His Climb to Power Page 8

  Rachel nodded. Then, a mischievous smile washed over her face, and she turned to Carl, one hand on her hip. “That sounds like a job for my assistant.”

  Carl’s face went from grumpy to shocked. “What?” he growled.

  “Be a dear, won’t you, and get us some coffees?” Rachel sashayed over to Carl and leaned over to give him a gentle pat on the head. “He is the best assistant,” she said to Riley with a confiding tone. “Would you believe he can type a hundred words per minute?”

  Riley raised an eyebrow at this information, but he didn’t seem suspicious. Rachel making fun of Carl wasn’t helping to hide his true profession, but I had to admit it was kind of fun. Unfortunately, I also knew Carl wouldn’t be happy about leaving me with a strange man in my office.

  Taking pity on him, I retrieved my wallet from the end of the desk and took out a twenty. “You can just grab the coffee from the place across the street,” I said. “It’s so close, you can yell up the stairs if you forget our orders like last time.”

  “Blythe…” Carl said, a warning tone in his voice.

  “No, don’t try to talk,” I said. “I promise. We’ll be right here when you get back.”

  Rachel snorted next to me, still amused by the entire situation. She turned it into another daintier cough and clapped Carl on the shoulder. “Thanks, hon.”

  Shooting me one last accusatory glance, Rachel’s new “assistant” headed out on his coffee run.

  11 Jack

  Several days had passed, and I couldn’t keep Blythe from my mind. I ached to see her smile or pull at her hair in frustration. I wanted to skim my fingers down her skin and kiss her until all of her fears were washed away by happiness and desire.

  But mostly, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that something was wrong.

  She was keeping something from me. The other night with her had been great, but it felt like she’d been holding something back. Frustrated, I leaned back in my office chair and closed my eyes. I didn’t need to be focusing on Blythe or the problems that might not actually be problems.

  Klaus had found several points that I could use to support Handan, the biggest being his support for the clean energy bill for the industries in Florida. It had been a surprise to everyone when he went against the wishes of the lobbyists, and I wondered if maybe Handan could be turned around.

  I couldn’t risk waiting around the find out. We’d get him out just as soon as we could.

  My statement supporting Handan had already gone out, and I could feel the backlash already. My voters were surprised and unhappy. I was already trying to figure out how I was going to apologize for this.

  To his credit, Handan had been a good man when he’d first stepped a foot into politics. I’d followed his career, wondering if he was going to be a major source of competition for me, but then he started drinking and sleeping around, and his career started sliding off the rails. He stayed the course, though, and I’d always figured it was because he had someone supporting him.

  Now, it was clear that he did.

  Blythe hadn’t said anything last night, but she didn’t follow politics. After hearing her parents—staunch Republicans—get so heated over politics, she thought it had been safer to stay out of it. At least it was one person I wasn’t disappointing.

  Or maybe I was disappointing her. After all, there seemed to be something she was keeping from me.

  “Darling, is this a bad time?”

  I looked up sharply to see a stunningly beautiful woman striding towards me. With striking green eyes and long honey blonde hair that flowed over her shoulders and down her back, she was definitely a looker. Combine that with the miles of creamy legs beneath a short but tasteful red skirt that matched her full red lips and the perky breasts with cleavage that peaked out of her polka-dotted shirt, and I was momentarily stunned.

  Who was this creature, and why did she call me darling? “I’m so sorry. Did we have an appointment?”

  With a twinkle of laughter, she closed the door and made herself right at home in the chair in front of my desk. “No, but I won’t be needing an appointment. I’m Lila Turner. I’ve been hired by Clarke Mason.”

  A seed of unease settled in my chest. “Hired to do what, exactly?”

  “Nothing untoward. Don’t worry. We’re going to make a few appearances in public. Have dinner together. Just something for the public to take notice.”

  It was so ridiculous that it took me a few minutes to actually understand what she was trying to say, and then I was leaning for the phone. Holding a finger out to her, I dialed Clarke’s number.

  “Jack! I thought you might be calling me. I assume you’ve met Lila. She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  Meeting her cool green eyes, I noted the smirk on her face. “That’s exactly why I’m calling,” I said as I leaned back and studied her. “My scandal already involves one hooker. I really don’t need to involve another.”

  With a gasp, she sat up straight, but Clarke just chuckled over the phone. “She’s not a hooker, Congressman, and even if she were, trust me. I wouldn’t be able to afford her for you. Lila is a stand-in. Think of her as an actress if you’d like. She’s a pro at naturally insinuating herself into your life and making people around you think that she’s always been there.”

  “Why do I want people to think that?”

  “You want the media to stop focusing on Blythe and forget all about that breakup? A new woman is great at that. On the books, Lila will appear as an ambassador for an environmental group, which is perfect for your current agenda. You’ll have a few public meetings and make the world wonder if she’s going to be your future wife.” Clarke paused. “Now then, what you do with her during your own time is completely your business.”

  Jesus Christ. My stomach turned. How the hell was I going to explain this to Blythe? “And when this is all over with, I’m expected to do what with her?”

