Omar

My reelection was supposed to be a formality. My staff was behind me, the town adored me, and I had a great track record. It was all going well until a photographer snapped that picture of me. 

It was not how it looked. Yes, she was on her knees. Yes, I was tugging my pants up. But it wasn’t what it looked like.
The fact that I’d thought about that exact situation with that exact woman didn’t mean anything. Natalie clearly did not feel the same way, and she was not afraid to tell me so. 

Natalie

Could the interim Mayor be any more of a pain in my backside? I mean, sure, he’s sort of my boss, and he protected me when that photographer took that picture of us. But why does he need regular updates? And why in the hell does he get approval over anything? 

He might be the mayor, but he was not in charge of my project. Someone had to tell him exactly what he could do with his stubborn, overbearing, demanding— 

He kissed me! In the middle of a meeting. I was telling him where to shove his recommendations and ended up shoving my tongue down his throat instead. 

Was it wrong that I found fighting with him as much fun as making up?