Conservative Affairs Part 3

Before Jo could answer, Jacquelyn, the communications director, burst into the break room, looking as though she might break into tears. "I need to talk to you right now!"

"Which one of us?" Gabe calmly asked, placing a steadying hand on Jacquelyn's shoulder.

"You," she pointed to Gabe, then glanced in Jo's direction. "You too, I suppose."

Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder. "But not here. We need to step out of the office for a few."

They made a hasty exit, although it was not apparent to Jo where they were headed. Jacquelyn's face was ashen and she seemed to be holding her breath. Jo couldn't imagine what could have shaken her so badly. She was always so poised, professional and in control of situations.

"Here. Get in here." Jacquelyn pointed at her SUV.

Without questioning, Gabe and Jo climbed into the vehicle. Jacquelyn locked the doors, and if the air hadn't been so tense, Jo would have laughed at the gesture.

"What's going on?" Gabe and Jo asked simultaneously.

"I just got a call from Channel 15 news," Jacquelyn's hands shook as she spit out the words. "They want a comment from Stratton about her husband. They want to know why he was out to lunch with a woman and why he had taken the same woman to a hotel room two nights ago. They are breaking the story tonight at five. I don't know what to tell them-because I can't just walk into Stratton's office and break the news to her that her husband is a cheating son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Gabe looked as if he had been punched in the gut. Jo figured that was a normal response. But it was so unlike the response she was experiencing. For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt red-hot anger and a fierce need to protect Madeline from feeling the pain that was coming. To kick John Stratton's sorry a.s.s, hold Madeline in her arms and wipe away her tears.

She had to get it together. Try as she might, though, she couldn't see any easy answer to this situation. And that had nothing to do with being new to the staff. Looking at Gabe and Jacquelyn, she saw that, despite the wealth of political experience between the two of them, they not only didn't have a clue how to proceed, but were also deeply reluctant to be the bearer of the bad tidings.

Jacquelyn tried to call Ian, the mayor's chief of staff for the fifth time, slamming down her phone in exasperation when she was sent to voice mail again.

"Our fearless leader picked one h.e.l.l of a time to disappear off the face of the earth," she said, her words coming out as a frustrated hiss.

Gabe's eyebrows shot up. He reached out to touch Jacquelyn's shoulder, then quickly pulled it back, realizing how bad an idea that would be under the circ.u.mstances. She looked like a rattlesnake, ready to strike.

"It's not like he could plan it." He looked at his watch. "He's likely in the middle of the funeral service now and has his phone turned off. He's due back tomorrow and I'm sure he'll phone us as soon as he's able." Jacquelyn narrowed her eyes at him but shook her head, as if pus.h.i.+ng the anger to its rightful recipient instead of unleas.h.i.+ng it on Gabe and Ian.

"What do we do until then?"

Jo's mind raced, and she wanted to close her eyes and wish the whole thing away. How could anyone break the news to Stratton?

Sure, Madeline was a b.i.t.c.h some days. She was intense and a little severe at times, but there was a softness in her eyes and she had a good sense of humor. And, as Jo had seen at breakfast, she was human. Jo knew that if this had happened to her-if she ever gave someone the chance to hold her heart and she betrayed her like this-she would be devastated. And, of course, she'd probably want to rip the messenger's head clean off.

As she glanced from face to face in front of her, it was clear from Gabe's furrowed brow that he had too many questions to be a supportive partic.i.p.ant in the discussion Madeline might need. One look at Jacquelyn's pursed lips signaled to Jo that she was, as always, considering her career above all else.

Her heart raced as she considered what she was about to do. Jo sighed, knowing she shouldn't get involved but also knowing that there was no way she could walk away. "I'll tell her."

The puzzlement on Jacquelyn's face was evident, as was her abject relief.

"Are you sure?" she asked, unable to stifle the sigh of relief that escaped her lips. Jo saw the tension drain from her body and a brightness return to her eyes.

It was clear that she was happy to see Jo take the fall, should there be one.

Drawing another long breath, Jo nodded her head, even though her hands trembled in her lap. She wasn't sure, really, but somehow it felt like the right thing to do.

"Jo? We can tell her if you'd rather." Gabe's shaky voice offered her a way out, but his mousy expression seemed to beg her not to take him up on the offer.

"No. I've got it," Jo insisted. "I'll even draft the statement. I can have it to you before five," she said, offering Jacquelyn a professional explanation for her actions, and got out of the car.

Before she could close the door, Gabe stuck his head out. "Thank you, Jo," he said, offering her a smile that didn't quite hide his frazzled expression. "I know this is a big thing to take on, but we're happy to have you on the team."

Pursing her lips to keep from letting out a half-amused laugh, she shook her head, shut the door and walked away.

It's no wonder Gabe was so alone in the world, she thought. He was a good person, but weak. If he couldn't muster the backbone necessary to step up in a situation like this, there was no way he could be seen as loyal to anyone.

