by Clancy Nacht
“Mom!”
She was a little buzzed, but he knew she wasn’t trying to be nasty. “What?”
“Sloan didn’t do this, Mom. I made the choice; this is my fault. He didn’t find me; I found him. If you’re going to be angry, be angry with me.”
She walked past him to serve herself another tumbler of scotch. “I am, Upton. I’m furious with you. How could you be so irresponsible? You could have any man! Why are you… Never mind.” She swigged her drink. “Don’t tell me. I’ve had my fill of Bennett rationalizations.”
Cozying up to Sloan, she smiled. “Think about it. You’ll be the new me. You’ll have a husband who you know sees sex workers. You won’t know when he’ll come home, where his overnight trip is. You’ll have to act like you’re surprised when things turn up. Because they will.”
She held up her hands, indicating the floor to ceiling windows. “Someday this would be yours, Sloan. Because the media, the people, they love a good romance.”
Upton sighed. “I can’t believe you’re going to Appalachian Trail this.”
“You did this to yourself. It’s not a perfect plan, but I know Sloan is with me that you would make a great president. Play your cards right, maybe Sloan will be first lady.”
“No.” Sloan smiled, as charming as ever, all white teeth and dimples, but his dark eyes were as cold as a shark’s. Still, his voice was pleasant, deep and resonant, that almost hypnotically mellow tone he used to calm Upton. “I’ll never be first ‘lady’, Mrs. Bennett, and we both know it. I’ll never inherit any of this. You wouldn’t have suggested this if you believed that. I’ll be locked in for five years until my checkered past inevitably breaks us up, after which point Upton will emerge from our broken marriage as a phoenix from the ashes, older and wiser, and in doing so, shed the image of youthful folly that will inevitably accompany me at his side.
“Then he’ll be ready to do some real politics, and just in time to begin laying proper groundwork for an initial presidential bid before forty. Past divorces aren’t held against candidates on the left, not anymore, but I would be. Once I’m far enough in the past, his way is clear. And I’m back in the firing line, looking more desperate than ever for those who’d pick me off.” Sloan’s cheek twitched. “I assume you intend to create an ironclad prenup that pays me out a significant amount after five years so that I’m kept quiet and can continue the lifestyle to which I was accustomed, keeping the wolves from my door. Because obviously the only thing a whore wants out of a relationship is money.”
Mom’s eyes flashed. If there was one thing she liked, it was a fight. “Good. You’re sharp, so I won’t have to soft sell you. Yes, a prenup, with a bonus if you’re not caught cheating. Five years is just my guess for how long it would take, not just for Upton’s aspirations, but we also don’t want the idea of gay marriage to be a punchline. That estimate is for everyone.”
She looked at him anew. “I imagine what you do in those five years will determine how you come out at the end of it. Look at Oliver North; he was a traitor to the nation, and now he has a lucrative radio show and people respect him. Sex work may be offensive to some, but in the gay community? A lot can happen in five years. Anyway, I thought you said you could see him as president? Don’t you want to help make that happen?”
Sloan shrugged and then looked to Upton, holding his gaze. “You haven’t said anything about this, Mr. Future President. Is it worth it to you, marrying a stranger to preserve your chances politically? A whore?”
Beneath the self-assured mask, Upton detected something fragile in Sloan. He seemed like he was holding himself together by sheer will, his eyes haunted in his otherwise neutral face, like he expected the worst.
On the surface, Upton didn’t think he could do much better than Sloan. But in truth, he didn’t know Sloan. He barely knew Zane. “Call me a romantic, but I’d hoped to know the person I was marrying? I only wanted to get married once.”
His mom drew a breath, and he knew what the lecture was going to be. Upton was impractical, young, idealistic. He didn’t feel that young or that idealistic, but then again, he wouldn’t have thought part of the political process would involve marrying a stranger.
“Upton, I know you have limited tolerance for political ploys, but I have to impress on you the serious amount of danger that Sloan is in.”
