Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2)

by Lesli Richardson

  I study her as I slowly nod. “I know who they are. How, exactly, do you plan to make this happen? Get him to marry you? What would I have to do?”

  “I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t, I’ll start talking to reporters and say that he raped me one night at his campaign office in Omaha, back when he was still in the House. That it’s really why he endorsed me when I ran, to keep me quiet.” She’s watching me as she takes a sip of her martini.

  It’s only with the gravitational force approaching black-hole levels that keeps my expression neutral. “Say what?”

  “I’ll say I went to talk to him about something after-hours. No one around. You ever see that old office of his? When he wasn’t in DC, he used to live in an empty office in the back of his headquarters in Nebraska. Which is tacky, for starters. Not to mention backward from what some reps do, sleeping in their offices in DC. But I’ll tell the press that he invited me to come talk, we were alone, and…well, things happened.

  “Oh, I’ll say that he was drunk, and he apologized immediately after and begged me not to go to the police, but his reputation will be completely and irrevocably destroyed. There will be no rehabbing his political career. He’ll be lucky if authorities in Omaha don’t press charges, even if I refuse to cooperate with the investigation and ask them to drop it.”

  Another of those jagged-glass smiles. “My word against his. #MeToo, you know. If he doesn’t want to find himself alone on election night, he’d better agree. It’s too late for the party to nominate someone else and get them on the ballot.”

  She’s right about that. I tamp down my rage because, as Leo’s drummed into me, anger makes you stupid and weak in a crisis. “Stella’s your best friend. You’ve known Elliot for years.”

  “I know, right?” Evil completely infuses her smile with a terrifyingly sick, sharp edge. “Gives me an extra level of veracity, doesn’t it? That I’ve known them for so long. Makes sense Elliot would let me, of all people, into his office at night, alone. Also explains why I’d put myself into that situation to start with. Because I trusted him. Anyone who knows him knows he’s in damned good physical shape. He’s larger than me. Why, a woman such as myself doesn’t stand much of a chance. And…” She sighs. “My best friend will testify that I contemporaneously told her what happened. Why on earth would his own sister lie about something so damning?”

  She’s absolutely right on all counts. This woman truly is fucking evil. I’m so stunned I can’t even make myself correct her about using his name.

  “I know you care about Elliot,” she continues. “You’re loyal to him. If you’re as savvy as people have told me you are, you’ll know making me First Lady is what’s best for the country and for Elliot.”

  I give it a moment to make her think I’m considering it. “So you do think he should be president?”

  “Of course I do. No reason we can’t work together, though. He can get his initiatives passed, and I can keep my friends happy. Plus, you help me with this, and Elliot won’t get hurt.”

  Oh, he’d be hurt, all right. “If I help you, you promise he won’t be hurt?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Does Stella know we’re talking right now? Has she already agreed to help you?”

  Grace waves my questions away. “No, I haven’t talked to her. Yet. But she has even more to benefit from this plan, either way. If she’s standing by me, our friends will help her for her loyalty to them. Plus, she’ll be seen as a strong woman doing the difficult but morally right thing.” She shrugs. “She’ll probably get a book deal out of it, too. Speaking circuit, all of that.”

  There’s no fucking chance I’m helping her, but I can’t let her know that before I come up with a plan to neutralize her scheme. I pull a different mask into place. “Then how do we spin this? And, again, what’s my role?”

  She brightens, assuming I’m in. “He marries me, we say we’ve been dating in secret, you corroborate it all, and I’ll resign from the House in time to walk the inaugural parade with him. That’s the plan.”

  Annnd that’s why she’s not worried about her re-election chances.

  She waggles a finger at me. “Just get me five minutes in a room with him, and I’ll do the rest. Like I said, there are a lot of people in the wings who’d be very grateful. You will think you’ve been blessed by an archangel once they start expressing their gratitude. And this isn’t quid pro quo. I’m not offering you anything. They’re not offering anything specific. All I want is access.”

