The Senator's Hispanic Bride

THE SENATOR'S

HISPANIC BRIDE

ALEXIS GOLD

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2015 Alexis Gold

Written by Alexis Gold. All Rights Reserved To Alexis Gold

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BOOK DESCRIPTION

For Isabella it all seemed too good to be true. Michael is a senator and could, one day, be the President of the United States.  He is easily the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan and could have any woman he wants.

Yet he only has eyes for her.

And now he has asked the question that all women wait their lives to be asked. He has asked for her hand in marriage and Isabella has said yes. She is the happiest girl in the world and she also feels like the luckiest. Coming from such a poor background this is a fairytale ending for her.

However, what Isabella does not know is that behind Michael's dazzling blue eyes lies a secret. A secret so dark it could threaten to change everything she ever believed about the man she believes she loves.

Could Michael's proposal not be all that it seems?

READ ON TO FIND OUT HOW IT ALL DEVELOPS!

Table Of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter One

The afternoon traffic rushed and halted and rushed again, through the humming noise of car horns, people shouting and talking, whistles blowing, music playing, machines running, and the chaos of civilization in the Big Apple. Behind the dark windows of his stretch limousine, Michael stretched out his long, muscular legs and crossed them at the ankle without looking. His eyes were focused on the article tucked too far into the pages of the newspaper he was reading.

The man sitting across from him was reading the same paper. He was older and though his stomach hung over his belt and his hair was nearly gone, he was polished and primed, dressed in a dark blue suit and a silver tie, with silver cufflinks and a glint in his eye.

He looked at the younger man. Michael was tall and fit, his arms and chest sculpted with toned muscles. His body was lean and strong. He had jet black hair and sky blue eyes. Glenn, the older man, had teased him that his politics were successful because of his looks more than his humanitarian platform, but as of late, it had gotten out of hand.

“They have you pegged as the ladies’ candidate, Michael. That’s not how you want to run this race. You have to appeal to everyone, not just the women. I know you can’t help appealing to them, but if the papers keep running stories on you clear back here on page twelve, showing you as the hot young candidate for the senatorial seat, you’re not going to even be in the running. If you want people to take you seriously, you're going to have to change your public image and fast.” Glenn watched him with his watery grey eyes over the top of his newspaper.

“I know, Glenn. I’m working on it. I’ll handle it tonight.” He looked at the article and bit his lip.

The writer, who was a man, hadn’t written hardly anything at all about any of his platforms, only about how the race wasn’t his, but rather that of the women who wanted to take him off of the bachelor’s market. It frustrated him to see another article of that nature. This one hadn’t been the first; there were months and months of them printed in newspapers and online. He couldn’t do much about those because they would write and print whatever they wanted, but he had been able to make a little headway with the interviews on radio and television. It never failed, they always brought up the women who wanted him and loved him, and his looks; those two deep dimples in his cheeks, his ocean blue eyes, the pitch black wavy hair he wore to his neckline, the muscular body he kept in excellent shape, his single relationship status. It was never about the things that mattered most to him, and he would have to redirect the conversations to the topics he cared so much about, and the reasons he was running for Senator of New York.

He was passionate about the environment, animal safety and care, education, equality among the people in his community, and historical preservation, which he oftentimes tied into tourism to increase small business profit in the cities. His looks were so good that they almost crippled his ability, and he found that he was frequently riding a razor’s edge between using them to his benefit and being used by them as his downfall.

“Don’t worry, Glenn,” he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.  He laid the paper down on the mini-bar in the car and looked out the window at the city. He loved Manhattan. He wanted to see not only his city but also his whole state shine and succeed. He knew he was idealistic but he was sure he could make a change that would better the communities that he was a part of.

Glenn harrumphed. “Well, you better hurry up. Every single day we aren’t ahead in this race is a day wasted, and that jackass Childress is laughing it up every time someone mentions you to him. He was even talking about it yesterday on the radio saying, if he had half your looks it wouldn’t be a race at all, it would be a shutout. He did screw up a little, though, he keeps demeaning the women who chase after you and follow you through the media and social networks. He thinks poorly of them because they pander after you. That’s going to hurt him, that, and his stance on immigration control. The Puerto Rican sect for the entire state is ready to lynch him.

