by Scott, Riley
The two of them had handled the media queries, providing reporters with the mayor’s “no comment” statement as well as doing what they could in “off the record” conversations to protect Madeline—maybe even build some sympathy for her. Until they heard from Ian, her chief of staff, or Madeline herself with more detail or direction, there was little else they could do.
Now, in the quiet of the office, it was as if they were the only two soldiers standing on the battlefield.
Gabe watched Jacquelyn slam shut her laptop and pack her briefcase. He hoped she would go home soon. He would stay. He wanted to be here in case Jo came back, something which looked increasingly unlikely with each passing hour. He wanted to see if she was okay. She had seemed almost as upset as Madeline when they left, and he couldn’t understand why. Before today, there had been times when he wasn’t even sure that she liked working for Madeline. Today, though, things had been different—as if Jo felt protective toward Madeline. Whatever had happened during that breakfast over the weekend that Jo had mentioned had caused them to bond. It didn’t matter, he supposed. He was just thankful that Jo seemed to have made that connection to her job now, that she wanted to be a part of the team even if it meant babysitting an upset mayor.
Glancing at his BlackBerry for the hundredth time since she and the mayor had left, he sighed.
“She’s not going to call you back, you know.”
“Who?” He asked the question, knowing Jacquelyn didn’t really need to answer.
“You know who. Don’t play dumb with me, Gabe. You’ve had it bad for that girl ever since she came to work for Stratton.”
“She’s not a girl. She’s twenty-seven, and I don’t ‘have it bad for her,’ Jacquelyn. You don’t have to always butt into everyone else’s business.”
“Whatever, man. She isn’t interested. I can tell you that much. But if you hear from her with an update on Stratton, let me know.”
Gabe wanted badly to protest, but deep down he knew that Jacquelyn’s words were the truth. Jo had no interest in him, and that didn’t appear likely to change.
“Fine. Have a good night.”
“Yeah, you too,” Jacquelyn replied and left the office.
Alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder what Jo’s type was. Was it something he could become? Not that he believed in changing for someone, but maybe Jo wanted someone who made her laugh or someone who made romantic gestures or someone with a high-paying job or someone who went to the gym religiously. He made her laugh and he liked romantic gestures. He could focus on making those attributes more apparent and work toward improving the other traits. Whatever Jo needed, he would try to be it. Which is why, after sending another text message saying “Let me know if you need anything,” he eyed his watch and sat back on the office couch. He would stay another hour, just in case, and then go home. Wherever he was, though, if Jo called, he would go to her. Just as she was Madeline’s shoulder to cry on, he would be hers.
* * *
Jo shook her head as she refilled Madeline’s glass with Jameson on the rocks. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined having Madeline Stratton sitting on her couch, six drinks in, a lit cigarette in one hand and the other petting Jaws.
She stole a glance at her from the kitchen. Madeline’s tears had stopped, but her words had not. Apparently, she was the kind of drunk who told endless stories. Stories of the past and stories that she probably shouldn’t be sharing with a staff member.
Jo was thankful that Madeline was a talker, though. Otherwise Jo might have been tempted to share some uncomfortable stories of her own. Luckily she was nowhere near drunk enough for that. Madeline had insisted that Jo drink with her, but she had sipped back only two drinks so far. She was not going to get sloppy tonight. She couldn’t afford to slip in front of Madeline—even if there was a chance Madeline would forget everything by morning.
Her BlackBerry dinged. She checked Madeline one more time. Deciding she would be all right alone for a few seconds longer, she checked the message.
It was Gabe—big surprise. He had been texting ever since she and Madeline had left this afternoon. She debated about replying. She didn’t want to instigate further conversation, but she felt she should at least give him a sign that he didn’t need worry about them.
“We’re fine. Thanks!”
She typed the response and sent it before she could allow herself to reconsider the move.
Almost immediately, she received three new text messages.
“You’re still with her?”
“Are you okay? Do you need help?”
“Where are you? Can I bring anything?”
“Shit,” Jo muttered. This guy was becoming a royal pain. It was clear from this and his earlier messages that this was more than matter of him doing his job. She needed some breathing room. There was no way she would ever go out with anyone that needy—guy or girl.
She decided not to reply. She didn’t want to say whether or not she was still with Madeline. Would it look suspicious that she was? Or would it make her look like a loyal employee, someone intent on sticking with her boss through the good and the bad?
She hoped it was the latter, but at this point, she wasn’t sure how much it mattered. It wasn’t the best of circumstances, but Madeline had proved to be a lot of fun and Jo was thoroughly enjoying spending the evening with her. The best part was that Madeline appeared to be enjoying it too. She was also smiling, laughing and seeming to have a good time.
The way Jo saw it, Madeline really needed a friend right now. Contemplating her own loneliness, she realized that she was in no place to turn one away either. Despite the age difference and the fact that Jo worked for her, Madeline seemed to have decided that Jo was, in fact, a friend. That alone was making Jo’s night a great one.
