Wife of the Left Hand (Sugar Hill Book 1)

by M. L. Bullock

  I didn’t waste any of my free time. I flipped through the paperwork, refreshing my memory about tonight’s Starlight recipients. I stared at the faces of the soldiers, the haunted look in their eyes, eyes that couldn’t see their loved ones anymore. Over four hundred men and women applied for these grants, but only ten would receive them. That number was heartbreaking and unacceptable. What was going on in the Middle East that so many came back unable to see? Surely there was a bigger story here. I quietly vowed to investigate this while I leaned back in my padded chair and let the music carry me away. I must have closed my eyes for a minute because just a few minutes later my doorman rang me. I answered his call and waited for my guests to come to my door.

  Shoot, I almost forgot. I had to pack my suitcase. Jonah and I were heading out to a cabin in the country for the weekend after my interview. I hadn’t been joking with Jonah earlier. There would be fireworks. Nobody knew what I had, the evidence I’d uncovered. It would scorch the political world. I hadn’t even told my producer. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, I reasoned with myself. Yep, between my boss and David Greeley’s office, I’d need a break.

  The cabin belonged to Tenille, who was a former anchor turned successful children’s author. Jonah and I were going up to Harper’s Point to have a heart-to-heart or something. He didn’t seem excited about the idea, but he didn’t say no. How could he not be excited about a weekend away at a cabin by the lake? His tour would start in a few weeks, and we wouldn’t see each other for another month. He’d just have to go. At least Tenille understood that.

  “Don’t tell him there’s no wireless up there, Avery. That guy is addicted to social media. Once he’s there, he’ll have no choice but to talk to you.”

  “I don’t want to corner him like a rabbit, Tenille. This kind of feels like I’m trapping him.”

  “If you have that attitude, then you’ll never catch him. You deserve to know where you stand, Avery, and how is that trapping him? He’s one damn lucky guy.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Seriously, if he’s who you want, then make a move. How come you can be aggressive in an interview but don’t want to seal the deal in your personal life? Get with it, girl.” Tenille had the prettiest, most encouraging smile I’d ever seen. She reminded me a bit of Julia Roberts but with a smaller nose. She had the same gorgeous hair, though. We’d met in college and had been friends ever since. She wasn’t a fan of Jonah Blight—either his music or him as a person—but she tolerated him for me. For now. I suspected she’d like to use her newly learned karate chops on him if she could.

  “Well, I guess I’ll know something this weekend.”

  “Are you prepared for that?”

  “I’m ready to take the next step. Whatever that might be.”

  “Words to live by, my friend.”

  The doorbell rang and roused me. I half hoped it was Jonah coming to allay my fears. What I wouldn’t give to see him show up with a packed bag and a smile. “Couldn’t wait, babe. I’m going to ride up with you. This will be great!” That was never going to happen, but a girl could dream, right? I opened the door to Candace and her entourage.

  Candace was “on” from the word go. “Okay, so your hair needs to go shorter. We want the polished, put-together look tonight. Woody, none of those fake extensions, all right? Avery needs to look natural but polished. I have no idea who did Alicia Pennington’s hair, but it looks horrible.”

  Woody’s bald head shined as he shook his head. “Polished but natural, got it.” Woody smiled at me and patted my shiny black vanity chair. I plopped in it and listened to Candace as she began to bombard me with numbers. The CV reports, which were just popularity reports, came in today, and apparently I’d done fairly well. These were usually reliable indicators to prove that we were still America’s number one news show and I was America’s number one newscaster. Independent reporting like this gave me an upper hand going into contract negotiations, which were just around the corner. How different my life was now. According to Candace, if News Quarter wanted to keep me, they’d have to pay America’s Sweetheart Newscaster quite a bit more than the current contract. I wasn’t sure how far to push them, but naturally she had a number in mind.