  “Well, since you two aren’t in a relationship, she can go back home, and you never have to think about her again,” Clarke said happily. “It’s a win-win situation.”

  I did want the media, and a group of killers, to forget about Blythe, but I didn’t want to introduce another woman into the mix. What if I was putting her life in danger as well? I couldn’t very well explain to Clarke why it was a bad idea. “I would have felt better about this if you had discussed it with me first.”

  “You have to trust me, Jack. I know what I’m doing. Now that I have you on the phone, I need to talk to you about this statement your office released. Handan? Really? You’re going to support him?”

  Immediately, I gritted my teeth. I’d completely forgotten about Clarke when I’d made the arrangements for the press release. Thinking fast, I gave him the same pile of PR garbage I was giving the public. “Handan’s made some mistakes in the past, but I think that he just needs a push in the right direction. He’s stopped drinking, and he’s married now and devoted to his family. Besides, we share some of the same interests,” I said, keeping my reasons vague.

  “All right. I can work with that. In the meantime, no more press releases until you talk to me first. This has been a little jarring. Now, play nice with Lila.” He hung up, and I slowly lowered the phone and stared at her.

  “Should I apologize for the hooker crack?”

  She practically beamed at me. “Yes, if only so I can tell you that I understand.”

  Unable to help myself, I smiled. The woman did have my attention, and that meant she’d have everyone else’s attention as well. “I apologize for assuming you were a hooker.”

  “As I said, I understand. I hadn’t realized that Clarke hadn’t told you about his little plan. I don’t play this role often. Obviously, if I pop on the arm of too many of his clients, the world will get suspicious, but this was a role I was eager to take on. If it helps, I like you. I like your politics. I like your vision for Miami. I liked that you publicly played the hero for the damsel in distress, and I’m sorry that didn’t work out f
or you. If you were in my district, I would have voted for you.”

  “That does help,” I agreed. “So, what do you actually do for Clarke?”

  “Actually, I usually just help run his office. He takes jobs from all over the country, so I usually man the office, but sometimes I play small roles to gather information.”

  That was like Sherry, but I didn’t voice that out loud. She was being honest with me, and I could appreciate that. “I will tell you now that I don’t want you getting too familiar with your role. As much as Clarke thinks this will help, I’m not entirely sure it will. Speculation is fine, but I’m not going to be holding your hand or giving you kisses.”

  She arched one perfect eyebrow and crossed her legs. “No, you most certainly will not. I’m not the kind of woman who can be touched or kissed without permission.”

  Hell, I did like that attitude. “Where do we go from here?”

  “I’m going to give you my business card.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled one out and handed it to me. “Very professional like. And then I’m going to demand some attention from you to bring my cause to the table, and you are going to schedule a business lunch sometime this week. A patio outside some nice place that gets a lot of traffic is key, and don’t worry about eavesdroppers, Congressman. I plan on talking business the whole time.”

  I hated the idea. It stunk of manipulation, which was the tactic that the other side was using. I wanted to win over my voters because they felt that they could believe in me again. I didn’t want to do it with a beauty on my arm and whispered rumors about what we might be doing behind closed doors. Not to mention that it would probably hurt Blythe to see someone else on my arm, even if she fully realized that it wasn’t real.

  But I had to trust the professional.

  Standing, she extended her hand. “Thank you for your time, Congressman. My phone number is on the card, and I look forward to your call.”

  She was incredibly smooth and poised. If my father found out about her, he’d be trying to make sure that I made this relationship more permanent.

  “I’ll be sure to call,” I murmured as I stood and shook her hand. Escorting her to the door, I held it open for her and watched her sashay out.

  It didn’t surprise me to see David in my office as soon as she was out of sight. “Who the hell is that?” he growled with what still looked like a dazed expression on his face. “I think I’m in love, and you can’t claim her for yourself because you were just in love.”

  “She’s an employee of Clarke Mason’s, and she’s posing as my next love interest to take the heat off Blythe.” As if Blythe was that unforgettable.

  Instantly, his smile dropped. “Jesus, are you serious? Please tell me that you sent her packing.”

  “I did not. If it works, then that is a good thing. If it doesn’t work, then I will send her packing.”

  When he turned to look at me, his face was inscrutable. “I feel like there’s something going on here that you’re not telling me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, even as the guilt clawed at me.

  “Bullshit. In all the years I’ve known you, you would have never done something like this unless you had a damn good reason. I just can’t figure out what the hell your reasoning would be. You have to know that this will kill Blythe if she sees it.”

  “I’m going to call and explain to her that it’s just a publicity stunt,” I said quietly.

  “Hell, Jack, I know you’re going to want Blythe back when all is said and done, but if you’re not careful, she might not be around when you’re ready for her. I hope you’re considering that while you’re planning all of these publicity stunts.”

  Even without him knowing that Blythe and I were still trying to make things work, he had a point. Lila might just be one step too many for Blythe to handle.

  Dismissing David from my office, I pulled out my phone and stared at it. It had been days since I heard her voice, and it was killing me. Unable to take it anymore, I dialed her number and held the phone up to my ear.

