I hit play, horror filling me as I watched me move toward Jackie in the elevator. I watched as her dress hit the ground, and suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore.
Nausea and bile rose. I grabbed the trash can under my desk, vomiting, last night’s scotch and this morning’s crisis emptying my stomach. Sweat pooled on my brow. This was so fucking bad. So fucking bad.
I grabbed my cell from the floor.
“Are you still there?”
“I take it you saw the video. You want to explain to me how this happened?”
I closed my eyes, sinking down into my desk chair. “It’s my fault. Completely my fault.”
“Is that the elevator at work?”
I felt like a little kid again—oh god, my parents were going to see it. “Yeah.”
“And what about this seemed like a good idea?”
I held my head in my hands. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was impulsive, and stupid, and I shouldn’t have put her in that position. I didn’t think about the cameras. They never even crossed my mind.”
I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.
“This could end you.”
I knew he was right, and strangely enough, as soon as he said it, I realized I hadn’t even thought of myself when I saw the video. I’d thought of her—her secrets exposed, her career ruined—her naked body on the Internet—all because of my careless mistake.
“I have to fix this.”
“Good luck with that one. This is going to haunt you for a while. Comedians are going to joke about it; constituents are going to watch the video. And Jackie?” He sighed. “Jackie’s fucked. Price will drop her. Senator Reynolds is shitting a brick. As soon as she got on Capital Confessions’s radar they did a little digging and realized who she really was. The story exploded after that.”
“I have to fix this,” I repeated, my panic giving way to deadly calm. “I need to go see Jackie.”
“Absolutely not. That is the last thing you need to do. Call her on the phone. Send me in your place, but under no circumstances are you to go near her. Do you understand me? There will be reporters camped out in front of her apartment, and if they catch sight of you, this thing will only grow. You want to fix this, listen to me. You’re only going to hurt yourself and her if you act impulsively.”
Shit. “Fine. What do you suggest?”
“Call her. I’ll go over there and touch base with her soon. You’re going to need to hold a press conference. Figure out what you want to say, and how you want to handle it.”
I was definitely going to call her and beg her to forgive me. “I’m going to get in touch with my attorneys. I’ll see what I need to do to get the video taken down.”
“If you can do it, that would help. But if you can’t, we’re going to have to spin it. Something about being single and entitled to a personal life.” Mitch sighed. “I can bring you out of this, maybe. But you have to get on board with what I tell you. No more acting impulsive, no more public sex.”
This was my worst motherfucking nightmare.
Jackie
I woke up late, hitting snooze a few times before finally rolling over and getting out of bed. I had to be at work in an hour, was heading back to Price and the database, and starting my first day of Will Clayton detox.
I should have been more excited about going back to Price, should have been more grateful they’d agreed to take me back at all. But I’d miss Mitch, the Clayton campaign, the easy camaraderie. I’d miss feeling like I was part of something where I was really making a difference. I was such a small fish at Price; it was tough to feel like the work I did really mattered, not after working on Will’s campaign.
I headed to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and taking a quick shower. Today was definitely going to be a no-makeup day. I threw my hair up in a messy bun, grabbing the first outfit I could find in my closet. At least one of the benefits of working at Price was no longer obsessing about my appearance. There would be no one to impress, no one whose opinion mattered.
I grabbed my purse and cell, heading for the door. I tried to be positive, tried to tell myself it was what I needed to get clarity on the situation with Will. And I’d loved Price. It was a chance to go back to my dream job.
It was going to be a good day.
I walked down the stairs, heading for the front door. I clutched the knob, turning it as I pulled open the door, and suddenly my world exploded.
“Has your father ever acknowledged you?”
“Does Senator Reynolds know he’s your father?”
“Are you dating Will Clayton?”
“Did you steal him away from Blair?”
“Have you seen the video?”
I came to a dead stop. A handful of reporters stood on my apartment doorstep, microphones poised, cameras ready—holy mother of god. A flash bulb went off, shocking me out of my frozen stance.
They hurled more questions at me, but the roaring in my ears drowned everything out. I stepped back into the building, slamming the door shut behind me, my heart pounding.
I wasn’t sure if twenty-one was too young to have a heart attack, but the shooting pain in my chest suggested otherwise.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I grabbed my phone out of my bag, staring at the ridiculous number of missed calls. I’d had the thing on silent yesterday at work, and with everything that happened after, everything with Will, I’d been so distracted I forgot to turn the ringer back on. My hands shook as I pulled up Capital Confessions in the browser on my phone.
Holy shit.
I blinked at the screen in front of me. This had to be a dream, or more accurately, my worst nightmare.
I sank down to the ground, not caring that I was in my apartment lobby, not caring about anything else but my naked body on the Internet, my paternity exposed for the world to see, and the knowledge that I’d just wrecked every dream I’d ever had, and in the process, destroyed the career of the man I loved.