  I half listened to her, grimacing at “America’s Sweetheart Newscaster.” I hated that title, and she knew it. I was a damn good reporter; the “sweetheart” moniker seemed more appropriate for actresses like Jennifer Aniston. No offense to Jen. I was just a humble gal from Belle Fontaine, Alabama. A girl who happened to land an awesome job at the right time with an up-and-coming cable news station. I rode the wave of the station’s popularity, and things had turned out better than I could have imagined. The sky seemed to be the limit, and even the senior reporters were happy to see News Quarter rise in the media world.

  My only detractor was Ed Stanwyck, a self-centered anchor with perfect hair and no brains. It chapped his hide that I’d gotten the center desk. At the beginning of my placement he made a show of being friendly. That didn’t last long. We didn’t speak to one another except during the daily co-anchoring. As Woody blasted the blow dryer and Candace paced my bedroom with her cell phone to her ear, I thought about Vertie. She would have been proud; she had been proud. I’d been lucky to have her, and she’d supported me, both financially and emotionally. But she frustrated me. She never wanted to talk about my parents or our hometown, only on the rare occasion that she had a glass of wine or two. What would my parents say? Would they be proud? There was no one left to be proud of me. Just Tenille and sometimes Jonah.

  Candace continued to talk. I grunted in acknowledgement when she paused in the doorway. She didn’t see tonight as anything more than a photo op, but I did. I felt like I’d earned something that nobody else ever had, and I needed to give back.

  Once Woody was done, Candace joined us in my bathroom, stepping carefully over electrical cords and touching my hair. She hardly noticed Woody’s look of disdain. “That will work. Let’s go over tonight’s activities.”

  “Thanks, Woody. I love it,” I said honestly. He hadn’t trimmed my hair, and she hadn’t even noticed. I like this medium length. It suited me.

  “About the fundraising, what can we realistically expect? I’m nervous about meeting the goal. I can’t imagine disappointing the foundation.”

  Candace smiled secretively. “Oh, you have nothing to worry about. You didn’t think I’d let you head up an ineffective fundraiser, did you? We have pledges enough to make up any difference you might have, and I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.”

  I grinned at her, trying to shake my head. Woody scolded me, and I asked, “How on earth did you manage that, and what’s it going to cost me?”

  “Oh ye of little faith. It won’t cost you much. Just a few photographs with some of the local leaders. It’s not too high a price.” She checked her watch and pushed her black-rimmed glasses back up on her nose. Candace was an attractive woman—or she had the bones of one. Beyond a little lipstick, she rarely wore makeup. Tonight she wore a black sleeveless turtleneck, a cashmere sweater and black pants. If her intention was to blend into the background, she’d do that perfectly. I chose a blue silk dress. The hemline came to just above my tanned knee, and it was an off-one-shoulder deal. I had a sapphire pendant to wear that I kept for special occasions. My graduation gift from Vertie.

  “Where’s Jonah? Isn’t he coming here?” she asked, checking her watch again.

  “No. He’s meeting me at the event. Something about signing papers at the studio. He’s got a tour starting soon. Lots of paperwork.”

  She looked skeptical but didn’t say anything else about him. Fifteen minutes later, we were stepping into the limo and speeding to the fundraiser. I hoped my coworkers showed up. Candace said if they didn’t, she’d make sure they knew about it. I had no doubt everything would go fine. We arrived in a few minutes, right on schedule, but Jonah was running late. Of course.

  I waited in the limo while Candace g
ot out to check on a few things. I texted Jonah about five times before I gave up. I couldn’t keep these folks waiting. Climbing out with a smile on my face, I greeted the cameras and walked proudly into the venue by myself. I waved politely and accepted the applause of the onlookers as gracefully as possible.

  I was seething inside.

  Chapter Two – Avery

  “Thirty minutes, Avery. You need anything?” Amanda poked her head in my doorway. I tapped on my cell phone again before guiltily tossing it down on my desk.

  “Nope. You got the graphics cued?”

  “It’s me you’re talking to. Of course.”