  “But if they want him knocked out of the race—”

  “Only because I haven’t brought him to heel before now. They’ll be satisfied if I’m in the East Wing and have him under my control.”

  “You’re sure they won’t hurt him, if I help you? I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  Her smile widens, creeping me out. I realize that’s her legit smile, and it’s horrifying. “I promise, if you get me a few minutes alone with Elliot to do this, I will make sure he’s taken care of and protected. I swear.”

  My mind races because I need time, even though I’m already formulating a plan. “I’ll need a few days, at the very least. He’s booked, we’re travelling all weekend, we’ve got debate prep, and I’ll have to come up with an excuse that doesn’t make me look like I’m in on this.”

  “Don’t panic—you’ve got time. Up until the last day of October. Otherwise, I’ll drop my own October surprise by the thirty-first, if I haven’t struck a deal with Elliot by then.”

  She looks smugly self-assured. “I know you like him, Jordan. Everyone likes Elliot. He’s a sweet guy. Me exposing him as a rapist would be such a shock to everyone, and would needlessly ruin his life.”

  She tsks. “But you make this happen for me? Elliot’s a winner, I’m a winner, and you’re a winner. The sky’s the limit for your future, if you do this. I’ll keep you clean, too. I’ll make sure to keep your name out of it.”

  I take another fake sip of my drink. “We will need to coordinate this. This won’t be an overnight plan. I have to carefully set it up. We’ll need to meet a few times to get our stories straight and verify past campaign appearance dates and locations, your whereabouts, those details. We can’t rush and be sloppy.”

  She lights up, the greedy bitch. “Absolutely.” She downs half her drink.

  I pretend I’m thinking. “I do this for you, then I want chief of staff.”

  Confusion furrows her brow. “I thought Casey-Marie Blaine will be his chief? Didn’t he just hire her?”

  Fuck. That’s not public knowledge yet, meaning Grace has a mole in the campaign or in the West Wing, which is something else I’ll need to figure out, and fast. Elliot hasn’t talked to Stella. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have told her that. He knows the info’s embargoed until next week.

  “East Wing,” I clarify. “Your chief of staff. After the inauguration, Elliot’s hiring Leo Cruz to be his body man. They’re best friends, but right now Leo’s working for President Samuels. I want to remain in the White House, and not as an assistant deputy to some policy wonk and exiled across the street in the EEOB. You’ll need someone working for you who has connections and East Wing experience, and I have several years of both. It’s logical. I want the exposure so it’ll help my career after Elliot’s out of office. You’re not the only one with future plans and ambitions. Just because you don’t know mine doesn’t mean I don’t have any.”

  “Ahh.” But she looks happy now. “Done. You do this for me, you’re my chief of staff, and I’d be thrilled to have you.”

  There’s quid pro quo. This all, right here, is more than enough to turn over to the FBI. Extortion, trading favors—but it doesn’t protect Elliot from other attempts.

  One thing isn’t a lie on my part—this won’t be an overnight plan.

  I pretend to take a moment mulling it over. “Okay. Then I’m in. As long as Elliot doesn’t get hurt. But if anyone hurts Elliot, I’ll burn you so hard and fast you won’t know what hit you.”

/>   She holds up a hand. “I promise to protect him. Absolutely.”

  I make a move, like my work phone’s buzzing, and I fish it out of my blazer pocket to check it. “I need to respond to this, and I also need to use your bathroom.”

  “Down the hall, first door on the right.”

  “Thanks.” I take my glass with me, lifting it to my lips so she can see me do it. First thing I do in the bathroom is take the olives out of the glass and slowly dump the contents into the toilet. Makes it sound like I’m peeing, too.

  The second thing I do is pull my personal cell from my shirt pocket and confirm it’s still recording all of this. I replace it, then flush the toilet. Turning on the sink, I wash my hands, carefully wash the martini glass out with soap, then rinse it, dry it off, and refill it halfway with water before thoroughly rinsing the olives off. Only then do I shut the sink off.

