Conservative Affairs

by Scott, Riley

  As Jo pulled into the driveway outside of the house, Madeline was thankful to see that John’s car was not there. This, at least, would be quick and easy. She would grab her things and leave. Later on, after the dust had settled and the paperwork was drawn up and signed, she would return to take whatever she needed and never again come back to this place…The House of Broken Dreams, she decided to call it.

  Jo helped her from the passenger side of the vehicle, her hand steadying her. She was thankful for the support, even though she was overly aware of the tenderness of Jo’s touch. A strong, independent woman, Madeline rarely admitted, even to herself, that she needed help, but she was honestly not sure that she could have survived the events of the past day without Jo’s help.

  There was kindness and compassion in everything Jo did. Madeline had come to rely upon it, actually. If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to spend the night at a hotel. In fact, there was nothing she wanted less than to be utterly and completely alone. But it didn’t seem right to continue to hole up in Jo’s apartment, intruding on her privacy.

  Jo didn’t speak, didn’t push, as they went through the house, packing clothes and toiletries, and for that Madeline was thankful. Jo’s intuition was strong enough to sense when words weren’t necessary. It was a trait Madeline valued greatly.

  Madeline tried, as she and Jo went through the house, to remember the good times she and John had shared there, however long ago that might have been. Over and over, though, the truth came spewing forth like a gusher in the oil field, reminding her that life wasn’t fair. Not every story had a happy ending. A love that seemed good—great even—could fall apart in front of your eyes, leaving you with nothing but a packed suitcase and the memory of silent glances, separate bedrooms, looks that said, “I don’t love you anymore.” She and John had become roommates who hated each other. There was no more passion, not even kindness. Whatever spark of friendship they had once shared had burned out and grown cold.

  Madeline let out a long sigh. “That should do it for now,” she said. She heard a car door shut outside. “Dammit, let’s go.” They gathered her suitcase and cosmetics bag and went out the back door.

  Madeline couldn’t get over the fact that she was fleeing her own house. It was all so ridiculous, but she did not want to see John again, not under any circumstances.

  When they rounded the corner of the house, though, instead of seeing John’s car she saw three unfamiliar vehicles. She craned her neck to make out the faces of the people standing at her front door. As soon as she saw their cameras, she pulled back, prepared to run back into the house and hide out until they left. But she had stared a moment too long and was spotted.

  Apparently, reporters could move at the speed of light. Before she could get even a few steps away, they were at her side. One was snapping pictures, while another was thrusting a microphone in her face and signaling to her cameraman to start filming.

  “Mayor Stratton, did you know that your husband was having an affair?”

  Madeline stared at her, dumbfounded, recognizing the co-anchor of the evening news at KWWG, the largest station in the city. This story clearly was a much bigger one than she had hoped it would be.

  The reporter, an experienced interviewer, tried again. “Let me rephrase that. Do you know this woman?” She held up the picture of a gorgeous blond.

  Once again, Madeline didn’t speak, but the shock she felt was most likely evident on her face. She hoped they would interpret it as dismay at being confronted with the reality of her husband’s cheating, but yes, she knew the woman in the picture. All too well, unfortunately.

  “If you’re not staying here, where are you staying? In a hotel?”

  A reporter clutching a pen and pad chimed in. “Yes, which one? We’ve checked for you at each of them.”

  “You haven’t been seen out and about since we broke the story yesterday about your husband’s affair. Are you still fulfilling your duties as mayor? Do you plan to seek reelection next year?”

  Madeline had seen this trick many times, reporters firing so many questions at you at once that you felt compelled to answer at least one to shut them up. Even if she wanted to, though, she found she couldn’t speak.

  “Do you plan to file for divorce?” the sweaty man with the pen and pad asked.

  Before another question could be fired her way, Jo positioned herself between the reporters and Madeline.