“I’m not saying I won’t do it.” Upton massaged his temples. “And Sloan, it’s not because of your job, though I work with some of those guys you were….” He shook his head. Maybe this wasn’t the time for honesty, but he didn’t want to start them off with lies stacked upon lies. “And we are strangers. That part is challenging.”
Mom looked between them. “Why don’t I go make some calls? I won’t make any promises, but if Sloan’s accepting my help either way, I can see about getting them to call off their dogs.”
Sloan nodded and studied his empty snifter, not making eye contact with either of them. “I would appreciate that. It’s— I know my career’s over. I know I’m— My face is everywhere. There’s not much I can do with my life at this point. School, even...it’s going to be challenging. But I’m not a quitter, and I’ll keep fighting for my future. I just need to know I have one, that some senatorial goon isn’t going to snatch me from my apartment and plant me in an abandoned field in West Virginia.”
He looked up abruptly and caught Upton’s eye. His expression was pinched, grim. “I’m sorry for all of this. I guess I should’ve known it would catch up to me someday.” Then he looked at Mom and gave her a ghost of a smile. “We’ll try to come to some kind of agreement, ma’am.”
She gave him another of her tight smiles and patted his shoulder. “Feel free to help yourself if you need more to drink. I know this is a tough decision for both of you. A marriage of convenience is not what they write songs and love stories about, but there can be a lot of joy and love.”
Upton took the quick hug she gave him on her way out and then turned to Sloan, gesturing to his glass. “Do you want a refill? I was going to get some water for myself, if you’d rather that. Might be some juice or something in the fridge.”
Sloan shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m...” He swallowed and averted his gaze. “I’m fine, thanks.”
It probably wasn’t a great sign that Sloan wasn’t even looking at him, but when Upton started for the kitchen, Sloan stood to follow him. He left his empty snifter on the coffee table and trailed after him, looking around the house with a flat expression that betrayed no particular curiosity.
Then Sloan said, quietly, “If there’s another way for you to rise above this scandal, take it. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll disappear if I have to.” His lips twitched, more a grimace than a smile. “Go back home.”
“Hey, no. No.” Upton stopped his forward motion to the kitchen and turned to embrace Sloan, then stopped, not sure if he’d want that or not. “No disappearing, all right? That is not an option. Let’s just talk. I mean, at my level, with politics and infamy, or fame, or whatever you want to call it, I just want to… put it out there… to you… that I could do a lot worse for a husband. We do have quite a bit in common. And don’t feel guilty. It’s just as likely that I brought this on us, okay? I’m not blaming you. Blame rarely does anyone any good.”
Sloan stared at Upton for a few long, silent moments, his expression unreadable even to Upton. Then he broke into a crooked little smile and lifted a hand to stroke the backs of his fingers over Upton’s cheek briefly. “You really are a good man, aren’t you?”
Then Sloan brushed past him, continuing down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Upton’s cheeks heated as he followed Sloan. He took out a glass and filled it with water and ice. Then he led them to the sunny kitchen nook. He gestured to a chair, and when Sloan sat, Upton settled across from him. “So, outside all this, ignoring the forced nature of this proposal, what are your thoughts on marriage, in general? Was that something you wanted out of life? Was that part of your postgra
duate plan?”
Lips twitching unhappily, Sloan glanced at Upton and then out the window. “Marriage wasn’t something I ever imagined, no. It didn’t seem like it would ever be legal, and I just...” Sloan shrugged. “I started doing sex work when I was 18. Eight years I’ve been doing this. As much as I’ve always intended to fight for better treatment of sex workers, legalization, regulation, protection... I knew when I started this that I’d have a hard time holding onto a relationship in this line of work. A lot of people can’t get past the stigma, and the ones that can struggle with their insecurity or jealousy or both.”
