by King, Imani
“I won’t back down, Sonia. I still want you. I still care about you. You can come to my room tonight and we can start talking about our future.” John took me in his arms, kissing me hard.
“I might. You’re hard to resist. I lose all my wits when you touch me. But mark my word, this thing, it’s not built to survive an election.” He kissed me again and put his hands around my waist, fanning the flames of desire at my very center. Just as I pulled away, there was a bright flash and a click at the end of the hallway.
“There she is! John Reynolds’ wife!” The photographer had caught us in mid-embrace with my lips parted in surprise. John stepped in front of me, putting his hand up to the camera. But there were more photographers and reporters, crowding into the mouth of the hallway.
“Is it true that you married Sonia because she’s pregnant? Is she after your money?”
“Where in the hell did you get that idea?” John put his arm around me, then tried to push his way through the crowd. I put my head down, a flush coming over my body.
“Is she pregnant? We heard that she joined your campaign as a shill for Janice Howell. That you’re paying her to keep quiet...” The crowd of reporters backed us against a wall, the flashes firing over and over.
“What did that woman say to you people?” John’s voice rose. He raised his arm and swung it wide, creating a small space in front of us. “It’s an arrangement, that’s all,” he shouted. His words stung me like a slap across the face. I looked up at him as he tried to pull me through the crowd. The anger rose up in me in a hot wave.
“That’s not what you said,” my voice low. The audience silenced, the flashes focusing on me. “That’s not what you said!” I pulled away from him and stomped through the crowd, pushing my way past the reporters.
“Is it true that you were hired by Janice Howell? That she’s been paying you to sleep with the senator?” My stomach twisted, and I kept my head down, pushing my way through the sea of people. “Is it true that she’s pregnant with your child, Mr. Reynolds? Is she using it to extort money from you? Janice says that you’ve both been paying her and that she has proof.”
“No comment,” he growled.
“Is it true that she’s a prostitute?” I tried to push through the photographers stationed at the end of the hall, but they wouldn’t—or couldn’t—let me pass. I turned to see John as he grabbed the reporter by the collar and shoved him back into the mass of people behind him. I gasped.
“I’m done talking about this. Leave her be. Like I said, it’s just an arrangement. That’s all.” Kelly appeared and reached out to me. She pulled me through the crowd, then put her arm around me and ran with me back to the elevator. She shoved me inside and pressed the up button. The last thing I saw were John’s deep blue eyes on mine as Kelly ran for him and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him away from the sea of flashing lights.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I ran down the hallway of the third floor and locked myself into my room. I opened the tiny refrigerator, grabbing a pack of peanut M&Ms, sinking to the floor. I shoved the candy into my mouth, barely tasting the chocolate as I swallowed. Shaking, I stood and put on a pot of coffee. I patted my belly.
“Sorry, baby. I gave up my morning coffee, but I really need something right now.” I closed my eyes, listening to the coffee drip into the pot.
It’s just an arrangement. An arrangement.
This isn’t me. This isn’t where I need to be.
John was backed into a corner, but how quickly he had turned around what he’d said about sharing our relationship with the world. There was a soft knock at my door. I walked to open it, fully expecting to see Kelly standing in front of me in her yoga pants and kimono robe. Instead, I looked up to see John, his face stripped of the positivity it had held before. He walked in and sat down at the desk, swiveling back and forth in the small office chair. My heartbeat increased, and a flush crept over my face. How could a man manage to be so damn sexy and so infuriating, all at the same time?
“Sonia—”
“I think I need some time off from the campaign, John. It’s not going to be good for you to have me anywhere around.” I held the cup of coffee in front of me like a shield.
“Absolutely not. I need you here.” His voice was hard and stern, a far cry from the pillow talk of earlier.
“As what? Your outreach director… or your booty call secret wife? The worst thing is that I’ll respond every time you ask me.” Tears started in my eyes. I would always come running, driven toward him by some unstoppable force. “I’ll always be there, running to your hotel room.” My voice broke, tears at the corner of my eyes.
“I need you on the campaign. We need you to win. We’ll figure out the scandal along the way.” It was hard to look at him—those eyes as deep as midnight, those broad shoulders, the length of his body that made me feel small for once in my life. But those words—it’s just an arrangement—made me know I needed to go home. I looked down at the floor, frozen where I stood.
“It’s almost over,” I said. “You and Kelly, you can figure this out. I can’t. I’ve already gained ten pounds, and I’ll be showing soon. The media will have a field day with it. The worst has happened. We can’t win this, John. And I’m done. My body’s exhausted, my brain, my heart. It’s all been focused on you and—”
“How do you think I feel? I poured my whole life into winning this election. And I don’t know if you’re staying or going from one minute to the next.”
