Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Jax
Preston and I strolled into the office at 10:00 a.m. on the second Monday in May after getting in late the night before from Rhode Island.
“Jaqueline! Preston! My office. Now,” the senator bellowed as we were greeting Laurel.
“What’s eating him?” I whispered to her, wondering if we could get a hint of what we were walking into.
“That was practically a guided invitation,” Laurel whispered back. “He didn’t even swear.”
“True.” I followed Preston down the hallway into Senator Marsden’s office.
“Shut the door,” he said when we were both in the room.
“What’s going on, sir?” Preston asked, sliding into the chair next to me. Normally, I would have locked that away to make fun of him later, but the look on the senator’s face had me thinking there wasn’t much fun in my future.
“I got a heads up on an article running on The Dispatch’s front page tomorrow. I thought you both would want to see it.”
He handed two pieces of paper to Preston, who swore softly at whatever he saw. He looked over at me, his face pained.
“Give me the paper, Preston,” I said, my tone firm. He handed it over reluctantly, his eyes on my face before going back to reading.
“Senator Marsden (RI) allows pornography author to run comms?” More vile bullshit followed, bringing in bathroom bills, women’s rights, and other typical talking points of the paper’s political leaning followed. But there, in plain, printed words, linked Jacqueline Carter to June Kennedy, my pen name.
Even worse, it linked Jacqueline Carter as the fiancée of Preston Brandt, seen engaging in “inappropriate” PDA at a congressional staffer’s softball game. My eyes flicked to the byline on the article. No surprise here. Peggy Rappencourt had finally gotten one over on me. I wished I could say I regretted tangling with her, but I vehemently disagreed with her stances and her methods, like this.
“Well, fuck,” I said.
“Well put,” Mitchell said, folding his hands on the desk. “I already tried everything in my power to get the story killed. They’re refusing. We only got a heads up on the article because I provided one of their interns with resources when his parents kicked him out of the house after they caught him with his boyfriend. The fucker has the wrong political beliefs, but I couldn’t let him freeze.”
I stared in wonder at my boss, realizing I never really knew what would come out of his mouth or go through his head.
“Okay, so, what now?” Preston said.
“Obviously, I quit and we break up,” I said, staring at the words on the page until they blurred in front of my eyes, not wanting to look at either man in the room.
“Jax.” I jumped as the senator used my nickname for the first time. “My campaign can weather this storm. It’s a chance for me to talk about female empowerment, not judging sex workers, how the other side catastrophizes everything. We may take a small hit, but ultimately, it’ll all even out. Certain people will eat this shit up. We may even gain a romance reader vote or two.”
Preston laughed thinly, but I wasn’t smiling. My eyes were only on Senator Marsden.
“And Preston?” I asked, reading the answer in his eyes already.
The senator glanced at Preston briefly, then returned his attention to me. “I have a reputation for being an asshole and taking no punches. I’m an incumbent senator with a solid lead in the polls. Preston is neither an asshole nor is he an incumbent anything. He will always have a place as my Chief of Staff for as long as he wants it.”
I nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying. We couldn’t predict exactly how this news would impact Preston’s future career, but the chance it would be negative was real.
Unfortunately, Preston also read between the lines.
“I haven’t even announced anything yet. We could see how things go. If it is a big storm, then I stay on here for a while. We both do. The House elects every two years. What’s another 730 days?”
I threw my hands in the air, turning my body toward his. “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. You’re getting noticed. There’s buzz around you running next election. You’d be stupid to waste it because of me.”
“What if I don’t think we’re stupid,” he said quietly, looking at his hands before turning his face toward mine. I saw in the depths of his eyes how much he believed in us, in me. I felt the world around me tunneling into a focal point on Preston’s face. A roaring sounded in my ears. I couldn’t be the reason he risked his dream, a dream instilled in him by his mom. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t .
“All right, this no longer seems like any of my concern. Jacqueline, I’m happy to have you stay, but I know you’ll make your own decision.”
Preston and I continued to look at each other, neither of us moving.
“Seriously. Get the fuck out.”
We both jolted into motion, standing and heading to the door.
I turned back as Preston exited before me, and I saw something a lot like sympathy in Senator Marsden’s eyes, before his asshole mask fell firmly back into place.
In the least surprising move of all time, Preston followed me to my desk. “We need to talk about this. I need to know you’re not going to do something rash.”