Chapter Five.

Could you pinpoint the moments your world changed forever? Madeline believed you could. For her, there were a number of such moments, happy ones that left her heart soaring as well as devastating ones that had left her feeling as though everything she knew and loved was being picked up by an Oklahoma twister and spun around in the sky until it plummeted back into the earth at breakneck speed.

Take the moment she was elected mayor. Although that had been a happy life change, something she had worked hard for, it had left her with the feeling that nothing would ever be the same again. She had been correct. It had turned everything upside down, thrusting her headfirst into a world filled with trade-offs, games, cameras and public scrutiny.

That life-changing moment had led to the others too. The moment John told her he didn't love her anymore. The moment he announced he would be sleeping in a separate bedroom. The moment she realized for the first time that he wouldn't be coming home for the night.

That day had been like any other. They hadn't spoken until she got home from work. Then they had fought. He threw a bottle of wine across the room and walked out the front door. He had done all these things before. And, as she had each night when he left before, she had left the outside light on for when he drunkenly stumbled home and then had laid in bed as usual, waiting to hear the sound of the front door open and slam before allowing herself to fall asleep. That night, though, the door had never opened. Finally, at 3:15 a.m., she forced herself to admit that he wasn't coming back. Everything around her felt as if it had turned to quicksand, s.h.i.+fting beneath her and trying to pull her into its depths.

It was a moment she replayed often, evoking it whenever she needed an extra surge of strength to get through a particularly difficult day. If I got through that, she would remind herself, I can get through anything. I can get through this.

As she caught the words falling reluctantly from Jo Carson's mouth, though, she felt as if she just might stop breathing.

Hotel. Affair. News channel. The words repeated in her mind, a vortex leading to the swirling and haunting world of her inner demons.

She had a.s.sumed for months that John was cheating. Without any evidence, though, it had been easy enough to ignore. That was the way she wanted it. She didn't want to think about her husband sleeping with another woman. It was much easier to get through the day pretending that everything would be all right when she got home.

"Do you want to comment on the story, ma'am?"

The compa.s.sion in Jo's voice broke through her distress, finally capturing Madeline's attention. She looked up to tell her to tell the press John was a lying, cheating a.s.shole, but when she opened her mouth, a choked sob came out instead of words.

Jo was by her side immediately, pulling her into an embrace as the tears began to fall. Madeline wanted to be strong, but it was as if someone had opened the floodgates. She leaned into Jo's embrace and quietly sobbed.

Jo continued to repeat, "I'm so sorry," as she stroked Madeline's hair.

Madeline was not big on showing emotion in the first place and crying in public could be disastrous for female politicians. But being here with Jo was oddly comforting. She was thankful that she was the one who had come into her office to tell her the news. She was even more grateful that Jo had had the foresight to lock the door. No one needed to see the mayor bawling like a baby. Not even Jo Carson, she decided.

Sniffling, Madeline did her best to regain her composure. "I apologize, Jo."

"No, don't apologize. I'm here if you need anything."

The sympathy was too much. For reasons she couldn't explain, it triggered another sobbing fit.

As Madeline Stratton sobbed quietly in her arms, Jo felt her own heart breaking. She fought off tears of her own, continuing to stroke Madeline's hair, trying to channel her empathic reaction into an alternative outlet.

What kind of jacka.s.s would crush the heart of such an extraordinary woman? Would walk out on someone so beautiful, someone whose blue eyes held within them both intelligence and sweetness, especially when they were crying? It didn't make sense that someone this incredible should be crying her eyes out, wondering what she had done wrong.

Then again, it didn't make sense that Jo was the one who had rushed to her rescue, who had needed to be there when Madeline got the news. She didn't have an established relations.h.i.+p with the mayor like some of the other staff members did, but a tornado could not have ripped her away from Madeline's side in that moment. If Madeline needed her, she would be there, even if she couldn't explain why.

"Do you want to get out of the office?" Jo asked carefully, deciding that if she were having a breakdown of her own, she wouldn't want to be here.

Madeline nodded her head weakly. When she looked up at Jo, the raw pain in her eyes was enough to make Jo's eyes pool with tears.

"Wait here for a minute. I'm going to shuffle some things on my desk, and I'll drive you."

"I'll be fine," Madeline insisted.

"No. I'm not going to have you driving yourself anywhere right now. Please, just wait a moment."

For a woman who was usually filled with enough fight to take on an army by herself, Madeline's concession came too easily. "Okay," she agreed in a voice barely above a whisper.

Before Jo was out the door, she added, "Please tell the reporters 'no comment.' I don't know what else to say."

Jo nodded, feeling every bit of Madeline's pain as if it were her own.

Quickly she walked to Jacquelyn's office and shut the door behind her.

"Holy s.h.i.+t, you're as white as a ghost. How'd she take it?"

"I'm taking her home and getting her out of here." Jo had to focus harder than normal to make the words come out calm and collected. "Also, her response is 'no comment.' She figured it would be easier that way."

