by Alexis Angel
If you’re shaking your head at me, hear me out, okay? Can you really deny the possibility that Michael Anders—who we already know is capable of seducing a man and then blackmailing him about it for the rest of his life, including to force him into giving him his only daughter’s hand in marriage so he can carry on a charade—wouldn’t stoop to the level of setting this whole thing up to blow up in our faces?
I’m sorry to start throwing conspiracy theories out there, but it’s gotta be fucking said. Who’s to say that Michael didn’t just plant a reporter in here to ask Jocelyn the question that got her tripped up? If you’re thinking the election, think about how many pity votes he could come out getting as the husband who’s wife cheated on him. How many women would vote for him based on the fact that they don’t like cheating? And we know he polls not so well with women.
That’s why despite all the planning, I still wanted to be close in case anything like this went down. Because when push comes to shove, I’m going to protect Jocelyn over my stepfather.
“At the end of the day, Michael Ander’s first and true love is public service and holding office,” I say into the microphone. “He’s better suited than his wife. He lives and breathes for something like that. Neither Jocelyn and I are like that.”
The cameras continue to roll and I can tell it’s time to bring it all home.
“Let me be clear and make this final point,” I say in a commanding voice. “I was rescued from my aimless and stagnating ways by this woman standing next to me. It takes a lot of courage to come up here and admit you did something wrong, and she did that with class, grace, and humility. I admit that I did wrong as well. I’ll probably have to atone for my sins one day, but right now, I want to move on with my life and I’m sure she wants the same. There’s nothing nefarious going on in that.”
“Lance,” a female voice shoots out. “Did the estrangement of several years cause you any contributing desire in addition to your attraction for going down this path and potentially torpedoing his campaign?”
She thinks I fucking planned this out?
“I think you give me too much credit,” I quip back sharply. There is a light ruffling of laughter. “All I did was find two unhappy people when I entered their lives.”
I look to Jocelyn and she smiles at me. “Hopefully by the time I leave at least one of those people is happier with me.”
“But you still engaged in an improper affair, did you not?” the reporter follows up. She’s not letting this one go.
I sigh. “Is it cheating if there is no love in the marriage?” I ask.
There’s several murmurs of discussion and the voice replies back. “If there was truly no love, why didn’t your father and Mrs. Anders file for a relatively simple divorce? Why go through the pitfalls of cheating on a spouse?”
Fuck.
Where did that come from?
In my pause, the reporter pounces. “In fact, isn’t it true that the only reason you’re standing here today is because Mrs. Anders got pregnant? That if she hadn’t, you would simply carry on as before.”
Fuck, he’s just backed me into a corner.
Michael made it explicitly clear not to air the dirty laundry, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do now to defend Jocelyn and me. I can’t talk about the specific cases where the marriage looks fucking fake, because it’ll make dad look bad. And he’ll retaliate with enough overkill to steamroll us.
But on the other hand, I can’t talk about knowingly cheating, or helping a woman cheat.
Seriously, this smacks of a Michael Anders setup, doesn’t it?
I look to the right of me and see Jocelyn standing there, placing her complete faith in me.
I just wish I knew what to say.
That's when another voice comes from behind the crowd.
“He didn’t cheat, because the marriage was never proper to begin with,” the voice states with commanding authority.
I can’t see who it is, but I see the people part—similar to how Moses parted the Red Sea.
And out of the corner of my eyes, I see the front row begin to split up in different sides.
And my dad comes walking out.
He turns his back to me and faces the cameras. “Maybe I should say some words now too, give my side of the story.”
Yeah, he’s definitely up to something.
I just wish I knew what.
102
Michael
Well, I guess you never expected to be hearing from me now, did you?
Come on, I figure the least you can give me is a chance to get my side of the story in, if that. This is going to be the one and only time I get a chance to talk to you, and I guarantee you that a few things will happen.
First, you will see why I’m better than those two. Better than Jocelyn—sure she’s pretty, but she’s a child. Doesn’t understand how the world works. Thinks that people are inherently good. This world is a nasty, brutal place. I take what I can and I try to keep you from taking it from me. The whole concept of family or friends that we’ve created is a luxury. At the end of the day, all you have is yourself. And nothing else matters. The murderer sleeps as peacefully as the person he murdered when they’re both dead.
Yes, I’m better than Lance too. Sure, he’s got that body. He’s got a good heart. Bless him, he is a good person, I don’t deny that. He even has the killer instinct. No one else would be able to turn that press conference around if they didn’t. But he could be so much more. Instead he chooses to waste it all by thinking with the wrong head. He falls in love. Love is for suckers.
I’m going to leave you with that for now because I think you’re not being completely receptive to what I have to say. Figures. You probably want Lance and Jocelyn to end up together, don’t you? They’re two stupid human beings and I have no time for anyone who doesn’t understand or see that.
