by Beth Fred
“Why did I do what? And how did you get in?”
“I called a locksmith and told him I was locked out. Why did you do any of it? Disappear on me? Show up in Clarissa’s office? Refuse my calls? Refuse your dad’s calls?”
Eric’s phone rings. “It’s 3:00 a.m. What do you want?” He’s quiet for a minute. “It’s a small blog. Just ignore it. It’s not like the cable stations are airing it. If we go on the record to deny it at this point, it will seem like I’m guilty.” He’s quiet again. “Evan, I said ignore it unless a cable station picks it up. I’ll worry about it then. I’ve got too much to worry about right now. And my wife is okay. Thanks for asking.” There is another moment of silence. “Go to hell.”
He puts his phone back in his pocket.
My stomach sinks. They’ve seen the blog. Then I remember staring into a more perfect version of my face, a thinner more perfect version of myself, and for a second I’m glad Kristin published it.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Huffington Post is saying some blogger claims to be you, our marriage is a sham, I’m still in love with my ex-girlfriend, and I’ve accepted bribe money from Baltimore’s radical cleric Al-Gazali.”
I bite my lip. “Our marriage is a contract, and you are still in love with your ex.” And you did accept money from Al-Gazali, but I don’t let on I know it.
“What did you say?”
“Our marriage is a contract.”
“After that?”
“You’re in love with your ex.”
His jaw clenches. “All of this—you disappear, don’t take my calls, don’t take your dad’s calls, because you think I have feelings for Clarissa? I spent campaign resources trying to find you. I was worried, Amanda.”
“If you’re in love with your ex, why would I take your calls?”
“Because I pay you very well to act like a wife.”
Of course. You pay me very well to fill Clarissa’s place. “Get out.”
He takes his phone out of his pocket and throws it at me. “Call your dad and tell him you’re alive.”
“Get out of my house. And why did you bring my dad into this?”
“I didn’t. He called me when he couldn’t get you. He asked where you were and why you weren’t picking up. My innocent little wife got caught up in this fast life and was MIA. I felt horrible. I was honest. And you know damn well I don’t care about Clarissa.”
“You don’t think you do. You don’t want to. Ask yourself out of a room full of women, many of whom would have been willing to negotiate less money, why you chose me?”
“Because when you smiled, my heart leaped. And you’re not afraid to tell me when I’m wrong. You have a good heart and you’re smart, or at least I thought you were.”
“Did you call me stupid?”
“You’re dumb enough to think I love a woman who killed my kid and lack the common sense to pick up a damn phone when you’re off without security detail, so before this conversation, I wouldn’t have thought so. But maybe. Now call your dad.”
I pick up Eric’s phone and dial my dad’s number. Voicemail. “Hi, Daddy, this is Mandy. Eric said you’re worried. I’m okay, though.” I turn it off and hand the phone back to Eric.
“Voicemail?”
I nod.
“He’s on a plane.”
“What?”
“He said he was coming to find you. He wants you to stay at the farm until the election is over.”
“What?”
Eric shrugged. “He thinks you’re safe there, and it’s not like I need a woman who doesn’t trust me on the campaign trail with me anyway.”
“I’m fired?”
“You can’t be. I can’t afford that kind of scandal right now.”
I jump up from the couch. “This is bullshit. You were replacing your ex-girlfriend with me, and then you get pissed when I call you on it. I’m the bad guy?”
He stands. “It’s not like I’m your first boyfriend.” He laughs. “Or was ever your boyfriend, for that matter. What’s your problem?”
“I didn’t enter this contract because you reminded me of someone else.”
“Sweetheart, if you reminded me remotely of Clarissa, I would have had Evan escort you out before you had a chance to talk to me. And if you argued with him, I would have paid you to stay the hell away from me.”
“Please leave.”
“Of course, I’m not sure the contract stipulated our sleeping arrangements. I will leave you. Goodnight.” He heads for the door, but his phone goes off before he gets there. He picks it up, glances at the screen, scoffs, then turns to me. “And now I know why you’re so worried that you remind me of Clarissa. You’re just like her. Turns out the blogger who says my marriage is a sham would know. And while I’m not in love with my law school girlfriend, she made it look like it. But where in the hell did you get the shit about me taking money from Al-Gazali?”
“A fifty thousand dollar campaign contribution from an anonymous donor. The check was signed by Al-Gazali, and it was drawn off a personal account.”
Eric walks out the door, slamming it behind him.
Chapter 43
Eric
“I told you this was stupid when you suggested it. Now what?”
“You’re going to get some rest at your father-in-law’s farm,” Evan says.
“No. I don’t want anything to do with that girl.”
“You have to make this look like a lover’s spat. I’ve done some research. It’s apparently common knowledge that newlyweds fight a lot. Play it off. Meanwhile, I’ll contact Al-Gazali and start working on the finance angle. You don’t have anything to hide there, so as long as he cooperates, that will blow over. You go to your father-in-law’s farm after a fight, and it will make everyone think you’re a well-connected family.”
