Page 23 of The Bodyguard Affair
I have to stop myself from flopping out of my chair entirely.
With Gretchen’s support, Bethany switches her tune. “The media has no tangible proof that you wrote it, aside from speculation regarding the initials and the fact that the author also lives in Ottawa, according to their biography.”
“How do we make the headlines go away?” Gretchen asks Bethany, as though she’s a genie in a bottle who can make all of this disappear in a puff of smoke.
“We cannot, under any circumstances, allow the public to believe the story has any validity, especially months before the election. So as of now, our stance is to do nothing aside from feed the news positive stories about Eric and Gretchen. Other than that, we ride it out and hope it goes away. Luckily, these headlines haven’t made it to mainstream news outlets. We think Eric responding to the rumors will only bring more attention to them.”
“Right,” I say. That’s one thing I’ll never understand about world leaders. You have to portray this outdated, picture-perfect family image in order to have any clout with voters. A solid family unit exudes the image of stability and relatability.
“We need everyone to believe Eric and Gretchen’s marriage is strong,” Bethany continues, biting her tongue when she realizes how that sounded. She glances at Gretchen sympathetically. “Not that it isn’t strong. I just mean—”
Gretchen puts her palm up. “It’s fine.”
“So that means, ideally, Andi and Eric should not be spotted publicly together, even with you present,” Bethany says to Gretchen.
“But wait, what about Squamish? That’s tomorrow,” I point out.
“I don’t think it would be wise of you to join any upcoming travel. But—” she continues, pausing to look at Gretchen.
“I insisted. I said I’m not going anywhere unless I can bring you. You not coming would look more suspicious, in my opinion. If nothing is going on, why wouldn’t I bring you?” Gretchen says firmly, her gaze meeting mine hopefully. “You’ll still come, right?”
“Of course,” I say dutifully. In a weird way, it feels kind of nice to be needed, even though it would be better if I didn’t go. “Listen, I’m sorry about all of this.”
Gretchen gives me wide eyes. “Why? It’s not your fault some weirdo snapped pictures of you guys. I bet the opposition did it on purpose. I bet they even wrote the book themselves to stir shit up. They knew where we were weak and thought they’d exploit it,” she says cynically. Based on the shifty look on her face, she’s already strategizing.
After a couple minutes of Gretchen and Bethany trading conspiracy theories while I nearly expire in my chair, Gretchen dismisses us.
Bethany springs up from her seat, grateful to leave, but not before telling me, “The Close Protection Unit is going to give the book a read to make sure there’s nothing of concern. They might ask you some questions, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
Normally I’d stick around to make sure Gretchen doesn’t need anything. But today, I bolt out of her office and down a quiet corridor. I steady myself against the wall, hands on knees, practically gasping for breath.
And then it hits me. Nolan.
He was the only other person at the restaurant last night. He’s also the only person who knows about my writing. Did he leak the photos and the book to the media?
He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would do that. In fact, if I were a betting woman, I’d have guessed he’d be the last person to expose me. What would he have to gain?
At the same time, how odd is it that days after he’s hired, I get doxed? It’s too big a coincidence to ignore.
Chapter 9
Nolan
“You’ve all probably heard the rumors about this book by now.” Ivan brandishes a brand-new paperback withThe Prime Minister & Mescrawled across it in fancy lettering. The exact same title Andi told me her next book would be called.
She actually published her book. She fucking did it; at least it appears so. Technically, it could be a coincidence. But if it was her, pride swells inside me, even though I barely know her.
“Um, what are these rumors?” I ask, leaning in to get a better view of the book. Truthfully, there was a lot of whispering going on today. But I purposefully try not to eavesdrop. People’s personal business is not my concern, and I have enough of my own shit to deal with.
“Gretchen Nichols’s PA, Andi Zeigler, is the author,” Mike says through a snort, propping his forearms on the table.
“Rumoredauthor,” Ivan corrects.
Rowland lets out a hearty laugh. “The PA?”
“The book was published two years ago, along with two other books. And the initials and location of the author match,” Ivan clarifies.
“Okay, but there are one million people who live in Ottawa. Probably a good number with those same initials. Doesn’t mean it’s her,” Ben points out from the end of the long table.