I hummed noncommittally. “I really can’t talk about this right now. Can we get through the day and plan to reconvene at home tonight?” My gut roiled in revolt at my use of the word home. I knew it would appease Preston’s anxieties for now and give me time to do exactly what he feared I would.
“After the softball game, right?”
I thunked my head on my desk in my mind. Fucking softball. “After the softball game.”
He walked up to my desk and leaned over, giving me a soft kiss. “We’re going to figure this out, babe. I promise.”
Knocking on the top of my desk, he offered me another smile and went back to his own space.
“Sometimes there just isn’t anything to figure out,” I muttered. I turned on my computer, and got down to my new to-do list for the day, which had nothing to do with communications management for a senator’s office.
Preston and the senator left for some engagement or another. I couldn’t be bothered to check beyond me knowing it would have them out of the office for the rest of the afternoon. I gathered my stuff, walking out into the outer office with purpose, hoping I could fake it and sneak out unquestioned.
“Where are you going? You don’t have any meetings this afternoon, and you have softball later. Are you okay?”
Damn those shared calendars and making friends with your coworkers. I turned to face Laurel.
“I’m great. I just forgot my tennis shoes at the apartment for this afternoon, so I’m going to run home and grab them.”
“Your shoes are right there. I can see them bulging in the bottom of your bag.” Laurel narrowed her eyes at me.
“Yes, but these are my dry weather tennis shoes. It looks like it might rain, so I need to go get my shoes that can get muddy.” Not bad for talking out of my ass. Like I had more than one pair of tennis shoes meant for exercising.
“I didn’t know it was supposed to rain.” Laurel turned her attention to her computer, presumably to check the weather since there were no windows in this part of the office. I took my opportunity and slipped out the door, hearing her “Hey!” as I shut the door behind me.
Much in the way I arrived at Preston’s, I left—my belongings in boxes and bags on a luggage cart. Life wasn’t quite cruel enough to match me with the same ride share driver, and I helped the woman load everything into her SUV.
“Headed to Adams Morgan?” the driver asked.
“Yup,” I responded, pulling out my phone to let Michelle know I was on my way and would be at her doorstep shortly.
Thirty minutes later, muddling through early rush hour traffic, I pulled up to Michelle’s building. She met us at the street, and the ride share driver accepted an extra twenty dollars cash in tip to help us load everything on the elevator just inside the entryway.
“So,” Michelle said, as she wiped sweat from her brow, putting the last of my boxes in her second bedroom. “Did you know before I decided to become a meteorologist, I was studying psychology?”
I looked at her for a beat. “No, you weren’t.”
She had the decency to look slightly chagrined. “Okay, no, I wasn’t. But I’m an excellent listener. And the payment for harboring you in what feels like a slightly fugitive situation is the truth about what the fuck is happening.”
I couldn’t deny that was fair. “Okay, but I’m going to need some tacos and margaritas and confirmation you have a second bathroom because no matter the quality of Mexican food, it rarely agrees with me.”
Michelle sprang into action. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I’m covering for the early morning meteorologist this week, so no margs for me, but the place next door does to go. Their food’s shit on weekdays. The weekend chef is much better, so we’ll get food from District Taco. Here, pick what you want.”
It was nice for someone else to take charge of my life for a few moments, even though I knew the consequences of my actions would come raining down on me sooner rather than later. I checked the time, noting the game should be starting soon, and Preston would realize I wasn’t going to show.
I couldn’t let him risk everything because of me, or worse, resent me in a few years when he looked back and realized what his life could have been. Tears trickled out of my eyes when I realized I pictured a life with Preston years down the line. All that was about to be wiped out because I liked to write dirty scenes in books about love and a humongous grudge from an awful woman.
I shook my head, wiping my tears. The actions of others wouldn’t dictate how I felt about my books. I loved writing. She and everyone who agreed with her were the ones who were wrong.
My inhale was a bit shaky and louder than I meant it to be, causing Michelle to look up in alarm. “Okay, I’m adding an extra order of chips and queso. We are about to get into it.”
I laughed, laying back on her couch, hugging a pillow to my stomach. Learning to open myself up to Preston allowed me to make true friends for the first time in my adult life. Never did I think I would be this grateful to have somewhere to turn. If I couldn’t have Preston, at least I wasn’t completely alone.