“I was looking into what they are actually doing with their neighborhoods and I think it would be a good idea for you and Isabella to start visiting them. The local businesses and organizations have really been pushing their communities to get out and vote. If the numbers I saw today are right, then by the time Election Day rolls around, the Latin American, Caribbean, and Hispanic communities combined would equate to more than one third of the voters. If you could sway them, you would win this election. They’re tired of the old, rich, white, lying politicians that have run this state, and even this country, for so long. You need to show them that you’re different.” Glenn leaned back in his seat and gazed at Michael.

Michael scoffed. “Yeah, I’ll show them I’m different. I’m a young, rich, white politician who hasn’t started lying to them yet. They just haven’t seen that I’m different yet.” He raked his hand through his hair. “It’ll take some time, but I’ll show them. I’m not ever going to lie to them.”

Glenn leaned forward and put his hands on his knees and narrowed his eyes at Michael. “Yes, you will. It’s just how politics are. You see, the whole thing operates in layers and it’s never a matter of black or white, truth or lie, it’s always gray matter. The truth is shuffled and shifted between the layers. Honesty is a nice smile to wear on Sundays, but it isn’t real. Life isn’t that simple. Nothing about running a community, a city, a state, or even a country is simple. Ever. It’s just layers of gray details and deals between those with power and those who want it or want to use it. The further up the ladder you go, the more complicated it is. You just have to get the public to trust you long enough to get you into office. Then you’re in for as long as you want to be there, unless some young upstart like you starts running against you.”

“I refuse to believe all of that, Glenn. I didn’t get into politics to scam anyone or to get power and use it over people. I got into politics to make a difference, because I
can
make a difference.” Michael scowled slightly.

“You’re young, naïve and idealistic. The only difference you’ve made so far is that your face is one of the most popular mugs for people to buy on products. You’ve become a landslide in the merchandising market. Congratulations on making a difference.” Glenn sat back in his seat and gave a sarcastic laugh at Michael.

Michael frowned at him. “You’re supposed to be helping me, giving me guidance, managing my campaign, and showing me how to navigate these political waters safely and successfully. What the heck am I paying you for?”

Glenn laughed out loud. “We’ll get you there. First, you have to take care of getting rid of the ladies’ man persona. People aren’t going to focus on all the change you want to bring about and your mission for world peace if they can’t see past your hot bachelor image. Fix that, and then we can work on the rest.”

Michael nodded and grimaced, simultaneously grateful for the curse and blessing of his beautiful looks. “I know. I’m fixing it. Let’s hope that happens tonight.”  Almost as if on cue, the car pulled up to a massive old brownstone in Brooklyn and the chauffeur opened his door for him. He stepped out and skipped up the steps to the refurbished old wooden and glass door at the top. He rang the bell and waited.

A few long moments later, the door opened and Michael smiled at the woman standing before him. She was small in stature and had generous curves where women liked curves. Her eyes were so dark that they were almost black, her long black hair was pulled up in a twist high on her head, and her caramel colored skin shone with a golden hue in the afternoon sun.

“Hi, baby,” she said, her ruby red lips spreading in a wide grin, showing her bright white smile. “You’re a few minutes early.”

He looked her over from head to toe, taking in the hot pink dress that clung to her, and the vivid flower she had tucked into her hair. “Well, Isabella, even if I gave you more time, I don’t think you could look any better than you do right now. Wow. You are stunning.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly, and then offered her his arm.

She grinned up at him and kissed his cheek in return, and then tucked her hand into his arm and walked with him down the steps to the car. When she climbed in, she saw Glenn and greeted him.

“Hello Glenn, how are you doing today?” She gave him a warm smile and he nodded at her.