  It went to her voicemail, and I closed my eyes. “Hey, it’s me,” I said lamely. What the hell was I supposed to say to her? “I know things have been crazy lately, but I just wanted you to know that I missed you. I’ll have some time this weekend to see you. Let me know if that works out for your schedule. God, I miss you, baby.”

  There were still a million things that I wanted to say to her, but they weren’t things that could be left on the voicemail, so I hung up and hoped that she would call me back soon.

  Nothing meant more to me than Blythe, but work was a close second, so I tried to focus on that while the seconds ticked away and felt like hours.

  12 Blythe

  “Yes, I hear that. Scandal can be good for business,” I said even as I winced. Gripping the phone in my hand, I tried to tune out the curious stares from Rachel, Riley, and Carl. This was my last phone call of the day, and it could land us our biggest contributor of the dozens of calls we’d made.

  Janice Roberts was the wayward daughter of a billionaire in South Carolina, but she didn’t like to be close to her daddy, just daddy’s money, so she spent most of her time at the beachside in Florida. Her favorite things to do, other than catching the golden rays of the sun, was having her name in the papers. A little thing like being connected to a previously suspected murderer would mean nothing to her.

  “As I was saying, we’re looking for support for the arts center, and I hear that you’re a wonderful singer.”

  “How much do you want?” Janice interrupted in a bored tone.

  “That would be completely up to you, although if you didn’t want to donate money and wanted to donate your time instead…”

  The twenty-three-year-old snorted. “Cute, but I know you want money. I’ll have my accountant send over a check. In the meantime, I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

  She did? I didn’t even realize that Janice knew who I was. “Sure.”

  “Is Congressman Drayson as hard under all those clothes as he appears? I bet he’s a good fuck, isn’t he? All that pent-up frustration from his job just waiting to let loose.” She moaned, and I winced. How the hell was I supposed to be diplomatic and answer that?

  “Um…”

  Instead of waiting for an answer, she just laughed. “Never mind. It’s probably better if I just stick to my fantasies. My accountant will email you once we finalize the details. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a party that I need to get to.”

  She hung up before I could thank her, and I held my breath and lowered the phone to the receiver. “She said that she’d call her accountant and send us a check.”

  The room cheered, and I pumped my fist as I grinned at the newcomer. Riley quickly became a fixture at our little office above the Sunglass Hut. I had been afraid he was all talk, but he was immediately helpful. Our sad, highlighted list of donors had been transferred to a large notepad set up on a stand so that we could all see the names. Riley was helping us figure out a personalized plan of attack to recoup as many donations as possible.

  “These people are sheep,” he explained. “One of them gets scared, they all run. If we can get a few of them back as the leaders, the flock will follow.”

  Riley’s energy was infectious. I normally hated calling donors, even when things were going well. Now, I was talking to them on the phone like they were my best friends, swallowing back my distaste at dealing with people who would cut and run from helping children in need because of a supposed scandal that had nothing to do with them.

  It was too late to make any more phone calls, so instead, we were strategizing about the people Riley thought we should approach in person. It was his way of putting pressure on some of the more difficult cases. Find a way to discuss the center in public, hopefully with a newly committed donor nearby to judge their friends if they stayed firm on their abandonment of the arts center.

  “We have an artist involved who I think might be
willing to help us out,” I said, thinking of Quincy. He had already known about the scandal, been caught up in it, in fact, when he had suggested he might be willing to help with the charity. Privately, I thought that it might do him some good. He’d been in love with Sherry, in a relationship with her that had nothing to do with blackmail or money, and I think he was suffering under the truth of her side business and her death. Helping out with the charity might help him with his grief.

  “That might work on Delia Hornby,” said Riley thoughtfully. “She fancies herself both a patron and a muse. Maybe we can get her to commission something for the center.”

  “Delia Hornby?” I asked, pushing aside the container of take-out Pad Thai and looking over the papers on my desk and the list displayed on the stand. “Why don’t I know that name?”

  “She’s not a donor,” Riley said. “Yet. Does anyone want the last spring roll?”

  Rachel yawned and shook her head. I waved a hand to indicate Riley could have it. Carl had his eyes closed and didn’t answer, although I doubted he was sleeping.

  Riley shrugged and swallowed the last spring roll in one bite. It had been his idea to order from the Thai place. I’d never heard of it despite my love of food, and it was the best Thai take-out I’d had in my life. Riley had picked up the food and covered the bill, but I had a sneaking suspicion that tiny, melt-in-your-mouth spring roll cost more on its own than my entire usual order from Thai Me Up Miami.

  Rachel yawned again and then stood up and stretched. “I need to sleep,” she announced. Rachel was a great co-worker and friend, but once she decided she was tired, there was no talking her out of it. In fact, just the thought of sleep made me realize I was exhausted too. Convincing some of our donors to come back had made me feel better, but I still wasn’t confident we could save the project. Every muscle in my body was tense, and I ached from sitting cramped up in the office all day.