Page 95 of Where There's Smoke

Jesse laughed, obviously relieved by the realization Slade hadn’t meant keeping me busy likethat. “Hey, you’re the manager. Seems to me you’re the one keeping me running up and down the state.”

I shrugged. “You wanted to be governor. I’m just making that happen.”

“I believe him,” Slade said to me, gesturing at Jesse. “You are a bit of a slave driver, you know.”

“Uh-huh.” I shot him a playful glare, and he just grinned. I glanced at Jesse. His brow furrowed slightly, eyes darting back and forth between my ex and me, like something about the two of us puzzled him.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway, um, Slade and I are going to go grab a couple of drinks. You’re off the hook for the night.”

The confusion in Jesse’s expression flickered to something…different. Angry? Alarmed? Irritated?

Then I realized what I’d just said and quickly added, “I mean, a night or two of not going over speeches and campaign strategies won’t kill us.” I gestured at the binder I’d given him. “In fact, don’t worry about those for tonight.”

“Oh.” He looked at the binder, then at me and forced a smile. “Well, have a good time. It was nice meeting you, Slade.”

“Pleasure was all mine,” Slade said.

Jesse turned to Ranya. “Ready to go grab something to eat?”

“Please. As if you even need to ask?” Her eyes flicked toward me, and she grinned. “I could seriously go for a nice bloody steak.”

I grimaced. “Have fun with that.”

Slade snickered. “You should see how he reacts if you eat a sausage in front of him.”

Jesse and Ranya both laughed, but I glared at Slade.

“Come on, Jess,” Ranya said. “Let’s go before I start making sausage jokes with double meanings.”

“Double meanings?” Slade said. “Or double end—”

“Let’s go,” I said.

He chuckled and fortunately didn’t finish the joke.

All four of us walked out of the hotel lobby. Outside, they went one way and we went the other. Thank God for that. I didn’t need them overhearing Slade and his adorably juvenile sense of humor, and I still needed that bit of space from Jesse before I lost control and threw myself at him.

Once we were out of earshot, Slade turned to me. “So how long have you been doing him?”

My heart stopped, and I damn near choked on my own breath. “What? What are you talking about?”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Whatever. Come on, you promised me a drink. Let’s go before happy hour’s over.”

We walked to a bar a couple of blocks from the hotel, all the while catching up on small talk.

“So you mentioned the other night you’re seeing someone,” I said. “And that I wouldn’t believe who it was.” I eyed him. “Try me.”

“You’ll never believe it. Not in a million years.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“You ready for this?”

I reached for the door to the bar but didn’t pull it open. “You want me to buy you a drink, you’d best tell me.”

He grinned—gloated, damn him!—and said, “Eric Grove.”

My jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

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