As she rounded the corner back into the living room, she found Madeline leaning over her DVD rack, examining the offerings there. She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her. There was no telling what Madeline might find there. She cleared her throat loudly, hoping to distract her. “I’ve got your drink.”
Madeline glanced up momentarily and then looked back down immediately.
“I’ve never heard of this show,” she said, pointing to a DVD box.
“Oh…um…it’s not that great. Did you want to watch a movie?” Jo tried desperately to sit Madeline down. “Have a seat, and I’ll put one in for us.”
It was too late. Madeline had removed the box from the shelf.
“What exactly is The L Word?” Jo saw Madeline’s eyes widen as they took in the picture of naked women, covering their breasts with their hands, on the DVD box.
Jo searched for words, as her scariest nightmare played out before her eyes.
“It’s…it’s…”
“‘Explores the lives of a group of lesbians,’” Madeline read aloud from the back of the box before looking up at Jo inquisitively. It was comparable to the look she got from Jaws whenever she opened up a container or package of anything that smelled or sounded like it might be a snack—confused, yet intrigued.
“It belongs to a friend of mine. She recommended I watch it.”
“Is that why you have six seasons of it?” Madeline’s smile grew.
“Uh, yeah. She wanted me to see all of them.” Jo hoped Madeline couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.
“Okay,” Madeline replied, putting the box back in the rack, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Jo had left the television off all night, anxious to avoid having Madeline catch sight of footage of John and the little blond he had apparently been seeing. She knew that one glimpse of her husband with another woman and Madeline would revert to the sobbing mess she had been earlier in the day.
It had taken her an hour—and several strong drinks—to calm Madeline down after they reached the apartment and then everything in her power to keep Madeline’s mind occupied with something other than the day’s revelations.
Turning
on the set seemed worth the risk now, though, if it could prevent Madeline from asking more questions about the nice little lesbian DVDs she had just found. She grabbed the remote. “Do you want to watch anything?”
“Sure,” Madeline answered, then a dark look passed over her face. “But can we watch a movie instead of TV?”
So Madeline had been avoiding the television too. Using it to change the subject had essentially smacked her in the face again with the fact that her husband had been having an affair, Jo thought regretfully.
“What would you like to watch?” Jo asked.
“What all do you have? I’d prefer something funny tonight, if that’s good with you.”
Jo considered the options. Madeline must have gone through most of the offerings on the shelf if she had made it to her L Word collection, which had been carefully tucked behind her other movies. Having nothing more to hide—as far as movies were concerned anyway—didn’t make picking something to watch tonight any easier.
Nothing romantic. Nothing about a breakup. Nothing that will remind her of why she’s here—as if she could forget.
“How about a mindless comedy?”
“Sounds great. What do you have in mind?”
Jo held up two movie cases she never thought she would show Mayor Stratton. “Austin Powers? Or Superbad?”
“Superbad, it is,” was Madeline’s amused response.
Jo popped in the movie and took a seat on the couch, making sure to leave a cushion’s worth of space between her and Madeline.
Madeline brushed Jo’s hand as she reached for the remote, causing a jolt that Jo felt throughout her body. Easy, girl. Jo reminded herself of the perils of the situation, to no avail. She decided the only way to maintain her sanity and keep an already bad situation from becoming explosive was to admit to herself that she had feelings for Mayor Madeline Stratton. To admit it, deal with it and move on. That was easier said than done, of course.
Madeline fumbled with the buttons on the remote before finally locating the pause button. She held up her glass. “I’m going to get one more,” she said.
“Allow me,” Jo offered, wondering how the last drink had disappeared so quickly but standing to take the glass.
“Thank you,” Madeline’s response came out sounding slightly slurred, enough so that Jo decided to make this Madeline’s last drink and to water it down to keep her from getting sick.
She hurried to the kitchen and diluted the drink, stopping only long enough to send one short message from her BlackBerry, addressed to Gabe and to Jacquelyn. Madeline, she knew, had been due for a media visit the following day. And that was before this bombshell. “Cancel all of M’s appointments tomorrow. Thanks!” It was better to be safe than sorry, Jo had been taught when dealing with volatile situations in politics, and judging from how much alcohol Madeline had consumed tonight and how distraught she had been, it was a safe bet that she would not be feeling up to performing her mayoral duties in the morning.
Jo’s heart caught at the sight that greeted her as she returned to the living room. Madeline had curled up on the couch and was sleeping. Jo wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be all right, but more than anything, she wanted to do everything in her power to make sure that everything was, in fact, all right.
She set the drink on her coffee table and found a quilt in her coat closet. Covering Madeline with it, she brushed the hair out of her face. Earlier in the evening, Jo had intended to take Madeline home or to a hotel when she was ready. Now, it just felt right for her to stay here.
“Sweet dreams,” she whispered, hoping that Madeline’s dreams would, indeed, be good ones and that she might have a few hours of peace before hell broke loose. She turned out the light, promising herself as she made her way to her bed that no matter what Madeline needed, she would be by her side.
Chapter Seven
Jo left a note on the end table by the couch and snuck out of the apartment the next morning, leaving Madeline peacefully sleeping.