  “That’ll be all for the questions today,” Jo spoke with ease despite the stressful situation. “Mayor Stratton is saddened by the news of her husband’s infidelity. Betrayal in a relationship is never an easy thing to deal with, but the mayor is a strong woman, with a strong faith, and her office has issued a statement on this issue. If you have further questions, please direct them to Jacquelyn Smalledge, the mayor’s communications director.”

  Jo forced a tightlipped smile and practically marched Madeline to the car.

  Madeline was amazed by Jo’s poise and strength. “Thank you,” she offered. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

  Jo just smiled and nodded, putting the car in gear and quickly driving away from Madeline’s house. Followed by a caravan of relentless reporters, unfortunately.

  “Who the hell do they think they are, paparazzi chasing Brangelina or Kimye?” Jo asked.

  “You’d be amazed at how often this happens.” Madeline’s reply sounded sad and tired, even to her own ears.

  “Well, I know two things for certain,” Jo replied. “First, you should hold on, because I’m going to lose them. And secondly, I’m not taking you to a hotel for those vultures to rip you to shreds the first time you come out of your room.”

  Madeline didn’t reply, but she was touched by the gesture and by how much Jo seemed to genuinely care.

  “You’re coming back home with me, and you can stay as long as you’d like.” Jo’s voice was defiant, as though nothing could change her mind at this point. Madeline wasn’t about to try. Even though there was no doubt that the media was now on to the fact that Jo was accompanying the mayor wherever she went. Madeline watched as Jo flipped the car into overdrive. As if she were a professional stunt driver, Jo began to whip the Camaro into back alleys and side streets. In a matter of minutes, they were alone, parked in the underground parking garage of an office complex.

  Madeline hadn’t felt that kind of a rush in a long time. “You are incredible.” She smiled at Jo. Jo beamed as if she had just been crowned as Miss America.

  As Madeline’s heart rate slowed to normal, she glanced down. It was only then that she realized she was holding Jo’s hand. At some point during the excitement, she must have grabbed it. Jo seemed to realize at the same moment. Quietly, each pulled her hand away from the other’s.

  Madeline couldn’t explain it, but she still felt the warmth of Jo’s hand in hers. I wonder what it would be like to kiss her. She immediately looked out the side window, embarrassed, as if Jo could read her thoughts.

  Jo cleared her throat. “We should probably wait in here for a good twenty minutes or so before we venture back out, just in case they’re lurking around somewhere.”

  “I just want to make sure you have your privacy,” Jo added.

  “Thank you, Jo—for everything. You really are too kind.” To Madeline’s ears, her words seemed laced with embarrassment. She hoped that Jo heard only her sincere appreciation.

  * * *

  Jo couldn’t stop remembering how it had felt to have her fingers intertwined with Madeline’s, something that had happened shortly after Jo had slipped their pursuers and turned into the garage. The minute Madeline’s hand had grazed hers, Jo had felt electricity shoot through her body, warming and tensing every part of her. This woman was driving her crazy.

  As soon as Madeline had noticed she was holding and gently massaging Jo’s hand, though, a look of embarrassment and terror had clouded her face. Jo looked away to downplay the moment and ease Madeline’s embarrassment. The truth was,
she had been enjoying every moment of being physically—if totally innocently—connected to Madeline.

  Hating how the moment had turned so quickly awkward, she decided to change the subject. She turned in her seat to face Madeline.

  “Is there anything you want me to tell the press or write in a statement?”

  Madeline stared back at Jo, but it was obvious she hadn’t heard a word coming out of Jo’s mouth. Jo shivered at the intensity in Madeline’s blue eyes and shivered again as Madeline cupped her face with shaking hands, very gently pulled her closer and kissed her. The shock Jo felt was overpowered by her deep need to have Madeline’s mouth on hers. Madeline didn’t pull away, so Jo deepened the kiss. Madeline’s hands were tangled in Jo’s hair, pulling Jo even closer.

  The intensity of the moment was broken when the car next to them rumbled to a start.

  “Shit,” Madeline said, pulling away and putting her head down. Jo turned and looked at the car pulling out of the adjacent space.