  She went to leave, and I called after her, “Hey!”

  “Yeah?”

  “How is junior? Fever gone? He on the mend?”

  “Fever is down but not entirely gone.”

  “Go home, Amanda. You should be with Tyler. Not hanging out here.” I now regretted not filling her in on what I planned to do, but I was trying to protect her from the firestorm that was sure to follow. I doubted she’d see it that way, not at first, but this was a chance I had to take.

  “And miss this? Heck no! You’d have to drag me away. Besides, Bradley is with the baby. I think he can handle a couple hours of pretend-Dad time.”

  “I am glad to hear that. Hey, come in and close the door.”

  She raised her eyebrow as she closed the door behind her. “What’s up? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

  I waved the idea away. “Never. It’s not that.” I leaned across my desk and rolled the pencil in my hands. Should I tell her about the video? I just couldn’t do it. Amanda wasn’t just my producer. Besides Tenille, she was probably the only real friend I had. This was a “Hail Mary” pass, and I wasn’t going to burn my friend like this. “It’s Jonah,” I lied. I was ticked off about him, but not so much that I’d talk to Amanda about it.

  “Oh yeah, the bastard. What about him?”

  “You sound like Tenille now,” I said with a grin.

  “You should listen to your friends, Avery. We know a stinker when we smell one.”

  “What? I was just wondering if I missed a call from him or something. He was a no-show last night. It’s not like him to forget.”

  “Please. Are you serious? Have you not logged onto any social media today?” She poked her red hair behind her ear and chewed her lip nervously. I could tell she knew something she didn’t want to tell me. Well, she’d just have to.

  “Nope. You know I don’t ride the computer when I’m working on a big interview. I can’t let that influence me. Haters gonna hate and all that. Why? What did I miss?” I picked up my phone and searched “Jonah Blight” on Twitter. A cascade of photos sprayed across my screen. I stared at the captions:

  Wedding must be off.

  Blight’s banging Brittany Leigh? What’s Avery say about that?

  These weren’t year-old pictures. They were from last night’s Glitter Rock party on Steed Island. He was clearly wasted and clearly unfaithful.

  “Oh my God. That bastard.”

  “Yep. I’m sorry you have to see this right now. Listen, if it’s any comfort, Brittany Leigh’s rep says they are just friends. It’s probably taken out of context.”

  With a glare, I shoved the phone in her face. It displayed a picture of Jonah and Brittany grinding on a table. “How is this out of context?”

  “Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger. That’s not me he’s on top of,” she barked back at me. From the dark circles under her eyes, she was probably running on zero sleep. I knew how that felt. I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again after this.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take this out on you. Obviously I’m just being ridiculous. We weren’t exclusive. I mean, we never said we were. I guess that’s just par for the course. He is a rock star, after all.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “You must be joking. Avery, I don’t get you at all. Why do you think you need this guy? He’s a twit, a loser. You could have anyone you wanted. Forget him.” Her phone vibrated, and she stared at it. “Okay. Put your game face on. He’s in the building.”

  “Jonah?”

  “No! David Greeley. He’s coming through security right now. You should probably head to the studio. You got this? Or should I call Sandwich?”

  I growled at her and poked her arm playfully as I passed by. “When I’m dead. Ed Stanwyck couldn’t handle this guy.”

  She snapped her fingers at me. “Okay then, get your ass in gear, Miss Dufresne.”

  I stalked out of the office, compartmentalizing my feelings as best I could. I navigated the various cords and boxes that littered the floor as I scanned my notes. What was I doing? This wasn’t like cramming for a midterm. I eyeballed Philip in the video window, and he gave me a discreet thumbs-up. I hoped this didn’t hurt him—or me.

  My stomach twisted, and for a second I considered running up to the window to tell Phil to forget it. But I didn’t. I wasn’t some simpering wannabe. I was Avery Dufresne—America’s Newscaster. I sipped my coffee and handed the mug off to the guy standing next to the cameraman, but not without first sloshing its contents on my shirt. At least it wasn’t hot. “Damn. Somebody grab me a detergent stick. Amanda!”

