Page 120 of Where There's Smoke

Eventually they closed, and I leaned against the wall. I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger as the conversation replayed over and over in my head. I needed a smoke. I needed to smoke the whole pack. Maybe two. I didn’t even care if I started chain-smoking; I just needed way too much nicotine.

The elevator dumped me out on the bottom floor, and I hurried out of the hotel and into the parking lot. My mouth was dry as I numbly dug my cigarettes and lighter out of my pockets, and when I tried to light the cigarette, my hands shook. Flicking my lighter, a smooth motion I’d perfected years ago, took three tries, and the third was barely successful. I took a drag, held it, then released it into the cool evening air.

I’d seen and heard it all in politics, but this? From a man I respected, and at the expense of Jesse and especially Simone? Withmyhelp?

I cringed, guilt burning hotter in my chest than the smoke in my throat.

Simone was an innocent in all of this. She’d bent over backward to help this campaign, and I wouldn’t have her jeopardizing her health for the benefit of the election again. If Roger got to gloat about Simone’s ill health improving Jesse’s standings in the polls, so be it. He could take that up with God. I would not allow this election to harm her any further than it already had, and I had no doubt Jesse would agree.

And he’d also want to kick Roger off the campaign. Keep the bastard as far from Simone and everyone else as possible. Keep him away from me so I didn’t choke him.

But we couldn’t. Voters may not have given two shits if Roger endorsed his nephew, but if he suddenly didn’t endorse him or was suddenly absent from the campaign trail, they would notice.

I suppose we could cite his health problems.I tapped my cigarette and watched a couple of glowing coals swirl their way to the pavement.Hell, maybe that would gain us another sympathy lead. Imagine how much the polls would jump if the man fucking croaked.

No, we were stuck with Roger. I’d just keep a tight leash on him and advise Jesse to take campaign advice from me and me alone.

Just like he had from the beginning. When I’d agreed with Roger and kept Simone out on the campaign trail. Kept her in the spotlight, in the public eye, until she’d collapsed.

I exhaled sharply.

Anyone sabotaged my candidate’s campaign, there was hell to pay. That was a given. I worked too fucking hard for someone to kill a candidate’s chances before the election. But that wasn’t what had me worked up now. I was torn between going back to the room where I’d left Roger and ripping him a new one or saying to hell with public images and going up to Jesse’s room. The professional fury was tepid irritation compared to the deeper, hotter rage burning in my chest. The fierce need to protect Jesse. Not theneed to defend my candidate and keep my work from going down the toilet, the need to protecthim. Jesse. My lover.

And with that fury came more deep, caustic guilt. I hadn’t caught on to Roger’s MO, and unwittingly or not, I’d been a part of this. All of it. From the beginning. I was as cutthroat as any campaign manager, but not when people actually got hurt.

I dropped my half-smoked cigarette to the pavement and crushed it under my shoe. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Jesse’s number. For a long moment, I just stared at his name, my thumb hovering over the Send button. I wasn’t even sure what I needed to say or why I was suddenly so desperate to talk to him, but I was. My mind was such a scattered mess of anger and guilt, I couldn’t think straight. All I could think was that I needed to talk to him. See him.Something.

I hit Send.

And waited.

Chapter 24

Jesse

My cell phonebuzzed on the table beside me, and I almost jumped out of my skin. God, now what? Was there no downtime that couldn’t be interrupted?

Scowling, I picked up my phone, but my heart fluttered when Anthony’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” He paused. “Listen, um…”

Something twisted in my gut. “Something wrong?”

“Not really.” Another pause. “I mean, no. Nothing’s wrong.” A long, tense pause. “I… Would now be a bad time to, I guess, meet somewhere?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he whispered. “I can…I’ll…” He paused for a few nerve-racking seconds. When was Anthony ever at a loss for words like this? Finally he said, “Another hotel. Somewhere other than here.”

I shivered. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted if it needed to happen in a different hotel than the one we were already in, but something in his voice unsettled me. “Tell me where,” I said quietly. “I’ll meet you.”

“All right. I’ll text you when I find a place.”

After we hung up, I chewed the inside of my cheek and absently tapped my silent phone on my knee. My gaze drifted toward Simone’s luggage, which was stacked neatly beside mine, and I stared at it like it was an effigy of her. She was out for the evening with some friends in town. Any other night, I’d have called Anthony back and said we ought to hold off. Wait until we were somewhere without Simone so she didn’t have to suspect anything.

But as our brief conversation echoed in my head, along with that odd undercurrent in his voice and that uncharacteristic difficulty figuring out what to say, I couldn’t justify bailing on him. Not now. Not even if it meant all but announcing to Simone that I was leaving to do what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t throw in her face.

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