I climb the steps to the podium as Lance looks at me. He’s wondering what I’m up to. Well, he’s about to find out how a real master handles this. I don’t even bother looking at Jocelyn. She’s probably staring at me with those cow-like eyes of hers, wondering what’s going on. Honestly, I can’t believe I had to spend as many months as I did tolerating her. Her constant need for affection. Her constant attitude of needing love. It’s sickening.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say into the microphone, giving the press a wide smile. “You’ve certainly had a roller coaster of a day today, haven’t you?”
There’s isolated pockets of laughter. That’s how you need to do it. Lance and Jocelyn, in their typical fashion, just bungled the whole thing.
But then again, they were never supposed to get this far. Not with those questions I had planted about Jocelyn’s relationship to Lance and about cheating.
That’s right. I planned it. I sabotaged them. I wanted them to fail.
Why?
Just pay attention and find out.
“Everything you’ve heard today has been true. My stepson has carried on a relationship with Jocelyn Carter, and she is pregnant by him,” I say. Cameras flash. I’m used to it and I continue. “I can honestly say that the two of them deserve each other. They’re perfect for each other.”
There are a few people in the crowd who smile. They don’t realize I’m speaking out of contempt.
“But Jocelyn hasn’t cheated on me, folks,” I say to the audience, drawing them in. “And Lance hasn’t betrayed me. And I’ll tell you why I can say that.”
Now they’re hooked. I have them right where I want them.
“It’s because,” I say as I reach into my coat pocket and pull out an envelope. “This marriage was never formally signed off on.”
There are murmurs. Apparently the press is clueless about marriages lasting less than a year in New York State. Let me break it down for them.
“In the State of New York, both parties upon entering a marriage sign a marriage certificate with the magistrate who performs that marriage,” I begin and people begin nodding. �
��I never gave the certificate to Jocelyn to sign.”
Now there’s a hushed whisper going through the group. They’re wondering why I would do something like this and which way this press conference is going.
“That’s because at the time, I wasn’t sure that marrying Jocelyn was the right course of action, folks,” I say to the crowd. “You see, I wasn’t attracted to her, but I wasn’t ready to tell everyone my secret either.”
Even the cameras stop. You could hear a pin drop if you listened hard enough.
“You see, Jocelyn and I never consummated our marriage because there was no way I was attracted to her. No way I was attracted to women in general when men were much more agreeable to me,” I say, bringing a mask of pained resolve to my face. These media sheep are eating this up. I’m going to control the narrative for the next two days if I play this right.
“All my life, I’ve struggled with this double life, being someone who my parents wanted me to be while inside I just wanted to let my true colors shine,” I say into the microphone. “But I’m here today to tell you, to tell the world, that I identify as homosexual. And if you’ll have me, I’d like to be the first openly gay mayor of New York City.”
That does it. Those cameras that were silent? They pop up and begin their flash. I smile in a bittersweet fashion. I practiced it this morning as I got ready for my arrival.
I had thought that I had scared Lance enough to stay away. That by the time I entered, Jocelyn would be floundering and would be looking like a mess. That I’d come in and save the day. And get back at her for all the time she’s wasted of mine in doing this. Couldn’t keep her damn legs closed, could she?
Yes, I was very surprised to see Lance. But I have a feeling I’ve saved him too.
“From this day forward, New York, I promise to be proud and open about who I am with not just my family, but to the entire city as well,” I say, raising my arms. People actually start to clap and cheer. Idiots.
I notice Lance clapping next to me as well and he takes a step closer.
Oh, he wants to play that game, does he?
“I know my secret may have caused a lot of hurt and pain to my immediate family, but I want to take this opportunity to let them know that it was their pain that I saw I was causing that finally prompted me to come out today. There was no way that I could let a good and decent and intelligent woman like Jocelyn Carter continue to believe that she was doing something wrong,” I say into the microphone. “She hasn’t cheated on me technically because she hasn’t broken any marriage vows. All she’s done is fallen in love with a much younger gentleman in my son. And I think after this long on the campaign trail, I can vouch for his character.”
The crowd is eating it up. Now is where I turn to Lance and take a step close to him. I wrap my arms around him and he pulls me close.
He leans into my ear and whispers, “Congratulations, dad, you’ve just admitted to committing fraud by perpetuating a fake marriage.”
I freeze momentarily.
He’s right. But he doesn’t stop there. “And I have enough on you and Kenneth from the last couple of days to throw this election into the fucking shitter for you, just to let you know.”
I don’t know what to say at this point.
“Makes that heartfelt speech of coming out to save your family look like bullshit when they see camera footage of Kenneth fucking you on the staircase,” he finishes and pulls back to give me a broad, beaming smile that the cameras will pick up. They’ll think those were words of encouragement. But they chill my blood.
Maybe this is my son more than I thought.
Is that a bit of pride there I’m feeling for him?
Depends on how he plays it. Let’s see.
As if sensing this, Lance leans in one more time.