  I’m…I’m so angry that I’m trembling. But I shake out my hands and take a few deep breaths to calm myself. Once I know I’m in control, I turn to the door and exit with the glass to my lips like I’m drinking.

  She’s still sitting in the chair, but in a different position, and her drink is on the coffee table. Wouldn’t shock me if she’d listened outside the bathroom door and then hurried back to her seat. I doubt she spiked my drink when she made them, because she’s already smacked me with the heavy ask. Still, I’m not taking any chances. Wouldn’t shock me if she’s recording our meeting despite what she said.

  I retake my position on the couch. “How can I be certain you won’t double-cross me?”

  “Because you are too valuable to me. I reward help. I only turn on those who disappoint me.” She shrugs. “I honestly don’t have any dirt on you. Which is…weird, admittedly. But you are loyal to Elliot and want to protect him, meaning he is your weakness. Don’t make me hurt him. Help me, and we all win.”

  That’s a threat, too. Don’t think I don’t recognize it. Unfortunately, she’s absolutely correct about Elliot being my weakness, even if she doesn’t know how true that is, or why.

  Sure, I could head straight from here to the FBI with this info and burn her, but that’ll also drag Elliot into a scandal that could cost him the election. Grace or her friends would retaliate in some way. The GOP would have a field day with bullshit like this. Not to mention, it doesn’t mean someone else won’t try to pull a similar stunt.

  Or that Grace wouldn’t still try to hurt Elliot, even after she was exposed. Because she’d lose her House seat, she’d be prosecuted, and at that point, she’d have nothing left to lose and would burn everything to the ground.

  Then there’d be The Family to worry about.

  I make a show of pondering my options. “We’ll need to set it up as a secret romance between you two. So the press buys it.”

  She leans forward. “Any ideas how we get around the White House and VP residence entry logs?”

  “Like you said, you’ve known each other for years. It’s not like you just met each other. That gives us a lot of leeway. I’ll say you two met up during some of our campaign stops and I covered for both of you.”

  “That would be convenient.”

  “Yes.” I finish my drink. “It’s also another incentive for you to keep me around as your alibi. To confirm to people you were meeting while he was on the campaign trail.”

  She smirks. “A man after my own heart. I knew when I learned more about you that you’d be my kind of guy. You’re apparently very careful about covering your tracks.”

  Inwardly, I blanch. Outwardly, I slowly eat the olives off the toothpick. “You did, huh?”

  “Yes. I know your parents disowned you. That leaves a person with a lot of anger and a chip on their shoulder to prove to the world they’re worthy.”

  I hate that, in this way, she’s more correct than she realizes. “Yep.”

  “Until you agreed to help, I was actually wondering if you and Elliot were doing something together. Secret relationship.”

  I glare at her and sharpen my tone. “Who says he’s gay?”

  Genuine surprise arches her brows. “He’s not? I mean, I assumed you were, and—”

  “Just because he’s single doesn’t mean he’s gay. Doesn’t mean I’m gay, either. What, you assume because I’m not stacked like a gym rat that I’m gay?”

  I mean, I am gay, obviously. Yet nothing I’ve said, in case she’s recording this, contradicts that I’m gay, or even confirms Elliot’s orientation. But I’m enjoying that, for the first time since my arrival, she looks uncertain.

  “I-I mean, I assumed you were, because you lived with Leo Cr—”

  “Well, knock that shit off.” My heart hammers in my chest. “What you’re doing is sketchy enough without trying to ruin his reputation and cast doubt that your marriage to him is real in the first place. There’s a reason Elliot prefers his privacy. It has nothing to do with his sexuality, and everything to do with his body.”

  From the way her brows arch, I can tell this explanation was nowhere on her radar. “His body?”

  “His injuries.”

  I fall under another practiced gaze. “Stella said he’s self-conscious about his leg.”