“Whatever.”
***
I stand on the front porch of a sprawling house in the middle of nowhere Arkansas and wonder what the protocol is for greeting the father of your estranged contracted wife. Camille opens the door, tucks a caramel curl behind her ear, and says, “What are you doing here?”
Jack comes up behind her. “I’ve got it, Camille. They told me he was coming.”
She turns to Jack. “I have been answering this door for lots of years. I don’t need your help.” She turns back to me. “Stay away from my daughter, or we’ll finally settle if I’m a better shot than my husband.” She walks away.
“She married me to climb a ladder at the cost of my career, and I have people threatening me?”
“She married you for cash to pay her tuition. And she made that clear. What are you going to do about it?”
I scoff. “Are you asking if I’ll try to get out of the prenup?”
“I took a huge risk endorsing you because I knew it was all I could do for my daughter. So what are you going to do?”
I shake my head. “I have no intention of trying to get out of the prenup. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of, but I don’t want to see her more than necessary.”
“What did you do to her?”
I’m about to ask what he’s talking about when Mandy walks up behind her dad. “What are you talking about?” She looks to her dad. “What do you mean endorsing Martinez was the only thing you could do for me?” Then she turns to me. “What are you doing here? I’m sure Clarissa has a spare room.”
Jack’s gaze moves from his daughter to me. “You didn’t tell her?”
“You asked me not to,” I say.
“Tell me what?” Mandy asks.
“Hell, I like you more than I thought. Come in.” Jack finally moves out of the doorway.
I keep my eyes on my wife as I walk through the door, but she keeps her head down, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Nothing.”
“Tell me what?” Mandy asks.
“Nothing, Amanda. Be quiet,” her dad says.
“So you’re in on some scandal together. Awesome. Somehow I wonder how I tolerate
either of you.”
“Hey, I didn’t hurt you.” But when she finally meets my gaze, her face is red and puffy. Her eyes are swollen. I step toward her, forgetting everything that has happened, only knowing I will annihilate whoever hurt her. “You’ve been crying.”
She crosses her arms. “Yeah. ’Cause you didn’t hurt me. Now what are you doing here?”
“Evan sent me here,” I say.
She bites her lip. “Right. It would have to be about Evan and this stupid election.”
“Oh? Are you holding on to some notion that I would chase you across the country after what you did?”
She shrugs. “What about what you did?”
“What did I do?”
“You know.”
“Mandy, we talked about that. I thought you understood. If you destroy our entire future over that, you’re immature.”
“What future? You’re twenty points down in the polls, and as soon as you lose this election, I’m done with you.”
“Amanda,” her father scorns.
“No, let her talk. So you did this to get back at me? Or you did it to get rid of me? You could have at least talked to me. Let me explain.”
“Let you explain your terroristic campaign contributions?”
“You don’t think I’m a terrorist. And this was never about campaign contributions. You’re upset about something, and you’re hiding behind a political blog. But what you did can’t be undone. When that post went live, I didn’t just lose an election. I lost all trust in my wife.”
Chapter 44
Mandy
I turn and walk away from Eric, making a mental note to send Evan a bomb for shipping me his candidate. Eric is so annoying I can’t even tell him that I never published the post. Kristin did. But I turn around before I make it to the stairs. I march up to him and say, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“What?”
“You’re only here because Evan sent you. It’s not a good enough reason to be here. This is my house. I think you should leave.”
“Amanda—” my dad starts.
I glare at him. “Don’t.” I look back to Eric. “You really should leave. You’re not welcome here. I’m sure we can help you find accommodations at a nice hotel.”
He stares down at me for a second. “You hate me that much?”
“It’s not about hate. You’re here to score points, and I don’t have anything against you.” I’m too mad to even lie. “Okay, I don’t actually like you. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Mandy, go to your room,” Daddy says.
“You know I’m grown, right?”
“Yes. I also know the last time I checked, I owned this house, and you’re being very rude to my guest. To your room. Now. Or I can have someone take you into the city to get a hotel.”
“Dad, you suck.”
He points toward the staircase. “Go.”
“I’ll go to the hotel.”
“What?” Dad asks, shocked.
“No, you’re not,” Eric says.
“Awesome. Now I have two dictators. Eric, you want to tell me why I’m not going to a hotel?”
“Everyone in this area knows you’re a senator’s daughter. You’re the wife of a billionaire. For you to walk around alone at some hotel is like asking to be kidnapped. And I’ve lived through twenty-four hours not knowing where you were.”
Dad stares at me. “So have I.”
I ignore Dad. “Why do you care? You’re only here because Evan sent you.”
“Don’t play with me, Mandy Martinez. You know why I care.”
“Don’t call me Martinez. It’ll be Buchanan again soon enough.”
I head for the stairs. This time, I make it to my room.
Chapter 45
Eric
Mandy walks out of the room without another word.
Jack turns toward the living room and motions for me to follow. “Son, I appreciate you keeping your mouth shut,” Jack says. “But what did you do to my daughter?”
