Jonathan Brond Interview Part Two

“Congressman?” Clarisse held out the tray filled with cream cheese and salmon on triangle toasts.
He waved it off and sipped his mimosa. She noticed the waitress brought the drink without him having to order it. The thought he’d been here before—had drink preferences well known by the primarily female staff—stirred something in her belly. Just ask the questions, she reminded herself.
“Like I said, we know so little about you,” she said.
“We?”
“Well, Google doesn’t seem to know you’re alive except for your speeches, your congressional profile and your congressional web site. Why is that? Usually when someone is so hard to find they have something they’re trying hard to hide.” She took another sip of tea. “But, you are dating. A blond, I think?”
Clarisse caught the small twitch in his jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes. Bull’s eye. She didn’t know where she got the balls to say it out loud, but she wasn’t about to walk away from this interview with nothing but perfectly polished, politician bullshit.
He set his glass down and picked a piece of lint off his pants. “I date the American people.”
“You’ve never been married.”
“No.”
“Engaged?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been in love, Congressman?”
“Perhaps. But, it’d be asking a lot from someone to return that sentiment.”
“To love you?”
“To have them to put up with the scrutiny that comes from being with a public figure.”
“Is that why you have a set time limit for your relationships?”
“Who said I had a limit?”
“Google images. So many pictures of you with women.”
He smiled. “And, here I thought all you found were my speeches.”
“What’s the longest any woman has ever lasted with you?”
“Counting would be rude. Besides, like I said, being the girlfriend, or wife, of a member of Congress is a tough job.”
“You haven’t always been a member of Congress.”
“No.”
“But that’s where you’ve always been headed, right?”
“That’s been the plan.”
“And now?”
The tension in his jaw returned.
She paused when he didn’t answer. “You did say I could ask you anything.”
“I did answer. It just wasn’t the answer you wanted.”
She shifted in her chair and tried not to show what she was trying to do: shift her damp thong.  She cleared her throat. “How do your work associates perceive you?”
“I hope they see I’m an asset to the party. I am deeply committed to making a difference. There. Your cliché for the day.”
Jesus, that smile alone must have bought him Ohio in the primaries. She swallowed. “How about your family? How do they see you?”
“I hope the same as my work associates. As an asset.”
The coldness of that statement hit her in the chest. “Strange way to call yourself.”
“Really?”
“Yes, an ‘asset.’”
“Not in my family.” He casually sipped his drink.
“Your father was instrumental in your election.”
“Was he?”
She could tell he fought with a smile that threatened to take hold of his face.  “Well, who are you closest to in your family?”
“Sarah. She was a terrific big sister. She taught me a lot.”
“Like what?”
His smile was worthy of a panther ready to strike.  “Life skills.”
She darted her eyes to the left to a group of elderly women admiring a silver tea stand. She wanted to see if they might overhear. “How important is sex in your life?”
He didn’t flinch at the abrupt change in subject. “How important is it to you?”
Heat washed her from her head to toe.
“Just what I thought,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He shifted in his seat and beckoned her to pitch forward, as if he was going to impart a secret.
“What are you doing for the rest of the day, Clarisse Walker?”

Read more about Jonathan’s escapades in ELITE.