  The man in the driver’s seat wasn’t paying any attention to them. He didn’t even cast them a sidelong glance.

  “It’s okay,” Jo said, putting her hand on Madeline’s shoulder. “He didn’t see anything.”

  “I’m sorry.” Madeline looked away from Jo. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Jo didn’t regret the kiss. The only regret she had was the sudden hesitation and the disappointment displayed on Madeline’s face. “Don’t apologize,” Jo said, shaking her head. “It was as much me as it was you.”

  The hot and cold nature of Madeline’s signs of affection had had Jo wondering if she was imagining that things were changing between them. There was no way she could have imagined a kiss that powerful, however.

  She started the car. “I’m sure the press is off the trail now. We might as well go home.”

  On the drive back, Jo wanted to revel in the fact that Madeline had kissed her, wanted to relive every moment of those soft lips pressed against hers with Madeline’s tongue sweetly caressing Jo’s bottom lip. But she couldn’t help but recognize that Madeline was not reveling in anything that had happened. The look on her face signaled that she was mortified and needed her space. Jo vowed to try to give it to her.

  Chapter Nine

  Just because Jo looked like an angel didn’t mean she was one. That’s what Jacquelyn kept reminding herself as she once again typed “Jo Carson” into the Google toolbar of her computer screen.

  Since it had become apparent that Madeline wanted nothing to do with any of her staff except for her new little pet, Jacquelyn had made it her mission to discover more about Jo. She wanted to know something she could use against her if she needed to do so.

  It wasn’t so much that she wanted to get Jo fired, but if she did, she wouldn’t have to worry about Madeline replacing her. That wasn’t all that farfetched, unfortunately. When she was Madeline’s go-to person, the times she’d screwed up at work had been overlooked. Now, though, it would only take a couple of wrong moves, and Jo could easily slide into the position of communications director, leaving Jacquelyn out in the cold. Without this job and without Madeline’s recommendation, Jacquelyn would have to start all over. She hadn’t put in years of hard work to start back at the bottom of the ladder.

  For the second time today, she scrolled through the list of websites, looking to see if she’d missed something. There wasn’t anything really helpful—nothing out of the ordinary. All the information online was stuff she already knew. Jo was the daughter of Michael Carson, the pastor of a mega-church in Tulsa and a former resident of Oklahoma City. She had been a bridesmaid in several weddings. There were freelance columns written by Jo, her Facebook page, media from various awards she had won during college. Everything there was squeaky clean.

  “I’m screwed,” she said to herself.

  Perhaps she should stop by Jo’s house to check in on her and see how she was doing. Jo might find it suspicious, but if Madeline were there, she might think it was a nice gesture. It would give her the chance to see how Jo lived too. Maybe she wasn’t as squeaky clean as everyone thought. She’d do some asking around to see if any of the local bartenders knew her as a regular. If so, did she leave with strange men all the time? Was she perhaps an alcoholic? There had to be some area of Jacquelyn’s life that she could say was superior to Jo Carson’s.

  Jacquelyn mulled these ideas over for a bit, then decided she would have a beer and make more important decisions later.

  * * *

  Back at her apartment, Jo fixed Madeline a cup of vanilla chai, then went to work making her favorite comfort food, double chocolate brownies. She hummed while she cooked, glancing over occasionally at Madeline, who was sitting at the kitchen table. She appeared deep in thought. She tried to smile anytime she met Jo’s gaze but she couldn’t mask the turmoil she was feeling.

  “What can I do?” Jo asked.

  “You’ve done more than anyone,” Madeline said, her voice sad.

  “But is there anything else you need? Do you want to talk about it? Do you want me to shut the hell up?” Jo felt as though she were trying to cheer up one of her nieces or nephews. Which was stupid. A trip to the ice cream store wasn’t going to make everything all better.

  Madeline took a deep breath. “I’m just so hurt and confused,” she finally offered.

  Jo nodded. “Confused about what?”

  “Well, it’s just…I’m not sure that I’m supposed to feel how I feel right now.”

