. “I think you’d better go. Ed looks as if he’s about to come drag you off by your hair.”

  “He’s tenacious, but not so tough,” Valen said, making them laugh and dispersing some of the energy engulfing them. “I’ll see you soon. And Pia, once again, you’re right.”

  “About?”

  “The anticipation. It’s killing me.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Ninety minutes later, at 11:49 P.M., Valen climbed into the back of his black town car and closed the door, effectively shutting out the crazy world of political campaigning. He could not remember when he’d looked forward to the end of a party so much.

  Since last October when he’d announced his run for the Senate, Valen’s life had become a nonstop series of meetings, appearances, parties and powwows. As state comptroller, his schedule had been rough as well, but campaign life had definitely kicked the concept of all work and no play into a much higher gear. Tonight he wanted to play, and he wanted a playmate who intrigued and excited him. Pia Jamison was that woman. It was as if he’d been waiting forever for her to come into his life and fate had decided that now was the time, and tucked safely in his pocket was the place.

  Valen reached into his jacket and retrieved Pia’s invitation. He took a moment to examine the presentation. With its chocolate and blue satin bow and name tag, it looked more like a gift than an invitation. Little did she know that time away from the rigors of his dreams and responsibilities was the most precious present she could ever extend. Smiling at her thoughtfulness, Valen slipped the tie from the envelopment and opened the four flaps to reveal his destiny.

  Thursday, May 21

  “There must be something between us, even if it’s only an ocean.”—Terry McKay, An Affair to Remember

  Your presence is requested in the eighty-sixth-floor observatory of the Empire State Building 350 Fifth Avenue at midnight for an evening to remember

  “An evening to remember, indeed,” Valen murmured, noting the date. “Mr. Lee, to the Empire State Building. And please, drive carefully.”

  On the ride over, Valen studied Pia’s invitation, reading between every line to garner any hint about her feelings. “There must be something between us, even if it’s only an ocean.” Pia had chosen the perfect quote to describe his mind’s ponderings. There was something solid but currently indefinable about what was happening between them, but whatever it was, it had definite possibilities. Were those possibilities ocean deep? Only time would tell. But right now Valen was ready and willing to wade out into the surf to find out.

  He arrived at the New York landmark and to his surprise found the elevator door open and a glass of champagne awaiting his arrival. “Eighty-sixth floor,” Valen requested, though he had the feeling the elevator operator already knew. Free from the constraints of public scrutiny, he gulped down the sparkling wine, hoping to sedate his nerves. He wasn’t sure what awaited him, but whatever it was, Valen was already having a great time.

  The doors opened and Valen stepped out into the warm night
air to find a silent and completely deserted observatory deck. He checked his watch. He was only minutes late, so certainly she hadn’t left. Perhaps she was running late. Valen stood paralyzed by indecision. Should he return to the lobby or wait for her here?

  A flash of the movie on which this evening appeared to be themed ran through his mind. Would he be like Cary Grant, waiting in vain for a lover who never arrived? While Valen’s logic didn’t play out the whole cab accident scenario, he had to wonder if Pia, skittish as she’d been in the past, had changed her mind.

  Off in the not too far distance a fluted rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “Knock Me Off My Feet” caught his ear. Valen turned and slowly walked toward the pleasantly haunting sound. Another wave of luscious anticipation swept over him as he approached the curve that led to other side of the deck.

  As Valen made the turn he saw her standing at the rail, looking absolutely stunning, gazing out into the city lights. Through the miracle of connected friends, Pia had managed to turn the back corner of the observatory into a private and very romantic stage set for a lovely night of city gazing.

  Nearby, a single, high bar table topped with flickering tea lights and flanked by two stools sat as focal point of this enchanting setup. The stools sat high enough to see over the rail and out into the impressive Manhattan skyline. Nina Horton, a popular jazz flautist and a friend of Pia’s, sat in the shadows, physically removed from the scene, her music filling the spaces between conversation and the faint night sounds of the city below.

  “I thought this would be a nice place for a nightcap,” Pia said as he approached.

  “This is your favorite spot in New York?” Valen asked, feeling his smile stretch wider than it had in years.

  “It is tonight.”

  “Well, Ms. Jamison, you have managed to do something that nobody has done in a long time.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “Good. Then maybe this really will be a night to remember.”