• • •
Somehow I made it up to my apartment. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I rushed to the bathroom and promptly vomited twice.
I couldn’t stop shaking. I didn’t cry; I was too shell-shocked for tears. I just sat there on the floor, wondering how I’d been so stupid to throw my future away. I’d had everything—a chance at a job I’d dreamed of for most of my life—and I blew it. And the worst part was Will. This was going to ruin his campaign.
I grabbed my phone, dialing his number, my heart in my throat as my fingers trembled. What would I even say to him?
He answered immediately. “I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. Are you okay?”
Relief filled me at the sound of his voice. I hadn’t realized just how much I needed to hear from him until he answered. Despite how awkward things had been between us yesterday, it all disappeared in the face of the shitstorm swirling around us.
“Yeah. Reporters are outside my apartment building.”
“Mine, too. I’m so sorry, Jackie. I wanted to come over, but Mitch was worried that me showing up would only give them a bigger story. I’m trying to do damage control.”
“I get it.” I closed my eyes. “I’m so sorry you got involved in this. If I were a normal girl, with normal parents, this story never would have gotten as much attention as it has. This is on me.”
“No. It isn’t. I was the stupid one who thought elevator sex was a good idea. I should have seen the camera. I should have never put you in jeopardy like that. It was reckless, and now you’re paying for it. I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t think of it, either.” I didn’t think, period, when he was around.
“I’m going to fix this.”
I loved that he wanted to try, but this was beyond him. My father’s reaction would be everything. He had the power to transform this scandal into something more manageable, something that could clear Will, but whether he would choose to do so was another thing entirely.
“What does Mitch say?”
Will sigh
ed. “He’s worried about the campaign. We have a strategy meeting in a few hours. I’m more worried about you.”
“I’ll be okay.” Total lie. “I knew what I was doing, knew what I was getting myself into. It was my risk.”
“I’m so sorry.”
My phone beeped and I stared at the caller ID. Shit.
“I have to take this. It’s Price. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Jackie?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
My heart lurched at those words, at the pain in his voice. It amazed me that he could still feel the same way about me when I’d just ruined his life.
I hung up, dread filling me as I answered the call.
“This is Jackie.”
“This is James Morgan. We’ve seen Capital Confessions. There are reporters here and the phone keeps ringing off the hook. We can’t have this kind of a scandal tied to us. Your involvement with Price has already been mentioned. We’re going to have to let you go.”
I’d known it was coming; I didn’t even blame them for their decision. I’d do the same in their position. My throat clogged with unshed tears as I watched my dream die.
“I understand. Thank you for the opportunity,” I offered weakly before I heard a click on the other end of the line.
My phone rang again. My gaze narrowed at the name that flashed across my caller ID. I stabbed “accept.”
“What the fuck was that, Sean? After everything, you couldn’t even give me a heads-up?”
“I called you when it came out. I’ve been calling you. You haven’t answered.”
“I had my phone on silent.” My eyes closed as another wave of nausea assailed me. “I’m ruined. He’s ruined. Did you think about how many people you destroyed with that post? Did you care? We’ve worked together for almost four years. Did that mean nothing to you?”
“Come on, Jackie. You know the rules; know how the game is played. This is what we do. This story landed in my fucking lap. What was I supposed to do? You want to talk about loyalty? Where was your loyalty when you quit?”
“I gave you two weeks’ notice! I didn’t leave you in a lurch; I even offered to stay on until you hired someone new. Is that what this is? Retaliation because you were pissed that I quit?”
He laughed. “This wasn’t personal; this was business. This was money and politics. This is what we do. This is D.C. You played the game and you lost. You’re no different than the hundreds of secrets you’ve exposed over the years. Next week it’ll just be a different politician, a different girl, a different scandal. Welcome to the game.”
He was right. I’d told myself all along that I was doing important work, making a difference. I’d told myself I was exposing the scandals of people who deserved to have their lies unveiled for the world to see. I’d been so focused on the guilty, I’d ignored how my actions hurt the innocent. People like Will. People who didn’t deserve to get dragged down into the muck and slime.
I’d thought I knew so much about D.C., politics, thought I understood the game. But I’d just been a stupid girl, playing deeper than I could afford, my own arrogance highlighting how little I actually knew. And now I’d gambled with everything—my future and Will’s—and lost it all.
Will
I hung up with Jackie, frustration filling me. I wanted to be with her, wanted to be there to help her through this. I hated that she was dealing with everything on her own.
I was holed up in my town house. Reporters camped out on the front stoop with cameras and microphones, ready to pounce on anything I gave them. I wanted to go out and tell everyone to fuck off.
My phone rang. Mitch.
“What did you find out?” I asked as soon as I picked up the phone.
“I know who our mole is.”
“Who?”
“Wanda from the mailroom. She offered the security guards money for the camera footage. They gave me a description of the girl who bought it from them, and I checked it against the staff. It’s her. Capital Confessions employed her as well. She saw you going into the elevator and noticed it was stuck on one floor for a while. She nosed around and stumbled across the video purely by accident.”