"Okay, are you coming back here after you take her home? I want to know all about it, what she says."

"Have a f.u.c.king heart, Jacquelyn! This is her marriage, not some topic of petty gossip," Jo shot back before opening the door and walking to her desk to grab her things.

Her blood was boiling by the time she got back to Madeline's office, so she took an extra minute outside of the door to calm down. Tensions were running high, and she needed to be the strong, steady one right now. She knocked lightly on the door. "It's me." Entering quickly, she gathered everything Madeline might need if she decided to lose herself in work this evening and then draped Madeline's coat around her body.

Grasping her by the elbow, Jo helped her to her feet. "Let's get you out of here." Then, as if s.h.i.+elding Madeline from flas.h.i.+ng cameras instead of from the curious eyes of her staff, she hurried her out the front door and made a beeline for her little red Camaro. She always loved its sleek look, but she suddenly wished there was more room for Madeline to sit in and be comfortable. She opened the pa.s.senger door and got Madeline settled before jogging around and getting in herself.

Feeling somewhat safer once she was inside, Jo turned to Madeline and managed a smile. "I'm going to need directions to get you home."

Madeline only shook her head.

"Or," Jo offered, "you can just give me the address and I'll type it into my GPS." She pointed to the device mounted on her dashboard.

"No, I can't go home-not yet anyway. If they're not there already, it's soon going to be surrounded by reporters."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

"I want a drink."

Jo considered this. If she were in Madeline's shoes, she'd want a drink too, but where could she take her in early afternoon hours without drawing any attention?

"Do you have a particular destination in mind?" Jo asked.

"Not a bar."

"I figured as much. Let me think."

In the silence, Jo considered her options, which were few and far between. The desperation she felt fueled her next question. "How does my place sound? You can have a few drinks there and relax. We'll play the rest by ear."

Jo knew she was crossing a line by offering her place as a refuge for her boss, a risky move maybe, given that they barely knew each other-and some of what the mayor thought she knew about Jo was totally false. There was nevertheless some contentment in her heart when Madeline agreed.

"That would be nice." Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a slight smile emerged from Madeline's grief-stricken face. "Thank you for this, Jo. I appreciate it."

Jo squeezed her hand and nodded. There was nowhere else she could have imagined being, though ironically, considering she was a speechwriter, she knew she would not have been able in that moment to conjure up the words to express that.

There was just something about Madeline Stratton. Every move, every expression, everything she said mesmerized her. Even when she was in pain, she was captivating. Usually when she brought someone home, she had no more on her mind than getting her into bed.

Not that she couldn't envision doing that with Madeline, but it was different with her. She wanted to know what Madeline was thinking, feeling. Wanted to be there when things were bad as well as good.

She delved deeper into her thoughts as she drove, mentally shaking her head. Wanting to throw Madeline into bed-that was a highly inappropriate thought given the circ.u.mstances. And the fact that Madeline was straight, of course. She would have to be content just being Madeline's friend, something she would have once thought impossible.

Friend? Jo rolled the word around in her mind. Was she Madeline's friend? A week ago, she would have considered herself just a staff member, but something had changed between them over breakfast yesterday. Jo hoped the familiarity between them was blossoming into a friends.h.i.+p. Madeline Stratton was one h.e.l.l of a woman, and Jo would give her left arm to be friends with someone of her caliber, intelligence and wit.

She hoped this visit to her apartment wouldn't ruin those chances. She pictured every nook and cranny in the place. Had she left anything out that would make Madeline view her differently? She didn't think so-she never knew when her mom might pop by, so she was generally careful-but she couldn't be sure. She'd just have to keep her eyes peeled.

The mental inventory did serve to remind her that she was out of beer. h.e.l.l, she didn't even know if Madeline drank beer.

"What would you like to drink?" Jo asked, although she would have laid money on the table that Madeline was a whiskey drinker.

Madeline let out a sad laugh. "Red wine, but only when the cameras are on." She hesitated before adding, "I think I'd like to have some Jameson tonight."

Jo had to stifle the sound of approval rising in the back of her throat. The hot ones always drank whiskey.

"Do you want it straight, or should I get something to mix?" Jo asked, again knowing the answer.

"Straight."

The response was hotter than anything Jo could have imagined coming from the mayor's mouth. An intense desire to kiss Madeline rose up within her. Imagining how poorly the ultraconservative woman would react to that, she fought to keep her raging hormones in check.

She stopped at a liquor store and put the car in park. "I'll be right back."

Fumbling with her wallet, Madeline pulled out a credit card. "Here, use this."

"I've got it." Jo smiled. It was the least she could do, and it would be best to keep the liquor store from knowing that the mayor was stocking up on booze in light of her current public relations challenge.

"Well, take it in case you change your mind."

"No," Jo said firmly. "Do you want anything else?"

"A pack of Camel Menthols?"