“I’m good, Isabella, how are you?” He smiled at her, but in a way that made her wonder if he really did like her or not.

Michael sat down and the door was closed behind him. He looked at Isabella and said, “Well, we are headed for a big night out tonight. You look fantastic, as always. Thank you for coming with me. I’m looking forward to spending this evening with you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly, and then released her hand.

“So where are we going?” she asked curiously, looking at her boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. He winked at her and shook his head.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled and took her hand in his, flashing his dimples at her.

She looked at him, wondering what he was up to. They had started dating three months before, when he had met her at a party that she had catered food to. Isabella was one of the most renowned chefs in all of New York. Her family owned a hugely popular Puerto Rican restaurant called La Cocina Criolla in Brooklyn, not far from her gorgeous old brownstone. She most often cooked there, although she did guest cooking at different fine dining establishments around the state.

She had been speaking with the host of the party and some of the host’s guests when he approached them and introduced himself. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her for most of the night, and as soon as she was alone, he had taken the opportunity to sweep her off into a corner and talk to her as long as they could before they were discovered and pulled back into the mix of people.

She was smitten with him right away, just like so many other women who met him. He had a slightly roguish look about him, as though he may be just a touch unpredictable and dangerous, as though he was his own man and no one was going to tell him how to live and what to do, but then there was also something else about him that made people feel as though he might well be one of the most significant friends they could ever hope to meet, and they knew instinctively that he could be trusted.

She sighed. If he said it was a surprise, then she knew she wasn’t going to get any further information out of him. She was just going to have to wait until she found out what he had waiting for her.

They drove to an airport and in no time, they were taken onto a small airplane and were airborne into the late golden light of day. Michael sipped his drink and tapped his fingers on the glass in his hand. Tonight would be one of the most important nights of his political career and of his life, and he hoped he could see it through to the end. More importantly, he hoped that it would go the way that he needed it to. He looked at Glenn.

Glenn was lying back in his chair snoozing; his mouth partly open, soft snores coming from him. Glenn had come highly recommended to him as his campaign manager when he decided to run for the Senate but he just wasn’t completely sure he could trust the man. He knew that it was just part of the territory with politicians, but he wanted someone to help him who not only knew the ropes in Washington, but also had deep morals and values. He felt certain that that was a combination he might have a hard time finding in a person.

Still, he had hired him and was listening to his advice for the time being, although some of it had thrown him so far off his own personal track that he had begun to question what he was doing, but not enough that he stopped doing it. He knew that if he was to succeed in his bid for the Senate, he would have to play by the rules for the most part and make some sacrifices. He was willing to go partway down Glenn’s road, as long as he could diverge and make a new road when he was able to. He hoped Glenn would still be with him when that happened.

The plane landed and Isabella looked at Michael in surprise. “Wow! That was fast! Where are we?”

He looked at her with a sort of scolding look on his face as if she was slightly naughty but overall his look was not unkind. “Alright. I’ll tell you that much. We’re in Washington D.C.” With that said, he closed his mouth and refused to tell her anything else. They were taken into another limousine and driven to a massive building with marble columns and steps, and ushered inside, where a throng of people was gathered.

There was a great hall that served as a sort of foyer, where some of the guests milled about with cocktails in their hands and gleams in their eyes, greeting each other, shaking hands, laughing and chatting, and then through a massive doorway was a grand room, elegantly appointed and decorated with powerful yet subtle colors and designs.

Glenn was glad-handing nearly everyone he saw, pumping arms and clapping shoulders. He kept whispering into Michael’s ear, nodding at different people and studying the room with a keen eye. Isabella watched him and wondered what it was about him that Michael liked, because she didn’t think much of him herself. She looked around the room and saw clusters of the same type of people everywhere. Mostly white. Mostly older. Mostly drinking. Mostly men with women on their arms. Some of the women looked like wives, and some of them looked as though they had been hired to be with the men that escorted them. She didn’t see many people who were young and happy to be together like she and Michael were. The realization pinched at her a bit.