“What did I do to her? I didn’t do anything to her. She used me, and she’s never even denied it.”
He sits down in his armchair. “It’s on her blog. Why would she deny it?”
It seems like I’m going to be here for a while, so I sit on the couch across from him. “You’ve known she was Sarah Moore all this time? Why have you never said anything? You know she broke your scandal last year, right?”
“I’ve never said anything because the truth would kill her. And I don’t need the time I have left marked with fear, worry, and regret. But what did you do to her?”
I roll my eyes. “Nothing. I’ve told you.”
“No one knew where she was for a day. No one. Then she came here. She never comes here. She doesn’t even like me. She’ll tell you that. She’s stayed in her room since she got here. So one more time. What did you do to my daughter? Son, if you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll take you out back and feed you to the hogs. This time tomorrow, you’ll be gone, and there won’t be evidence. And I’m pretty sure your wife will keep your assets,” he says.
“I have no idea what I did. She left to go see my ex-girlfriend.”
Buchanan stares me in the eye. “You love her.”
“This was a business transaction. You know that.”
“It wasn’t a question, son. My daughter is high maintenance and temperamental. She’s not the kind of girl a man chains himself to for business reasons, and I love my daughter. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, so I suggest you figure out what you did, apologize profusely, and buy a sparkling gift.”
“But—”
“Let me tell you what my father-in-law told me right after I married Camille. It doesn’t matter what you think you did or how right you are. You just say I’m sorry and move on. You don’t tell a woman she’s wrong. Ever.”
“But she is wrong.”
“Right, so you tell me that. You tell that moron Evan you have working for you. Any man you see at a sports bar. You don’t tell her. That’s the secret to a happy marriage.”
“A fake happy marriage. I want to be able to talk to her.”
“Most happy marriages work because there is no talking.”
That is not what I want.
“One more thing, son. I’m aware this was a business transaction. She doesn’t know that I know. It’s probably best for you not to let on you told me. You’ll be buying another diamond.”
Chapter 46
Mandy
At 6:00 a.m., my cell rings. “Uh, hell-o,” I stammer.
“He loves you. And why didn’t you tell me how hot the campaign manager is? That boy is like freakin’ salted chocolate caramel candy,” Kristin says.
“Who? Evan?”
“Whatever you call him. He just said he was Eric’s campaign manager and that they had been friends since college. He said that Eric is in love with you, but after what you—and I know it was really me—did, he would never admit it. He actually says you’re the only girl Eric has cared about since Clarissa.”
“Whatever. He just wants me to campaign for the jackass.”
“I don’t know. He says Eric is torn up over this. He asked me if you care about Eric or if this really was only for tuition.”
“You realize it’s 6:00 a.m.?”
“I know. But he just left. And I figure if I get woken up to deal with your man drama, you can get woken up to deal with your man drama.”
I laugh. “He’s not my man. He’s my ticket to unlimited blogworthy dirt and free tuition.”
She’s quiet for a minute. “Mandy, you usually don’t fly across the country to track down a sugar daddy’s ex-girlfriend then go into a crying frenzy because she looks like you.”
Damn. Way to make me own it. “I know. But it’s a whole lot easier to blow off a sugar daddy than face the fact that the only woman your husband cared about since his last girlfriend happens to closely resemble her, only not as smart.”
“Don’t do that. You know you’re smart. Wit
h everything you’ve done this semester, I couldn’t have maintained your GPA.”
“She’s not a basket-weaver.”
“Okay, that’s not intelligence. You could have gone to law school too, if you were interested.”
But there is something Kristin doesn’t know. Something my dad doesn’t know. And there is something about the humiliation of a marriage of convenience to pay for school and then finding out I was only selected for the contract because the jerk still has a thing for his ex that lets me admit it. “Not true. I bombed the LSAT.”
“What do you mean you bombed the LSAT? You took the LSAT?”
“Yeah. I mean, I wanted to do an MFA in journalism, but my dad already referred to my degree as basket weaving, and he said he would pay for law or medical school but not another art degree. So my senior year, I took the LSAT, and I scored 147, which means I missed like most of the test. I tried to get a job, and when I couldn’t land something in journalism, I started the blog.”
“I don’t care. I think if you wanted to go to law school, you would have aced that stupid test. I’ve seen you. You can do anything you want. I know that. But you better decide if you want Eric before it’s too late.”
“You would really encourage me to fall for a guy who is trying to replace his ex?”
“Mr. Salted Caramel Chocolate seemed to think it was more than that. He kept saying you’re all Eric talks about, and if anyone on the campaign trail has ever attempted to criticize you, he has gone ballistic. Eric also fired a staffer for some bogus reason and later told Evan he didn’t like the way he undressed you with his eyes.”
I laugh. “That does not sound like my logical, straight-laced husband at all.” The words are out before I realize I’ve referred to him as my husband again.
“Campaign dude says Eric is very protective of you.”
“Kristin, go back to bed.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”