  Now I allow some of my anger to bleed through. “It’s not just his leg. I’m not going to tell you all the details. Let’s leave it at it’s not only part of his leg that he lost. What he lost doesn’t impact how well he can do his job. Let him have his dignity, all right? There are things he hasn’t told his family, and he doesn’t have to. There’s a reason he’s only allowed me and Leo to help him, because he doesn’t want people running their mouths about something he doesn’t like to talk about.”

  Again, none of that’s technically a lie. He lost his peace of mind, too, with the PTSD he struggles with.

  Not my fault she’s inferring things from what I said.

  That she’s so easily steered in that direction means she’s already trusting me a little and willing to swallow a hook.

  Excellent.

  Her eyes widen. “Sorry. Calm down.” Feels like she’s buying it. Hopefully, that “revelation” knocks her off-center enough to give me the tactical advantage.

  “Look, I’m going to help you, but I love Elliot like a brother. My best friend. He really is the best choice for president. That’s why I don’t want to be directly fingered in this. I don’t want him to hate me.”

  “Okay, I said I’m sorry. Can he still have children?”

  I glare at her. “I told you, I’m not discussing his injuries. Let’s just say you can use his firm opinion on not having children as a legit reason to divorce and pretend to still be on good terms with him. And, yes, that’s why he’s single, because he’s extremely self-conscious about his…injuries.”

  I can see from the way her shoulders deflate a little she was hoping to tie Elliot to her with kids. Glad I burst her bubble. Obviously, that’s all a lie on my part, but I need to thoroughly shake her confidence in the strength of Stella’s intel and drive a wedge between the women.

  “Oh.” Yep, she sounds disappointed. “Guess that plan’s out, then,” she mutters.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble.” Not at all, but I’ll say or do whatever’s necessary to protect Elliot from this psycho.

  She waves my comment away. “No, it’s fine. Leaves me free to keep working after, I guess.”

  “What’s Stella going to say? Can you count on her to back you up on this? I don’t want her to know I’m helping you beyond verifying you and Elliot had a secret relationship.”

  Her sly smile is probably genuine. “Oh, I have that handled. We know each other’s dirty secrets. I won’t have to tell her about your involvement.”

  “But can you trust her?”

  “Yeah.” She laughs and looks what might be wistful on anyone else. “As an offer of good faith, I’ll let you in on a little something. Stella’s the only one who knows this. Back in college, she forced me into NA.”

  “NA? Narcotics Anonymous?”

  “Yeah
. Ecstasy, K, a few other party drugs. Used to go to a lot of raves and clubs. She helped me get and stay clean.”

  I point at her martini glass. “But you’re drinking.”

  She shrugs. “I’ve never had a problem with alcohol. Just drugs. Sampled cocaine and heroin, and used to abuse Adderall, but E and K is where I really had trouble.”

  “You doing anything now?”

  Another shrug. “Xanax, but I have a prescription for it, and I am careful. Helps me sleep.”

  “No other things in your past that could taint Elliot?”

  “I’ve been very careful. Stella’s my ride-or-die. I’d never hurt her, and she’d never hurt me.”

  No, they’d just metaphorically gut Stella’s brother, the greedy bitches.

  “How much are you telling her about this?”

  She snorts. “Nothing. Once I’ve spoken with Elliot, I’ll tell her the public version, and she’ll back me up. Whatever I ask her to say, she will. Because we have some of the same friends, and they’ll be even happier with her, too.”

  Okay, then. I glance at the time. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve had something come up I need to take care of. We need to get together again soon. Early next week. I’ll have some ideas by then, and a better grip on his latest schedule. I’ll let you know when.” I rise, and she does, too.

  “I’m really looking forward to our new partnership, Jordan. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  I hand her my martini glass. “Don’t make me regret it, Grace. Hands wash hands, right?”

  “Right.” She walks me to the door. “I’ll expect you to get with me soon.”

  “I will. After we return from this weekend.” She opens the door for me and I step through before I turn to face her. She’s about four inches shorter than me in her bare feet, and while I’m not beefy, I easily have forty pounds on her.