“Fuck.”
“I fired her, of course.” Mitch sighed. “I’m sorry this got past me.”
“You didn’t know. I don’t blame you. It’s on me, and it’s my responsibility to fix it.” I hesitated, knowing how much he was going to hate this idea. I’d thought about my options for a long time. I didn’t see another way out. My political career was the only obstacle to my relationship with Jackie. Politics or Jackie? It was an easy choice when I looked at it that way.
“I’m calling a press conference.”
“Okay, but how do you want to spin this?”
“We’re not. I’m pulling out of the race.”
“Absolutely not.”
“The decision has already been made, Mitch. I can’t do this anymore. Bouncing back from this scandal is going to take a miracle. Jackie isn’t comfortable with this life, and I can’t ask her to give up everything for me. She’s already given up enough.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No, I’m not. Letting her walk away would be the mistake. My mind’s made up. I’m choosing her.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Senator Reynolds, his daughter, and Will Clayton all appear to be in hiding. We’ve contacted both the Clayton campaign headquarters as well as Senator Reynolds’s campaign. Both declined to comment.
—Capital Confessions blog
Jackie
The sound of knocking on my door was met with dread. I’d been stuck in my apartment for two days, my roommate long since fled to her boyfriend’s place to avoid the media circus. Maybe it was cowardly, but I didn’t know what to do. The reporters had left, but my naked body had gotten plenty of airtime; going out and facing the world wasn’t exactly something I relished.
I padded over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Relief filled me at the sight of Mitch on the other side.
I opened the door. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His clothes were even more rumpled than usual, his eyes bloodshot, his hair a disheveled mess. He carried a grocery bag in his hands.
He walked over the threshold, his gaze taking in my apartment as I shut the door behind him. I offered a silent prayer he hadn’t actually watched the video. Poor video quality or not, the last thing I wanted was to think about Mitch Anders seeing my naked body.
He set the bag on my kitchen countertop.
“Groceries from Will. He was worried you were stuck here hiding out. He said something about you never remembering to eat and having bare cupboards.” I flushed. “He wanted to come himself, but I have him under house arrest until we sort this out. I think he feels badly for everything that’s gone down, so he’s trying to play by the rules.” He gestured toward the living room. “Can we sit and talk?”
I nodded, leading him over to the sofa.
I didn’t know what to say, could barely look at him with the shame coursing through me. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to ruin his campaign.”
“I know. They fired you, didn’t they?”
I nodded.
“I figured they would. Price has a zero-tolerance policy.”
“It makes sense. I deserved to get fired.”
He studied me for a minute. “What are you going to do now?”
It was a simple question, but it felt like the scariest thing anyone could have asked me.
“I don’t know.”
It was the first time in my life I’d ever been unsure of my next step.
“You fucked up. Spectacularly so.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Even in a crisis Mitch didn’t sugarcoat anything.
“Yeah, I did.”
“This thing between you and Will, it’s different right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you aren’t going to make a habit of fucking pol
itical candidates in elevators, correct? This was just a onetime thing?”
My cheeks heated. “Yeah, it was just a onetime thing.”
“And Capital Confessions?”
I winced. “I quit. How did you find out?”
“Let’s just say it’s always a good policy to keep an eye on people. I had a talk with your former editor, Sean. He signed a nondisclosure agreement, so no one will ever find out you were blogging for them.”
I closed my eyes, relief filling me. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome, but I didn’t just do it to be nice. That news would have screwed Will over, too. I’m assuming your gossip column days are over?”
I nodded.
“Good. I’d like to hire you.”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like to hire you on as a consultant. You can intern full-time for me through December, and then part-time until you graduate in May. Unpaid, of course. In May, we’ll switch you over to full-time paid work. Don’t get too excited. The pay is going to be shit compared to what you would have gotten from Price. And my office doesn’t have paintings of sailboats on the wall, or Turkish rugs, or any of that crap. But you’d work under me. I’d teach you what I know. After a year, we can renegotiate your salary.”
This couldn’t possibly be happening. This had to be a dream.
“Why?”
“Because you have a gift for this. You’re one of the best I’ve seen in a long time. You made a huge mistake, but I know a little something about making mistakes, and someone took a chance on me when I needed it. I’m giving you the same chance.
“You’ll get a clean slate, but you’ll have to prove yourself. You’ll work long hours. I rarely give out compliments, and you’ll probably get stuck doing a lot of grunt work. But I only pick the best campaigns to work on, and I promise you, you’ll get your shot.”
“Are you sure?”
“Always. I don’t do charity or feel-good bullshit. I wouldn’t offer you the job if I weren’t completely sure you could handle it. It’s my name on that firm. If you fuck up again, it’s on me. So don’t.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe he was giving me this opportunity. Hope poured through me.
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