“I’m not getting off this podium and I’m releasing all this shit tomorrow unless you publicly take care of Jocelyn right now,” he says. “And don’t worry, I’ve gotten video footage stashed away pretty securely. I knew you’d try to double cross us as we planned this so I was ready to fight back.”
This time when Lance pulls back, I’m smiling.
So, the big oaf is capable of learning something after all. I taught him to think a few steps ahead.
Granted, he’s still playing checkers when this is chess, but at least he’s stood up to me, backed me in a corner, and is getting what he wants from me.
I turn back to the podium.
“I want the world to know that I wish Lance and Jocelyn all the happiness in the world,” I say as I turn to Lance and hand him the envelope with the unsigned marriage certificate. “That’s why I want them to know that I have a private chartered plane to take them anywhere in the world they want to go, as well as an executive position for Lance in Anders Media for when he wants to come back to work for his old man.”
People watching this are literally beaming now. They think I’m a generous old man.
“And Jocelyn, you’ll always be taken care of, dear,” I say, turning to her and giving her my fakest smile. She’s looking at me more in shock. Stupid woman was never a good liar. I can’t imagine how she pulled off this affair for so long. “I want you to be comfortable, so you’ll always have a monthly allowance of money to keep you in the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.”
That last one is going to hurt I can tell and it’s the only one I feel regret for. That’s at least several hundred thousand a month. But the moment I make those promises, I see Lance’s eyes soften, and I know he’s gotten everything he’s wanted.
“New York, I pledge to always be open and honest with you, and if you still want me as your Mayor, please go vote in two days!”
The crowd cheers. I mean the reporters are cheering. This election may just be in the bag because of this little stunt. And my concessions to Lance and Jocelyn – I think that’s what swayed the voters.
I turn towards the two of them on the podium and approach them.
“Are we good?” I ask. No microphone can hear us.
“I never want to see you again,” Jocelyn says with a smile.
“Just take the money and you’ll never have to,” I say back.
“Don’t interfere in our lives, or I will fucking hunt you down,” Lance says, beaming with good cheer.
“I promise,” I say and I mean it. I don’t need to be bogged down by these two. I have my Kenneth. “Feel free to take the jet whenever.”
“We’ll be leaving tonight,” Lance says and hugs me.
Jocelyn tries a smile, but she can’t do it. That’s fine. I turn to the crowd with Lance and we both put an arm over each other’s shoulder and wave.
The crowd gives us adulation to an extent I had never felt before.
Maybe I underestimated Lance.
Maybe you underestimated me. But I’m still the Mayor of New York City. And it looks like I’ll be winning another term. Easily.
Michael Anders. Remember that name.
And considering how many stories are set in this city, you’re going to be running into me again.
I guarantee it.
103
Jocelyn
It worked. Lance’s plan really worked. I can hardly believe it, but this is real: I’m finally free to be with him, the man I love. I’m free of Michael. No more hiding, no more secrecy. I can live my life the way I want to.
After the conference was over, we didn’t even bother heading back home. It’s Michael’s home after all, and that phase of my life is already over. Lance and I are going to get our own place as soon as we can, but right now a hotel room will work just fine. To be honest, anywhere would work just fine, but I want to savor the moment over a proper mattress—I have a surprise hidden in my purse, after all, and it requires a bed.
We check into the Plaza, barely able to keep our hands off of each other. We rush through the check-in, and almost tumble inside the room the moment we get through the door.
My hands on his chest, I push him back until his knees meet the
edge of the bed. I force him to lie down, and then I climb on top of him, moving like a cat. Barely capable of thinking straight, I can’t tell if because of how happy I am… or how wet—I lean in, pressing my lips against his and kissing him softly.
“You’re mine now, Lance,” I purr into him, running my fingers over his chest, his tight shirt delineating the contour of his muscles. One hand on my face, he smiles, allowing his fingers to roam over to my neck and then tangles them in my hair. He yanks, forcing my head back.
“You’re mine too… Forever,” he says, craning his neck and placing his mouth on my cleavage, his lips softly brushing against the soft skin there.
“Is my little boy turning into a man?” I tease him, locking eyes with him.
“He is. You made me into one.” With that, he pushes the straps of my dress down my shoulders, baring my black lace bra. Hooking his fingers on one cup, he tugs it down, my hard nipple jumping into sight. Before I can prepare for it, he presses his mouth there, his lips wrapped tight around my hard rosy tip.
“Mm,” I purr, a tickling sensation of delight under my skin. “I have a surprise for you…” I whisper, grinning wickedly. Oh, he has no idea what I have in store for him.
“I like surprises,” he says, his fingers squeezing my half-naked breast.
“Then close your eyes.” He does so dutifully, that delicious smile of his almost making my heart melt. I climb down from the bed and reach for my purse; I open it and take something from the inside: something metallic and shiny. Yes, if you were thinking “handcuffs,” you guessed right. They clink against one another, the low sound making him raise his eyebrows, but he remains faithful to what I told him and doesn’t open his eyes.