“Well that’s one question you have the answer for now. I’m going. You can come find me after the whole damn thing is over. If you even want to.”
“It was all a mistake, wasn’t it? All of this, with you and me?” His words twisted through my heart like the blade of a knife.
“Yes,” I said. As much as part of me wanted John—wanted him for real— we were never anything real. As much as we’d flirted with love, we’d never reached the place where we could truly let go. We’d come together in the frenzy of the campaign, our hearts and minds focused on winning. Our little relationship never had a chance.
“Sonia.” He leaned toward me, and I backed away. “Please stay. Until the end of the campaign. This was our mistake. I need you here to figure it out with me.”
“Dammit John, it was your mistake to sleep with a woman ten years younger than you. I’m not the one seeking a position of power. I’m just the woman behind the scenes, remember? You’re a big boy, John. You can figure all this out by yourself. We’ve already lost. There’s no damn use in me staying. No damn use in getting hurt some more.” I looked at him, boiling hot rage coming to the surface. “I quit, John. I can’t do it anymore! I don’t have just myself to think of now. I’m not bringing this child into the world to be the topic of gossip columns.”
“So you’re leaving? That’s it, is it? Taking my child away—taking whatever chance we had of winning? You’re just going to hide your head in the sand?” His voice rose in volume, anger hidden in his words. He leaned forward in the office chair. The tears rolled quietly down my cheeks. My throat burned with it, my body shaking.
“That’s right. I can’t be the woman you lean on, John. I can’t be the one you’re calling in the middle of the night, serving your every need. The woman carrying your secret child.”
“Not so secret, anymore.” He laughed, nasty and sharp.
“No, not so secret, anymore.” I stood and walked to the door, my bare feet quiet on the carpet. I opened the door for the Senator Hopeful of Virginia. “Go, please. I don’t want to see you anymore. Not tonight. And don’t worry. You won’t have to deal with me wanting anything from you. I can take care of myself, and tomorrow morning, I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Sonia, is this about what I said? That it was an arrangement?”
“It’s about that, yes. But it’s about every day since I met you. Going from hot to cold, tiptoeing around the office… trying to avoid you, trying to stay cool, and calm, and professional… and you pul
l me in every time. You’ve proven to me that I’m another idiot woman, driven crazy by a man she can never really have.”
“If I pull you in every time…” He paused and ran his fingers through that full, thick salt-and-pepper hair. “Maybe there’s something there, something we can explore after all of this is resolved. Something better than all the mistakes we’ve made.”
“All you’ve given me are ‘maybes’ and ‘afters,’ John.”
“It feels like that’s all you’ve given me, Sonia.”
“If that’s all we can give each other, then leaving is the right decision. Now, please go. I quit, in case that wasn’t clear.” I gestured to the hallway and wiped away my mascara-tinged tears. John sighed deeply and walked to the door, pausing for a moment and reaching out to touch my arm. I flinched and pulled away.
“Go,” I said. He walked out of the hallway and disappeared into the elevator. Janice had won, and all along, we’d done nothing to protect ourselves. I frowned and closed the door, expecting to feel relief, a great calm washing over me. But instead, my limbs felt heavy, lifeless. I let out a deep breath and fell on the bed, too tired to pull the covers down. I closed my eyes and drifted into a restless sleep, alone and so far away from anyone who would love me.
***
I startled awake, my heart racing. It felt like I’d forgotten something, left something behind, something important. But that couldn’t be. I was in my own hotel room, and I hadn’t left to go anywhere at all. In the morning, I would set off for North Carolina and find my way to the only two people who would comfort me without judgment, without anger.
I rubbed my eyes, then looked to the clock. 4AM. But my brain was wired, buzzing with electricity, almost like I’d had a jolt of strong coffee. I groaned and rolled over, trying to force my eyes closed. But my brain wouldn’t cooperate. After all hell had broken loose, there was no rest for the weary. Admitting defeat, I put my slippers on and walked out of my room, propelled forward by the energy coursing through my veins
I meandered into the grand hotel lobby of The Jefferson. At four in the morning on a Saturday, the place was empty. The bar was closed, chairs set up on the grand wooden tables. Down on the first floor, chairs and immaculately decorated tables stood among empty trays and glasses, waiting for the world-famous brunch to begin in five hours.
I looked around, wondering just what it was that I needed. Company? A friend? Someone to tell me to go home, go have my baby in shame? Adopt her away?
Her. I looked down at my belly. Are you a her? Why am I thinking that you’re telling me something?
I walked along the grand, plush carpet, my footfalls silent in the darkened lobby. The only sound was the steady hum of the heating system, kicking on for the first time on this cool October night. I sank onto a bench that overlooked the lower lobby, uncomfortable in the strange stillness after the nearly murderous pace we’d kept for the past few weeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of gold—bright gold curls running by in one of the side hallways, and a quick peek of a black and gold dress.
