Page 21 of Tied

Chris

After pounding on the door until it cracked wide open, the steam still flies off me in thick tendrils. Yeah, I didn’t do my due diligence when it came to a man and a big cock in New York.

I guess I followed one rule of Carli’s—glove and love. Cock in a sock. On that I did good. Thinking what this can do to my career, to my life, and to my own personal bubble, I fucking failed. I should’ve been smarter. All I can do is wait for the entertainment shows, newsfeeds and C-SPAN laughing at my ass.

“Well, shit. I might as well turn on the news to hear of my impending resignation.” Not that I think sexual preference should be a reason to oust someone, but I have the feeling that the right-winged politics of Indiana will induce my political death by ‘internet stoning’.

I’m not expecting sleep tonight, at least not after that. I expect to have a pair of New York officers in my room, politely asking me to accompany them to the station within the hour. “No use in wallowing. Maybe I can help myself,” I mutter as I close the blinds. Grabbing up clean clothes and showering quickly, I decide a better course of action than curling up to die is to devise a plan.

Dialing the front desk, I ask to be connected to the room of another governor, and I’m happy when he picks up on the third ring. Going over the particulars, he offers me some sound advice. Once we're done, I ring the front desk.

“Just one moment, sir. I’ll get him on the phone for you,” the lady on the other end informs me.

As I wait an exorbitant amount of time, I finally hear, “Troy Mason. How are you this fine morning, Mr. Rock?”

Explaining the circumstances of my situation, his tone quickly changes in understanding the gravity of my situation. “Well, I’ll let you know as soon as I can get you an answer. Hold tight.” Before hanging up, he says, “And Governor? I’ll let you know as soon as the boys in blue arrive. Please be presentable.”

Hanging up, I blow out a heavy sigh of insanity, not relief, because I sure as shit don’t have that. I sit in the armchair watching the morning sky as it crests the buildings.

Do I need Carli?

Yep.

Should I call her?

Nope.

Crap. I need to call Elaine. She needs to be prepared for the fallout. Dialing her number, the voicemail catches with her sweet, “Leave a message at the beep.”

“Elaine, something’s happened and you need to know.” Explaining as much as I can in a short message, I tell her to prepare. To be honest, she’ll probably be relieved. She can go live her life without hiding me anymore. Not that I didn’t tell her over and over to do what she wanted, but she was dutiful because of her own values and needs. Elaine as a best friend loved me immensely. I was there when she needed someone to care for her and her daughter, and I think she felt she owed me.

With my phone in my lap, sitting in the silence of the room, I watch the hues of the sun as they hit the metal and glass of the buildings. I think of how beautiful it is. In war, I never saw the beauty, only the destruction. In politics, you’re too busy to see the beauty, moving around too fast to comprehend any of it. And in life, I’ve sucked at seeing the little things that surround me.

As my hotel phone rings, pulling me from my musings, I look at the local number. “Hello?”

“What did I tell you!”

“Thank you for calling me.”

“Chris…and I’m calling you Chris instead of idiot…Chris, you fucked up. You royally fucked up.” She pauses for a moment. “I sure as hell hope he was a good fuck.”

Before I can answer, Julia continues. “No. I don’t want to know that. Just do me a favor and shut the door. Don’t open it unless it’s the police, and even if it is, let them know your lawyer is on the way.”

“Thank you, Julia.”

“Don’t thank me yet, big man. I’ve yet to save your ass from the fire. Politics aside, I’ll do what I can. Hold tight. I’m coming.”

Hanging up, sardonically to the vacant room, I chirp, “That was my line.”

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