“You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours”

“How can someone be so damn stubborn?”, Donovan punched into his dashboard.

“We need to do something, and fast,” Kenny explained.

“You think I don’t know that Kenny boy?”, Donovan glared.

“I’m sorry, but you should have been more rational”

“It’s all that girl’s fault,” he groaned. “Umm, he just needs someone to see, right?”, he asked Kenny to clarify.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“I’m going back in.” He swung the car door open

“Sir—,” he was gone before Kenny could convince him otherwise.

He walked through towards her cell at full speed. No matter how many times he entered a room, he still got the same respectful bows. He was already used to it and couldn’t imagine anything otherwise.

***

“You are utterly ungrateful!”, he grumbled.

“I know”, she got into the back seat of the car with mouth agape, she observed the clean finishes on the luxury vehicle. He was appalled and revolted. The drive to the first location was quiet and smooth.

“Aren’t we getting out?”, she spoke. When she didn’t get a response, she stayed quiet. After twenty minutes, Kenny stepped out of the car and approached a woman who apparently worked there. She handed the clothing bag in her hand over to Kenny. They exchanged warm smiles and walked in opposite directions.

“All set,” he said as he twisted the key in the ignition and the engine began to purr. In a matter of minutes, they were on the highway and then in Dumbo.

“Get out,” he growled.

“What?”, she was confused.

“I said get out, I can’t have my neighbors associating me with you”. Kenny got out of the car and pulled the back door open for Catherine.

“And Candace was it,” he snapped his finger, “Don’t screw this up for me,” he finished saying before zooming off. Kenny and Catherine walked towards the back entrance.

“Where is she?”, Donovan asked with sheer irritation displayed on his face.

“In the powder room”

“I hope she also takes a shower,” Donovan scoffed. Kenny stayed mute and walked the opposite direction.

Donovan sat out, patiently waiting for her. Shortly after his quick matcha break, he became a little impatient. Why was she taking so much time?

He knocked aggressively on the door. When there was no answer, he played with the handle a little. After a while, the door to the powder room opened, revealing Catherine.

She was dressed in a black pencil skirt, as expected, and a sky blue dress shirt. Her bra pushed up her well-rounded breasts, and the two non-existent buttons at the collar of the shirt didn’t help the situation. In fact, it worsened it.

Her cleavage was clearly visible, and the thin cotton material of her shirt generously revealed her perky nipples. To crown of it all, her hair was in a sleek bun. Catherine looked like she came to role play.

Donovan stood in awe, trying to erase the smirk gradually forming on his face. She pulled down the miniskirt, which hung her around her slender waist and small hips as she walked towards him. Hard as she tried, it wouldn’t stay down—the skirt and his dick.

“I can’t wear this!”, she protested.

“You can and you will!”, he demanded.

“I—I”, she was cut off.

“Shh, it’s time!”, Donovan stood with his shoulders squared as the sound of Mr. Stanford’s footsteps got closer.

“They’re right over here, sir,” Kenny led him in. He walked towards Donovan and whispered in his ear. “I think we got the wrong size”. “I know,” Donovan brushed him off.

“Okay, down to business. What’s her educational qualification?”, he shot a question rapidly.

“She has a degree in business management and another one in political science”

“Brilliant,” he said, “School?”.

“Stanford University sir.” His lips formed a thin line. If he was impressed, he had no intention of showing it.

“Communication skills?”

“Flawless,” Donovan effortlessly spewed rubbish from his mouth. Anything to impress Stanford. Plus, he wasn’t even planning on doing anything with her. After this, it was straight to prison. Of course, she didn’t know that. He just needed a toy to sate his grandfather.

“Let’s test that, shall we?” Donovan gulped hard at that statement.

“What are the roles of a political campaign manager?”, Catherine heaved a huge sigh, which got Donovan feeling uneasy.

“Oversee campaigns for ballot measures and candidates “, she spoke with confidence.

He smirked, “too easy,” he folded his arms and stared into space.

“What would be your role here, assisting the campaign manager?”

“Plan and implement campaign strategies,” she spoke confidently.

“How do we get publicity for the campaign?”

“Plan events including; fundraisers, rallies, press releases”

“Hmm…,” he observed her cautiously.

“What is class struggle?” he asked.

Without hesitation, she said “the struggle of the working class for a more equal share of political power and economic security, usually in opposition to a powerful upper class- basically it’s on the rise right now due to the growing gap between the rich and poor,” Donovan stood in awe.

“How many seats are there in parliament?”

“The English parliament?”, she asked. “six hundred and five, last I checked,” she continued.

“Who called the first parliament?”

“Simon de Montfort’s parliament of 1265 is sometimes referred to as the first representative English parliament sir”

He clapped in amusement, “Finally! That’s our guy Dony,” Stanford laughed hard.

“Girl,” she corrected.

“What? “, he asked.

“You said guy, but I’m a girl,” she spoke softly. “Lady, if you may,” she corrected.

“Lady,” he repeated. “Okay, Lady. You’re dismissed”.

***

“Korea? Korea!”, Donovan emphasized.

“Yes, Korea,” Stanford nodded in the affirmative. “Your brother has an honorary award to collect. It’s all part of his campaign!”.

“She’s a new staff! How can she be following us on a family trip?”, he spoke with a slight stutter.

Stanford was silent. He thought deeply, with careful consideration. “She’s coming! Not only is she coming, she’s also planning for logistics”. When he spoke this way, the decision was final. What had Donovan gotten himself into?