THE SYSTEM Chapter 5
Fifth Serialized Chapter of The System, Out Tomorrow—Friday, June 6th!
Chapter 1 here. Chapter 2 here. Chapter 3 here. Chapter 4 here.
Preorder in digital today; digital, trade paperback, and audiobook (narrated by yours truly) out tomorrow—Friday, June 6th!
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Chapter 5
Politics is the shadow cast on society by big business.
—John Dewey
Valeria sat in the hushed Tyson’s Corner Ritz Carlton conference room, all wood-paneled walls and thick carpeting and stylish leather furniture. Dennis’s restaurants were high-end, but it was one thing to work in a place, another to be served there, and she was anxious. She took a sip of coffee from a delicate porcelain cup and had to admit it was delicious—though how much of that was the coffee and how much the presentation she wasn’t really sure.
Preston, sitting next to her, was looking left and right as though anticipating an ambush. “I don’t like it,” he said. “We should have just met at Dunne’s office.”
“I told you, he said we could. But he thought we’d be better off keeping this meeting private.”
Preston threw up his hands. “I don’t even understand who this guy Cranston is. There’s almost nothing about him on the Internet. Plus Dunne acting like he’s your new BFF, and setting up a meeting at this fancy hotel, which by the way is totally not in keeping with your brand—”
“Fillian said Cranston doesn’t advertise, so—”
“When did he become ‘Fillian’?”
“Preston, we beat him, okay? He’s finished. We can afford to be magnanimous.”
He shook his head and looked away.
She waited a beat, then leaned closer and whispered, “You know you’re cute when you sulk.”
It was true, too. He had such beautiful lips, and when he pouted it always made her want to take advantage of him.
He looked at her sidelong. “You’re bad.”
She put a hand on his thigh. “I noticed there’s a lock on the door.”
“Uh-huh. And what are we going to tell Dunne and Cranston when they get here?”
“They’re political people. They’ll be late.”
“And if they’re not?”
She let her hand drift higher. “I’m a congresswoman-elect. They’ll wait.”
He shook his head. But she could tell he wanted to, and it excited her more. “You know I could order you,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And you’d have to do whatever I tell you.”
He glanced at the door. “Come on, we can’t.”
She was totally turned on now. She stood and went around the table. “Val, this is crazy,” she heard him say.
She locked the door, then came back and stood behind him. “Face me.”
He spun the chair around and looked at her. He was flushed.
“Scoot down in that nice leather chair. And open your pants.”
“Val—”
“Stop wasting time,” she said, breathing hard. “Do as I tell you.”
He glanced at the door again, then eased his hips forward and unbuckled his belt. A moment later his pants were around his thighs, his erection straining against his boxers.
She bent her knees and reached under her skirt. Moving even a little she could feel how wet she was.
Preston was past protesting now. He slid his boxers down. She hooked her thumbs inside her panties, lowered them until they dropped, and stepped out of them. Then she raised her skirt, straddled his thighs, and took hold of him. He gasped.
“Shhh,” she whispered, pressing her fingers against his lips. “You have to be quiet.”
She guided him slowly into her. He moaned beneath her fingers and pushed up with his hips.
She paused and pressed her fingers more firmly against his mouth. “No. Hold still. Stay just like that.”
He moaned behind her hand and settled back into the seat. Staring into his eyes, she eased down again, then up a little, then down again, then more, until he was fully inside her. She waited a moment, still staring into his eyes, then started moving, relishing the feeling of having him under her control. She could feel the breath whistling out of his nose past her fingers and hear his soft groans and it was so hot, so fucking hot, she loved having him like this, making him do exactly what she wanted and how she wanted. And she loved that he loved it, too.
She could tell from his eyes that he was already close. “No,” she cooed. “Not yet, baby, you’re not allowed to come yet. Not until I tell you.” She started rubbing hard against the spot over his pubic bone, the way she needed to get off. He grunted and she knew it was hurting him but she rubbed harder, faster, and she felt her orgasm rolling in and she heard herself saying Good, okay, like that, yes, yes, yes, and she felt him coming and then she was coming, too, and she grabbed the back of his head and closed her mouth over his and sucked on his tongue and rode him the way she needed to and came and came and came.
When it was done she collapsed against him, and they stayed that way for a moment, foreheads and noses pressed together, catching their breath and laughing softly. She could feel a trickle under her thighs and was glad they had switched from condoms to an IUD. Maybe it was Pavlovian, but she loved that wetness afterward, and the accompanying sensation of him softening inside her. There was something so vulnerable involved, as though he wasn’t just spent from their lovemaking but was actually dissolving from it. It made her feel responsible for him, protective, and so achingly tender she could almost cry.
The handle of the door clicked against the lock. Preston froze under her. “Shit,” he breathed.
There was a knock. She jumped off Preston’s lap, snatched her panties from the floor, and pulled them up. Preston dragged his pants back into place and buckled his belt.
She walked quickly to the door and looked over at Preston: We good? He raked his hair back and nodded.