A child... At this hour? I leapt to my feet and ran to the hallway, looking down into its emptiness. Just a trick of the mind. Probably hormones running amok. But then I saw it again. There she was, peeking at me around the corner with big, bright green eyes.
“You found me! I was trying to hide! Go out and count again!” She giggled and hid behind the doorway again. Her voice seemed somehow familiar, hitting me in a place deep in my gut, activating all the queasiness of my pregnancy again. I put my hand to my belly and stepped around the corner. The girl stood in one of the grand ballrooms, twirling in circles, her black and gold skirt billowing out around her like a cloud.
“Sweetheart, where are your parents? It’s time for little people like you to be in bed.”
“Silly! You’re my mama! Daddy’s asleep. You told him to take a sleeping pill since he was all nervous. So he’s sleeping. I can’t sleep.”
Mama. I fell to my knees, tears coming to my eyes in a hot rush. The little girl ran over to me and cupped my face in her hands.
“Silly Mama. Don’t cry. I know we are moving to a new house, but we’ll be okay.”
“A new house?”
“Yes. It’s all you and daddy talk about. You’re scared, and he’s always got a nervous tummy. But I’m brave enough for all of us.” My breath hitched in my throat, tears rolling down over the girl’s cool, soft hands.
“Who’s your daddy?” It came out in a raspy whisper, my throat aching, burning with emotion.
“Mama, he’s just Daddy. The handsomest man in the world. And he loves you and me more than anything in the world, and that’s why he’s got to make the world a better place for us to live in. I’m his Jessie, and he calls you Baby, even though your name is Mama.” I laughed, tears streaming. I looked into those eyes, streaked with gold, her skin caramel like my mother’s. All a vision of golden brown hair, bouncing perfect curls.
“I’m nobody’s mama, sweetie. And I’m nobody’s wife.”
“You’re my mama! But I know you’re scared. That’s why I’m here, to be brave for you and Daddy. It’s a special day for all of us. For the country, too.” I put my hands on top of hers, closing my eyes for a moment. I fell into darkness, my body falling back into a pillowy softness.
A second later I opened my eyes, sweating and panting. I sat bolt upright, bringing my hand to my heart in the darkness of my hotel room. I looked at the clock. 5AM. Nearly time to wake. But minutes ago, I had been talking with a girl named Jessie, and I’d been wandering through the halls of the grand old hotel. It couldn’t be. I closed my eyes and sunk back down in the sheets. It might have been a dream. It was a dream.
“A dream. Jessie. Jessamyn.” The tears came in full now, and I cried into my pillow, my face growing hot with rage and confusion. Some time later, I was asleep again, waking blearily to my 6 AM alarm. I rose and walked in a daze to the coffee pot.
“My baby. My little girl. Always mine,” I muttered. “I promise you’ll always be with me.” For a moment, I thought I could feel the shadow of movement inside. But it was far too early for that—it was probably just the queasiness of my first trimester. Soon to be my second. But somehow, I could feel her. My child, as real as a person I could touch and feel before me. Far more real, in fact, than the people saying horrible things about me, saying horrible things about John. I took a sip of the coffee and looked at the sun rising over the sleepy city of Richmond. If I left now, I could make it to my parents’ house in three hours, and not a single reporter would know where I was.
“I could go, Jessamyn. Protect you from all of this. Besides, it’s about time you met your grandparents.” I swung my bags over my shoulders, hoping that I wouldn’t run into a nasty reporter who had been waiting all night for the scoop on John’s secret bride. I shuddered and crept into the hallway. I was greeted by the noises of housekeepers and servers starting their day. I caught the eye of a young woman bringing breakfast to a room, then waved at her like a crazy person. She turned, and I saw that she, too, was pregnant, much further along than I was.
“Can you get me to the staff elevator that goes down to the parking garage?” The woman looked at me, recognition sweeping over her face. “Please, please help me. I can’t. I’m pregnant, and I just want to get home to my parents. All I want is to protect my baby. I have to get the hell out of here.” The woman brought a finger to her lips.
“Shhh. Those people are everywhere.” She caught my arm and led me to the end of the hall to a door marked “Staff Only.” “Go down the steps here. They lead right to the garage. If you see anyone, keep your head down and go fast. They’re out for blood, aren’t they?” I nodded.
“Thank you,” I whispered. She opened the door, and I walked into an empty stairwell. “Thank you so much.” The woman paused and nodded.
“Just get out, and take care of yourself.” She let go of the door, and it closed behind me. I ran down the stairs, nearly tripping as I entered t
he depths of the hotel basement. I ran into the parking garage, making a beeline for my car.