“Help yourself to anything in the fridge or cabinets. I canceled your appointments today. Call if you need ANYTHING,” she had written, hoping that Madeline would phone if she wanted something from the store, a ride somewhere or someone to talk to.
Now that she was at the office she questioned her decision to come in. What if Madeline woke up and wanted to go somewhere? She didn’t have a car at the house, and she probably wouldn’t want to take a taxi when all eyes in the city would be on her today.
She would go home for lunch, Jo decided. There were a few things on her desk she should care of, but as soon as she got the chance, she would go back home and check on Madeline.
She braced herself before she opened the office door, taking a deep breath. She had no doubt that she’d be hit with a million questions. No one had seen or heard from Madeline since yesterday afternoon—no one but her. And even though she was early to the office as usual, the parking lot had been full already.
She had received text messages and emails from almost everyone on the staff asking about Madeline, but she had not answered unless they had come from people who seemed to genuinely care about the mayor. And Ian, of course, who had said he wanted to see her first thing in the morning. Everyone was trying to be helpful, Jo knew, but much of their interest had seemed superficial and gossipy. Even here at the office, where the atmosphere should have been that of a family, there were those who seemed only to care about the latest rumors and whether or not Madeline would be publicly harmed by the incident.
Jo swung open the office door and walked to her cubicle to put down her things. In less than twenty seconds, the entire staff was standing around her desk, hovering like news reporters. She felt much as she had as a child, surrounded by church pews full of thousands whose judging eyes made it clear they were eager to bite into a juicy morsel of gossip about the pastor’s picture-perfect family. She once again understood what celebrities felt like when they wanted to go buy a carton of milk or walk through the park with their kids but were instead swarmed by people hoping to catch the latest scoop.
“How is she?”
“Is she coming into work today?”
“How’d she take the news?”
“Did she watch the television reports?”
“Are they going to get a divorce?”
Jo stared blankly ahead, allowing the questions to swirl around her for a moment. Finally, she raised her hands.
“Stop, please, and let me speak.” The command was stern, but Jo hoped it was not severe. Miraculously, the chatter stilled. She took a deep breath.
“Some of the things that are happening are Mayor Stratton’s personal business—like whether or not they’ll divorce. I understand that we all share the same concerns about her, but we’ve got to give her some space right now. I was with her yesterday, and she is doing fine. It’s a rough situation, though, and it’s likely to get worse before it gets better. I’m sure she’d appreciate us being respectful of her privacy.”
What about me? Jo wondered. Should I be being more respectful of her privacy? No, she asked me for help. She fell asleep last night and stayed at my apartment.
She steadied her nerves and gripped the edge of her desk. “She won’t be coming in today,” Jo continued. “She needs some time to sort things out.”
Jo surveyed the crowd in front of her desk. No one had moved. “That’s all,” she said, frustration rising in her tone. Like bewildered puppies, they turned and tried to find their ways back to their respective desks. Clearly, this situation had shaken the entire office.
Finally Gabe was the only one remaining. “Meet me in Ian’s office in two minutes,” she whispered before he could speak. “And bring Jacquelyn.” He nodded and left to find the communications director.
Jo was unsure of what she was doing or how she had gotten involved in this whole mess in the first place. She was not a senior staffer, not by any means at the top of the pecking order, but somehow she was in this up to her neck and she knew she
needed to confer with the top staffers. Standing, she walked past Madeline’s office to the office where Ian Thompson, the mayor’s chief of staff, who had flown back into town late last night, was waiting, along with Gabe and Jacquelyn.
She entered and closed the door. Normally, she’d wait to be greeted and exchange pleasantries, but there was really no point in doing that this morning. They needed to know what was happening. As soon as she saw Ian nod, then, she started filling him in.
“I don’t know if I overstepped yesterday,” Jo began. “If so, I apologize. I just knew that Mayor Stratton needed someone to make sure that she was okay.”
“No need, Jo, none at all. I actually wanted to thank you for what you did.” Ian waved his hand, dismissing her concern. “A lot has happened while I’ve been gone, and I appreciate all three of you taking the initiative. Under any other circumstances, I would have been here running this show so you didn’t have to pick up the slack.”
The three of them stood silent, unsure how to respond since the death of one of Ian’s family members was involved.
Without waiting for a reply, he took a seat and continued. “The fact of the matter is that I’m here now, and I think that we can proceed without too much of a media circus. How is she doing now?”
“Well, she’s not coming in today. I had Gabe cancel her meetings, because she looked like she needed some rest.”
“That’s probably best. Good call, Jo. Where is she? Did you take her home last night or to a hotel? Does she need a car to go pick her up?”
Jo had hoped not to get into this. “Actually, she’s at my place. She didn’t want to go home last night, and she fell asleep before I could take her to a hotel.”
If Ian felt awkward about the situation, he didn’t let on at all. “Well, I guess that works,” he said. “But what’s her long-term plan? She’ll have to face it all eventually. I’ll cover things on the political front, but she’ll need to figure out what she’s comfortable with as far as a long-term solution for her living situation.”