Sloan finally looked at Upton, a wry smile on his face. “When SCOTUS legalized gay marriage, I thought, ‘Maybe, someday, when I’ve put this behind me, when I’m a lobbyist,’ and I thought, ‘Maybe, then, I’ll meet someone who can handle my history, someone worth being with forever, worth loving.’ But I wasn’t holding my breath. Clients may fall in love with the idea of me, but I’m not Zane. He’s part of me, the seductive part, one I can use when I need to, but me... I’m just a country boy trying to survive. No one’s ever been in love with Sloan.”
When Sloan paused, Upton realized it was the most he’d ever gotten out of him at once. Then Sloan asked, “What about you? You fought for gay marriage a long time. Surely you’d envisioned something.”
“Oh, I did. In the back of my mind, I guess I wondered, worried that it would wind up being for political expediency, but I had fantasies of a handsome man at my side who looked at me as not a ticket onward and upward, but as boring, nerdy Upton. Who more than accepted that I was likely to be up until three in the morning discussing infrastructure, but was into it. I thought it would be someone older, not that I have a particular attraction to older men. Probably some lingering daddy issues. Before I was elected, I thought it would be romantic to be with an ambassador. Really goofy, vague things.”
Upton reached across the table to Sloan. “I like what I know of Sloan. He’s not in direct opposition to my thoughts on marriage, but insecurity could be an issue that could require some patience on your part.”
Sloan looked down at Upton’s hand, studying it, and then at Upton’s face as if he wasn’t certain he wanted to be touched. Then he took Upton’s hand with touching gravity, like he was choosing sides and had picked Upton’s. “Do you...?”
He trailed off, looking briefly anxious, and then gave him a crooked little grin that seemed less genuine and more required for continued sanity. “Do you want to talk about what the next five years could look like, if we do this? I’ve got a year and a half to go on my masters. I don’t know if my contacts with volunteerships will repudiate me after this. I was expecting to live in D.C. for the foreseeable future, do a semester abroad for the international portion of my policy course, and then focus on building a reputation as a lobbyist. That’s my five-year plan. I could fit you into that easily enough. What’s yours look like?”
Upton’s heart fluttered. Could this be real? Would they actually do this? The idea made him nervous, but also a little excited. He definitely liked Sloan, what he knew of him anyway. If they’d met under other circumstances, maybe he would’ve asked him out.
No, Upton probably wouldn’t have. He would’ve assumed a man like Sloan wouldn’t be interested in someone as dull as Upton.
“I’m sure Mom’s polling to see what voter tolerance is going to be with this scandal. Those numbers are likely to change over time, depending on how this plays out. Before this, the idea was another term as a Rep. The governorship comes up again midway through next term, so ideally, I’d get that position, which would take me out of being mostly in D.C. After a term or two of successful governorship, I’d make a presidential run.”
Upton squeezed Sloan’s hand gently. “Mom disagrees, but I think it’s more likely I’d wind up on a ticket as VP. Let people warm to a gay atheist president by seeing me in that secondary role. She doesn’t like that since, in modern history, VPs don’t typically get elected as president.”
“She has a lot of say over your life, doesn’t she?” Sloan’s voice was pitched low, like he was afraid she’d overhear.
“She does have a lot of influence on me. She’s a fixer, best in the business. Every successful, ambitious politician has one in their corner, and if they’re smart, they’ll listen.” Upton was used to people thinking he was a momma’s boy. He was, in a lot of ways, but he didn’t think it was a bad thing.
Sloan rubbed his thumb over the back of Upton’s hand. “Listen, I understand this might be a political necessity for you, and I don’t want to be famous as the whore that tanked your career. The fact being connected to you brings me safety and financial security when my own career’s just been torpedoed by the media... This might be our best choice. It sounds so crazy, but...”
He stared at their joined hands and sighed. Then he glanced up at Upton from beneath those long black lashes. “I think I could be a good partner. We can craft a persona for me to wear, and I can be that person in public for as long as I need to be. Your mom wasn’t wrong about that, about me selling a version of myself for a living. The question is... Can you do that and still live with yourself? Because you seem like a genuine person in politics, as unbelievable as I still find that, and I don’t want to be responsible for destroying a unicorn.”