She smoothed her skirt, and then, trying to ignore the stickiness between her thighs, unlocked the door and opened it. There was Dunne, holding a briefcase and a Starbucks coffee awkwardly in the same hand. He raised his eyebrows. “Thought I had the wrong conference room.”
“Oh,” she said. “We just . . . you made it sound like it would be better if we kept this meeting private, so . . .”
She realized if he asked, Then why would you open the door without asking who’s there?, she would have no good answer. For a second she felt sure he knew, that they’d been busted like a couple of horny kids. But no, probably she was being paranoid. Preston’s influence.
“Absolutely,” Dunne said, walking in. “With a little privacy, you can get away with all sorts of things in this town.”
Valeria sensed he was suppressing a smile, and instantly changed her mind about being paranoid. Well, fuck him if he has a problem with it. I’m the congressperson now. She closed the door and went back around the table.
Preston stood and offered a hand. “Congressman.”
Dunne set down his bag and coffee and shook Preston’s hand. “Not much longer,” he said with a chuckle. “Thanks to the two of you.”
Valeria was surprised his tone wasn’t at all bitter. If anything, it was . . . buoyant. Her mind flashed to an O. Henry story she’d read as a kid, The Ransom of Red Chief, about a child so obnoxious that when he’s kidnapped the parents are actually relieved.
Dunne took a seat across from them. “Montie’s running late,” he said. “A meeting at the Department of the Interior. That oil spill off Louisiana.”
Valeria had seen something about a Gulf spill on the news, though reports were vague. “How bad is it?”
Dunne shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, it’s going to be classified as an SONS—a Spill of National Significance. Like the Deepwater Horizon incident. But in the end, still just a spill.”
“Can I ask you something?” Preston said.
There was a pause. “Sure,” Dunne said.
Preston’s tone had been notably direct, and Valeria thought she knew where he was going. But she didn’t like the timing any more than the tone.
“We appreciate that you want to keep the NGAD program in Palmdale,” Preston said. “And we’re looking forward to meeting Cranston and hearing your thoughts on strategy. But—”
“You want to know why I’m dealing in Valeria.”
It was as Valeria had thought. She and Preston had talked about Dunne’s motives. But she hadn’t expected Preston to bring it up so soon, or so abruptly. Was he trying to catch Dunne off guard? Did he feel protective of her immediately after their lovemaking?
Preston nodded. “Pretty much.”
Dunne looked at Valeria. “You want the truth? Or the whole truth?”
She smiled, hoping it would obscure her irritation with Preston. “Does anyone ever answer that question other than ‘the whole truth’?”
“No,” Dunne said. “But I like to offer the option.”
When she didn’t answer, he said, “The truth is that as I’ve told you, I want to protect those jobs.”
“Really?” Preston said. “I mean, ultimately those people voted you out of office. Why do you care? I think most people would enjoy the schadenfreude, a little How-you-like-me-now? fuck-you laugh.”
She and Preston had used exactly those phrases when they’d been trying to divine Dunne’s motives—and one more, too, a flip of the bird as you ride off into the sunset. But that was when it was just the two of them. What was the point of being so aggressive about it to Dunne’s face?
Dunne looked at him. “I don’t know which of those people voted for Valeria and which voted for me. I do know none of their kids voted at all. Would you prefer that I punish everyone just to get back at whichever people were foolish enough to vote for the wrong candidate?”
Valeria smiled at the way he put it. “So what’s the whole truth?”
Dunne shifted his gaze to her. “The whole truth is that if you’re not part of the package, Valeria, I have less of a chance of selling it.”
“Why? What do I have to offer?”
“Here’s the good news,” Dunne said. “The Pentagon takes you seriously. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have moved the program, which is about punishing you. The bad news is the way they take you seriously. They see you as a threat. So you need to make nice with them. Show them you know when competition should give way to cooperation.”
“Cooperation?” Preston said. “No. You mean cooptation.”
Jesus, Preston, ease up, we can read between the lines, you don’t have to call him out every time—
“This move isn’t about the program,” Dunne said, ignoring Preston’s jab. “It’s about Valeria. And Valeria, if you don’t make nice with the Pentagon, then no matter what else I can put together to get the decisionmakers to see the error of their ways, my chances of getting them to keep the program in Palmdale are much lower.”
For once, Preston held back, and for a moment they were all quiet. Valeria said, “What if the Pentagon doesn’t want to play nice?”
“We’ll cross that bridge if we have to,” Dunne said. “But if we don’t at least try, the program is gone. And five thousand jobs gone with it.”
* * * * *
Chapter 1 here. Chapter 2 here. Chapter 3 here. Chapter 4 here.
Endnotes to each chapter are here.
Preorder in digital today; digital, trade paperback, and audiobook (narrated by yours truly) out tomorrow— Friday, June 6th!
And if you’re in the Bay Area, I’ll be launching the book at Kepler’s tomorrow— Friday, June 6th, at 6:00 pm. Hope to see you there!
