Page 63 of Where There's Smoke

“This is what you’ve dreamed of all your life,”she’d said with that glowing smile.“Don’t you dare pass up this opportunity.”And with a flippant shrug, she’d added,“It’s only a few months. Maybe a year if we don’t divorce right away after the election. Jesse, honey, it’ll be fine, and it’ll be worth it in the end.”

And now here we were.

In spite of stress and my guilty conscience, I eventually fell asleep, and I dreamed about the campaign, sex with Anthony, getting caught having sex with Anthony, and having sex with him anyway, even if it fucked my campaign all to hell. In one dream, I panicked so badly I woke in a cold sweat, certain we really had gotten caught fucking on a hotel balcony in front of hundreds of cameras. After another, I was so beyond giving a shit about anything, especially facing reams of tabloids with their damning photos, I woke with dull apathy still pressing down on my shoulders.

By the time the sun came up, I was still exhausted from last night and doubly tired from dreaming about it. Guilt still chewed the edges of my conscience, but with that delicious soreness in my legs and hips, I couldn’t help indulging in a damned good mood.

I got up, swam in my own pool for once, and showered, and as I dried off, I glanced in the mirror. A couple of shadowy marks on my hip brought a grin to my lips. I always had been one to bruise easily, and with someone like Anthony, I supposed it was inevitable. He could be gentle, but my God, when he wanted to, he could let loose and be so, so deliciously rough. If I’d known during my college years just how amazing it would be to let another man top me, I’d have said to hell with discretion and control and all of that nonsense.In exchange for an orgasm like that—like all the ones he’d given me—political suicide just didn’t seem like such a big deal.

Goose bumps prickled along the length of my spine, following the path his lips had taken during a slow interlude while we’d caught our breath last night. This morning? Sometime before I’d come home, anyway.

Before I came home at oh dark thirty and hoped to God I didn’t wake my wife.

At that, I groaned, and my good mood threatened to fade. I swallowed the rising guilt, though, and reminded myself I hadn’t broken any rules. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, Simone had to know where I’d gone last night, and I couldn’t imagine she was thrilled about it.

Whether or not she was happy about last night, she certainly made a good show of being cheerful when I walked into the kitchen.

She looked up from pouring cream into her coffee and smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

“Coffee?”

“God, yes.”

She snickered. “Tired, are we?”

I eyed her as I reached into the cabinet for a mug. “A little.”

The knowing grin on her face twisted my gut into knots, but I needed some caffeine before I even tried to broach the subject.

As I poured my coffee, Simone said, “By the way, you’ll be pleased to know that after you and Anthony left, I had alovelyevening with your family. Especially Chris and Julie.” She emphasized my sister-in-law’s name with a note of disgust.

I grimaced. “Sorry.”

With an exaggerated scowl, she said, “You owe mesobig.”

“Name your price.”

“How about a free pass to get out of the Cameron family dinner engagement of my choosing?”

I laughed and cradled my coffee cup between both hands, waiting for it to cool enough to drink. “Hey, if you get a pass like that, I want one too.”

“They’re your family,” she said with a shrug. “You’re stuck with them. I’m not. Daughter-in-law’s privilege.”

“Where was that in the rule book?”

“Page thirty-seven, section three, under the section marked ‘how a girl can stay sane when she’s married into a fucked-up family like this.’”

I chuckled.

“So what’s on your agenda today?” she asked.

“Same shit, different day.” I tested the sides of my coffee cup to see if it had cooled at all. “I can’t even keep track of what’s going on most of the time. I just go where Anthony and Ranya tell me to.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” She sipped her coffee. “I don’t know how you keep up with those two. They send me or my assistant a calendar, and I about have heart failure.”

“At least they both understand things like physics and travel time,” I said. “Roger’s campaign manager before Anthony, oh my God.” I rolled my eyes. “He’d line Roger up for appearances in San Diego and San Jose in the same afternoon, and expect him in Sacramento for a dinner.”

---