ROMANCING THE BULLDOG by Mallory Monroe

you’d like,” he said, a little less bombastic this time. If she backed out, he would
    probably be grateful. Why he even asked her when he knew he was in the middle of a
    campaign launch and had little time for anything, let alone a dinner date that didn’t involve
    making a deal with some lobbyist in exchange for his interest group’s support. Liz, too, caught
    his sudden hesitation.
    “Thanks, but no,” she said, although a part of her might have liked to go out on a date
    again. It had been one hellava messy divorce and a long time since she’d had the privilege.
    “But thanks anyway,” she said again.
    The deflated sound of her voice, as if she could sense his hesitation, pained him. The last
    think in the world he had wanted to do was hurt her. For some crazy reason even he couldn’t
    understand, he decided then and there that he couldn’t back down.
    “How about eight?” he said.
    “Eight?” Liz asked. “I think I just said no, Jason.”
    “I know what you said, but I really need this favor, Elizabeth.”
    Liz frowned. “What favor?”
    “I really need you to have dinner with me tonight.”
    There he was with that need word again. Did this town have an unstable mayor on their
    hands, she wondered. “Why would you need me to do anything with you? You don’t even
    know me.” Then she blushed. Besides the Biblical sense, she wanted to say.
    “But I need, I want to get to know you.”
    “But why?”
    Jason hesitated. Placed his hands back in his pants pockets. Staring at her. “I don’t
    know,” he finally admitted.
    Liz, taken by his honesty, understood. She nodded her head. “Okay,” she said.
    “Okay what?”
    “Okay I’ll have dinner with you tonight.”
    Jason smiled for the first time since his arrival and this was the Jason, the man, that she had
    liked. “Perfect,” he said, satisfied. AI have meetings up until after seven, so I’ll have to meet
    you at the restaurant if that’s okay? Do you know where to find Chevette’s?”
    “Yes, but. . .”
    “Great. I’ll see you there at eight.”
    “I don’t, I mean, I don’t have my transportation right at the moment, it’s in the shop, and I
    can’t. . .” And she can’t afford a cab, she had wanted to say, but couldn’t bring herself to say
    it. “Never mind. I’ll get somebody to drop me off.”
    But who, she wondered. There were only two people that she would ask, her aunt and
    Shameika, and they both led exceedingly busy lives.
    “Nonsense,” Jason interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll send my . . .” He almost said that he
    would send his driver to pick her up, but he really didn’t want anybody else knowing about
    their date, especially not after the way his staff had acted about yesterday. He wanted this
    date to be completely private and separate from his public life.
    “Tell you what,” he said, pulling out a set of keys and removing one from the chain. “You
    drive the car.” He handed her the key.
    “Drive the car?” Liz asked, confused. “Drive what car?”
    “My car. It’s out front.”
    “But. . . how are you supposed to-”
    “I’ll have your secretary call a cab. While I’m waiting I want to check out the Center. You
    stay here and finish your work. I’ll see you at Chevette’s tonight at eight.”
    “But Jason---”
    “See you tonight, Elizabeth,” Jason said so firmly that Liz was hard pressed to say anything
    more. Realizing this he smiled, and then he left.
    Liz just stood there, not sure if she should welcome his attention or be repulsed by it. Then
    she realized she had a car key in her hand. She hurried to the window. No, he wouldn’t leave
    her with that great a responsibility, she thought. But he had. For sitting at the curb in front of
    the Center was what looked to her to be a spanking brand new, apple-red, Aston Martin sports
    convertible. At least the top, she thanked God, wasn’t down. But what if somebody dented it,
    or stole it? She probably couldn’t afford to replace