Page 135 of Catfish

Two hours later, it’s published on her blog under Scandal Tuesdays in Mayor Montgomery’s Office.

Thirty minutes after, the Connecticut Current has Breaking News on its website with a blurred-out version of Holden thrusting into a body bent over the couch in his office.

And about fifteen minutes into my victory, Holden Montgomery is calling my cell phone.

“Good afternoon, Mayor,” I greet cheerily, kicking my feet onto my desk.

“Don’t think that I don’t know this is you,” Holden sneers on the other line.

“I’m sorry?”

“That article, the one that just got—” He stops as a loud voice calls for him in the background. “Hold on!”

There’s a loud rustle in the phone before I hear him again

“Governor,” he continues. “I will end you and your little dream.”

“Mayor, you’re going to have to be more specific on what you are accusing me of,” I counter, knowing that this could be on a recorded line.

Shit, I wouldn’t put it past him because it’s the oldest damn play in the book.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” he yells. “This only confirms what you did at my anniversary party. The Misses hasn’t left the house in weeks.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. That was such a tragic—”

“You’re not sorry. You’re trying to destroy me.”

“And why would I do that?”

Silence follows my question, which hints that he did record this call or someone is near him that doesn’t know.

Either way, he’s fucked.

He'll have to resign, make a public statement. His wife will divorce him, and he'll never be anything ever again in this town. The moment it's known that he stole from Bridgeport's treasury and spent it fucking and gambling, he might just end up in jail.

I should suggest he find a good lawyer because that’d be the nice thing to do, but I don’t have any sympathy for Holden Montgomery.

“This isn’t over,” the mayor falters through a shaky breath. “You won’t walk away from this—”

“You’re not going to threaten me, Mayor,” I interject. “Whatever it is you did, is your responsibility. And you calling me is unprofessional, and this accusing matter is really disappointing. We've done many—"

“Stop the bullshit,” he fumes. “Just stop. I was going to pay back the—”

I don’t listen to the rest of his words—they're lies.

“You’re wasting my time,” I disclose collectedly. “And I’m done listening to you. Good luck, Mayor.” Then I hang up the phone. Holden is the least of my fucking worries right now, and his idle threats are just that.

My biggest challenge is keeping Reagan the hell away from me, so I don't lose control. When I'm Chase, I can be whomever I want to be with her.

It’s safe.

But Wade Lockwood, I can never let myself seep into temptation, no matter how powerful it is. No matter how many skin-tight dresses she wears or how she hits me with such ferocity with her eyes, though most of the time it’s filled with animosity and annoyance.

I changed things between us—I had to. The charity event was too much. It was too perfect. Her and I casually hanging out, sharing a hamburger—it was nice. I'm torn between being grateful that she tricked me into going and wishing that she hadn't because it was one of the most ordinary days of my life.

One perfect day with her where I wasn't attached to my career—sort of.

I was still governor. She was still her.

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