Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
It was an incident that had fractured the family. He still didn’t speak to her. From what I understood, though, his wife was still very close with her daughter. She probably silently agreed with her daughter’s stance. But also liked the fact that her husband kept his Senate seat, because it meant he was busy most of the time, and left her the hell alone.
“Regardless, this isn’t about Aaron per se. I think it is just time we sat down and had a heart-to-heart about anything else you might want to tell me,” I said, closing my tablet, and placing my hands on it, folded over each other, looking welcoming.
“You want to know if I have any more dirty laundry.”
“We all do, Senator,” I said, shrugging.
“Yeah? What kind of dirty laundry do you have, Beth?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure if he was actually being slimy, or if I was just taking it that way because I was tired and the headache was definitely taking a turn toward a migraine, judging by the way the sound of a phone ringing in the next office had me wincing.
“We’re not talking about me,” I said, lifting my chin, making my voice a little firmer. “I’m not running for a public office,” I reminded him.
“As unfortunate as it is, your private life is for public consumption. I need to know if there is anything else you have not told me yet. As you know, we are only a few months away from the election. This is the time when your political rivals will pull a card out of their sleeves to play. When there’s not enough time for me to fix it.”
He nodded at that, knowing how true it was. There were many times over the years he watched friends of his lose their seats because of random scandals.
“You know about Aaron. And my mistress…”
“I do,” I agreed, nodding, keeping my face impassive. You’ll find no judgment here. Even if I totally judged as much as the next person. If not more. Because someone on the inside saw all of the ugly things that no one else got to witness.
“Senator, I can’t protect you if I don’t know,” I told him, leaning forward again, using the little tips and tricks I learned in a psych class I took once, wanting to put him at ease.
“Well,” he said, making a steeple with his hands in this incredibly pretentious way I kept trying to tell him to stop doing.
Hope swelled, and I discreetly made sure my phone was recording. “I have sort of gotten myself involved with some—“ he started, but was cut off by a loud knock on the office door, making both of us jolt.
“What?” the senator barked.
The door opened, and one of the staffers was holding up a phone.
“It’s for you,” she said, looking sheepish. “Amber,” she said, making me close my eyes as I tapped off the recording app.
Damnit.
He was so close to saying it.
To ending this once and for all.
I could go to the cops.
They could… do whatever they needed to do.
And I could collect unemployment while I got a steady gig going for myself again.
All to have it thwarted by his very needy mistress.
“We’ll put a pin in this,” the senator said to me, tone pointed. Time for you to go.
I walked out of his office and into mine, grabbing some painkillers out of my drawer, and downing them with a fresh coffee one of the interns had brought me.
Then I sat in my office, just rubbing my temples as I tried to figure out if it would be possible to go back into his office later to talk to him.
That question was answered no more than ten minutes later, though, when Michael rushed past my office and into the elevator.
Off to see Amber, I was sure.
“Hey, Elizabeth, do you need anything else from me?” one of the staffers asked, popping her head in my door. She already looked like she’d done her makeup to head somewhere fun. Who the hell was I to stop her? We were standing on a sinking ship here. I might as well start cutting their hours.
“No, actually, can you tell everyone for me that it’s time to head out? Let’s call it an early night. We’ve been burning the candle at both ends,” I said, reaching for my phone to order a ride-share. I was going to power down my office, then walk out with the crowd.
There was safety in numbers.
And I still wasn’t convinced that someone wasn’t going to try to shoot me again.
“Another migraine?” she asked, wincing as she looked at me.
“It’s starting,” I agreed, powering off my computer, then making neat piles of my paperwork as she made her rounds.
Finally, as the crowd moved down the hall, I grabbed my purse and joined them, pushing myself into the center of them all, feeling a bit like a coward as the guilt swirled for putting them at risk.