  “Coming! Here. Had it in my pocket.” I scrubbed my shirt and passed it back to her. Great. I get to greet Senator David Greeley with a big wet spot on my shirt. Hmm…let’s see if he can keep his eyes on me and not the stain across my chest. This should be interesting. I slid into the barstool chair and faced the camera. Alfie asked me to smile, and I did, just like I did five nights a week.

  “You look great.”

  The half dozen crew members shuffled around for a few minutes until the senator and his yes-men arrived in the studio. Greeley shook my hand; it felt like ice, kind of like the ice in his eyes. We sat down together at the interview desk as the crew got ready.

  “Okay, Senator. The first five minutes of our interview I give to you. I won’t interrupt you, but I may ask a follow-up question or two. We have some video to show, and then we’ll get your thoughts on the video. That’s it. Your opponent declined our interview, so I’ll have to play devil’s advocate a bit. It’s nothing personal, sir. I am sure you know how this all works. You’re no stranger to battling it out on the Senate floor, are you?”

  Before he could answer, one of his “assistants” strolled up and began whispering in his ear. I could tell this guy didn’t want Greeley to continue. To his credit, the senator did not back out of the interview. That’s a shame. He’ll probably regret that later.

  “Counting now! Ten, nine, eight…” When the cameraman got to four, he stopped counting aloud and used his fingers instead. I smiled at the camera as if it were my best friend.

  “Good afternoon, America. I’m Avery Dufresne, and this is News Quarter. Let’s start with breaking news. Linda?”

  Linda’s face popped up on the monitor in front of me. She gave her report about the influx of refugees along the southern border of Jordan. Things were dire…things were always dire in the Middle East. “Thanks, Linda. Is there anything else you can tell us about the presence of the U.S. military there tonight?”

  “Not yet, but my sources promise to have that information soon.”

  “Thanks. We’ll be here, Linda.”

  The banner music played, and I arranged my papers quickly before the camera returned to me. “Here we are tonight with our guest, Senator David Greeley. Senator, thank you for coming on the Quarter tonight. Is this your first time here?”

  “No, I came once before, but I didn’t quite make the list that day. Something big happening in Russia beat me. Thank you for inviting me back, and congratulations on your show. I hear it’s number one.” I smiled politely at him. He could toss all the flattery he wanted in my direction; I wasn’t backing down. I knew the truth, and soon everyone else would too.

  “That is thanks to our viewers, of course. So tonight, I have a great many things I want to talk to you about. But first we, the Ameri
can people, want to hear from you. Tell us about David Greeley, the senator. What should we know about you?”

  “Gee, Avery. I am flattered that you would want to know.” Does he think I’m flirting with him? I kept the smile on my face but remained professional.

  “We take an interest in our senators, especially the new ones. It seems that promises are always made, but they aren’t always kept. I’d be interested in hearing how you plan to keep your promises, Senator Greeley, but I don’t want to take up your time. Go ahead, sir. We can get into that more later.”

  Amanda was frowning at me, but I couldn’t look at her directly. I could see her face out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to look at her and say, “Can you believe this sonofabitch?”

  “I want to put those fears to rest. I’ll do what I promised, but things don’t move as quickly as any of us would like. Surely the American people know who I am by now—they elected me. So let’s clear the air, Avery. What questions have you received? If they don’t involve national secrets, I would like to answer them.”

  I flashed another smile. “If you like.” I pretended to peruse my list of questions. “Let’s start with this one. Senator, when you were running for office, you promised the people of Georgia a new prison facility. Now it appears that the state senate won’t support the ‘Greeley plan.’ They say local communities do not want the prison near their school, and the governor has also come out against the proposed location. So it doesn’t seem like you have the support you need to even begin. What can you do to make good on this promise?”