  “Okay?”

  “I mean, I’m not stupid. I saw the signs that my marriage was in trouble a long time ago. And don’t get me wrong, I’m very hurt that John was seeing someone else. But my feelings get a little more complex after that.”

  Jo waited in silence.

  “I feel somewhat relieved, I guess.” Madeline sighed. “It sounds awful, I know, but I just feel as though I can now move on with my life.”

  “That’s not awful.” Jo waited for Madeline to continue.

  “It means that there will be no more hate-filled looks over breakfast and no more coexisting before heading off to separate bedrooms for the night.”

  Jo’s heart broke. She had no idea that Madeline had been suffering through anything that severe.

  “It also means there won’t be anyone around. It’ll be lonely. There was some comfort in having John there, even if we were unhappy.” A single tear trickled down Madeline’s cheek.

  “You won’t be all alone, you know?” Jo offered. “I know I’m one of your staff and that you may not see me as a friend right now, but I’ll be here if you need anything—even after you move past this step.”

  The tears fell harder. “Of course you’re my friend, Jo. In fact, it feels like you’re the only friend I have right now.” Madeline stood and excused herself to the bathroom. Minutes later, she returned, composed again and having scrubbed the mascara streaks off of her face.

  “I’m sorry, Jo. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that. You’re just such a good listener.”

  Jo had made a special effort to keep distance between the two of them since the hand-holding incident and the kiss, but now she crossed the room and hugged Madeline.

  “Don’t apologize. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to laugh, laugh. There are no rules here right now. It’s just about you feeling better.”

  The timer for the oven dinged. “Let me get the pan out of the oven, and then we’ll have brownies with our chai,” Jo told her. As she turned back to the oven, she began to hum again.

  “What is that you’re humming?” Madeline asked.

  “Just a song stuck in my head.” Jo grabbed a potholder and removed the brownies from the oven. “It’s by Sugarland,” Jo added.

  “Will you sing it for me?” Madeline asked.

  “I’m not sure you want that,” Jo replied with a wink.

  “Actually, I do. I’ve been wanting to hear your voice again since I caught you singing in the office. You truly are talented, Jo.”

  Jo smiled
at the compliment. She didn’t sing in front of just anyone, not since her church choir days had passed.

  “Please,” Madeline pressed.

  Jo began to sing.

  “‘I’ve been beaten up and bruised, yeah, and I’ve been kicked right off my shoes…’”

  Jo paused, realizing why the song had been stuck in her head all day. It very accurately portrayed the situation Madeline was going through right now.

  As she continued through the chorus, she watched as Madeline fought back tears. Finishing up, Jo looked deeply into her eyes. “‘…tears may fill my eyes, but I’ll stand back up.’”

  Jo let her voice trail off, as she dished up two warm brownies and covered them with a scoop of ice cream.

  “That was beautiful.” Madeline’s voice was sincere. “It was a pretty good fit on the song too. Thank you.”

  “Thanks. Here you go.” She smiled at Madeline, handing her the dish. “Therapy in a bowl.”

  They settled into their chairs, and the mood was lighter than it had been before. Jo silently attributed the peacefulness to the brownies. Chocolate had healing powers, she was certain.

  Madeline’s mood had eased noticeably as well.

  “So let’s get back to our ‘getting to know Jo’ conversation,” Madeline said.

  “Sounds a little boring to me, but okay. What do you want to know?” It was a dangerous question, and Jo knew it. But after the kiss they had shared, she had decided Madeline deserved to know the truth. Only if she asked, though. Jo wouldn’t volunteer the information.

  “Let’s see,” Madeline teased. “How many questions do I get?”

  Jo thought this over in her head. “Seven,” she answered.

  “Why seven?”

  “It’s a lucky number.” Jo took a bite of her brownie. “And now you’re down to six questions.”

  “Damn, I guess I’ll have to be more careful.”

  Jo nodded.

  “So when you were a kid, what did you want to be? Was it always a political speechwriter?” Madeline asked and they each laughed.