Upton grinned at Sloan, relishing the simple touch. “I have a public persona, too. You’ve actually seen, um, and I don’t mean in a... “
This was difficult to articulate. Upton’s face burned as he thought of those two nights with Zane. “You’ve already seen more of the genuine me than most people will ever know. At least, in some ways. And even that was with a bit of a mask. ‘Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.’ I bet you’ve seen plenty of that.”
He still hadn’t quite answered the question. “The point is, we all sell versions of ourselves. I have to in order to face the press, face colleagues… This situation is what it is. It’ll be difficult no matter what you and I decide to do. Can I sell us being in love?”
Upton sighed and looked up. That wasn’t part of himself that he’d ever really had to package for public consumption. His heart and his head hurt. Intellectualizing the situation was so much easier than thinking about cuddling on television. Not that Sloan was the problem, but Upton had never imagined himself doing that with anyone. Picturing his love life up for the judgement of the viewing public had never been appealing.
Then he looked at Sloan, thought of the bright career ahead of him, one that might not occur if Upton didn’t pull himself together. His gaze moved to their joined hands. He brought his other hand over to rest atop Sloan’s and nodded.
“I think the real question is…” Upton slid from his chair, keeping their hands clasped as he stretched to sidestep the table. He dropped to one knee and gazed up into Sloan’s eyes. His pulse raced. Was he going to creep Sloan out?
But Upton needed this moment, even if everything was going to be fake. His eyes watered as emotion swept over him. This wasn’t a question he’d imagined asking, but now he was here, and this was the moment. A moment, anyway. Something that might take some of the sting out of the cold, calculated move.
“Will you marry me?”
Sloan stared at Upton with wide eyes, mouth open. Rapidly he smoothed his expression into a smile, and then he clasped his free hand over his heart as if touched. “Yes. Yes, I will, Upton.”
He moved his hand to Upton’s shoulder and pushed him backward before slipping from the chair to sink onto the floor beside him. He pressed their foreheads together and brushed his lips against Upton’s, soft and hot and tender, and then turned his face into Upton’s hair and hugged him. It felt so real, so sincere, and it echoed their previous embraces, all of it a confusing jumble.
Upton clung to Sloan, emotions bubbling over. Even if their love wasn’t real, it was nice to be able to hold him right now. “It really will be us versus the world for a while.” He
sniffled. “Sorry, this is really emotional for me, but it does mean a lot that you’re willing to… and… you know, I’ll try to help and be there for you.”
He buried his face against Sloan’s neck. “And whatever you need, all right? You just tell me, and I’ll do my best to be a good husband.” He squeezed tighter, relieved and strangely elated. “Whatever we decide ‘husband’ will mean.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Sloan stroked Upton’s hair with one hand and his back with the other, holding him close. “If I was picking teams for the political apocalypse, I’d definitely have chosen you. At least there’s that.” Sloan scoffed, his broad chest vibrating against Upton with the sound. “This is crazy. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I hope your mom’s as good as you say.”
“Not to be too morbid, but after what happened to my dad, if she didn’t think this would guarantee your safety, she wouldn’t have me sitting next to you.” Gallows humor, though not really a joke. “We can discuss security options if you’re still worried when it’s time for you to head back to class.”
Upton released his grip on Sloan enough to look at him. “This is definitely crazy.” This wasn’t where Upton pictured this relationship ending up. At best, he thought they’d make some hot, sexy legislation together, and maybe after Sloan had graduated and moved on, they’d be colleagues. “And look, it may not seem like it, but she likes you. She resents you, but I think she, like me, is glad that if it was anyone, that it’s you.”
“If you say so.” Sloan smiled as if not quite convinced, and then stood before reaching down to help Upton to his feet. “Guess we should go tell her the good news then, fiancé.”
“Yes. God, she’ll probably have a ring and have already booked somewhere to have the ceremony. She’s good, I’m telling you.” Upton grinned despite his jumbled emotions. He was going to make the best of this situation, even if it scared him.
Chapter 5