Breaking the Story

by Ashley Farley

  “What happened?”

  He rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down on her. “I never had a serious girlfriend before Sarah. I was always too busy working at the ranch or playing sports or practicing my guitar.”

  “That’s interesting. I never would have taken you for a musician.”

  “Believe it or not, I actually belonged to a couple different bands. I fancied myself a modern-day Eric Clapton. But Sarah ruined that for me too.”

  “Bitch.”

  His gray eyes turned cloudy. “You got that right.”

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I want to tell you. I don’t want to hold anything back from you.” Guy rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. “I belonged to this band at UNC, a classic rock group. Mostly we played at fraternity parties, but we had our sights set on fame and glory. We were gonna be the new millennium’s equivalent to the Rolling Stones. Then Sarah started sleeping with the lead singer, who at the time was one of my best friends.”

  “That’s brutal, Guy. I’m so sorry.” Scottie curled up next to him, offering the warmth of her body for comfort.

  “Thanks.” He wrapped his arm around her, hugging her tight. “I learned something from that painful episode, just like all the other challenges I’ve faced or heartaches I’ve experienced in my life. If not for Sarah, I’d be just another wannabe musician, traveling around the country, getting drunk every night while playing music in smoky bars. I believe that most things happen for a reason.” He ran his fingers up and down her arm. “I sense that may be the case for you with the breakup of your marriage.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You’re fine.” She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of the blanket. “And I agree with you that most things happen for a reason. Like Sarah, Brad did me a favor by sleeping with another woman. But the breakup of my marriage isn’t the thing that’s caused me the most heartache. And I’ve yet to decide what reason this thing happened for.”

  “I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it.”

  Scottie turned on her side, facing away from him. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes when she told him about Mary. “A year ago this past March, I had a late-term miscarriage that changed my perspective on life.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I appreciate that. It was a difficult time for me. After the death of my child, my desperation to have a baby consumed me, so much so that I committed a crime that would have sent me to prison if I’d been caught.”

  Guy kissed her neck, signaling to her that he was listening.

  “Last Christmas, I was photographing a group of homeless people in Monroe Park, in downtown Richmond, for a gallery opening I was working on, when I stumbled upon a woman’s dead body. Lying next to the woman, in her cardboard tent, was her four-month old child. I freaked out, of course, and called out for help, but my homeless friends took off running.”

  “To avoid the police.”

  “Exactly. I couldn’t call 911, because I’d accidentally left my cell phone at home. Thinking only of getting her somewhere safe and warm until the authorities could identify the body and notify the next of kin, I picked the baby up and brought her home with me. To make a very long story short, over the course of the next few days, I bonded with the baby in a way that clouded my judgment. I convinced myself the baby was better off with me, even when her grandparents were located. I was preparing to leave town, to lead a life on the run in order to keep the baby, when my brother saved me from myself.”

  “Will?”

  Scottie turned to face him. “How did you know his name?”

  He outlined her lips with his fingertip. “You talk about him all the time, so much so you don’t even realize you’re talking about him.”

  “Will and I are close. I think the two of you would get along well. I hope someday you get a chance to meet.”

  “What did Will do to save you from yourself?”

  “He came up with a way for me to return the baby to her grandparents and avoid the police.”

  “So the police knew of your involvement?”

  “Sort of. They got a tip about a camera lady who frequented the park, but they never figured out that I was the camera lady.”

  “I can’t imagine how difficult it was for you to give the baby up. Have you kept in touch with the grandparents?”

  “No. They were grateful to me for taking care of their granddaughter, but I don’t think they trusted me enough to let me be a part of Mary’s life. Honestly, I’m not sure it would’ve been good for me either. I needed to make a clean break.”

  “What was Brad’s position on all of this?”

  “He was out of town visiting family when I discovered the baby. He refused to support me when he found out about Mary. He walked out on me.”

  His breath tickled her neck. “This is none of my business, but why’d you get back together with him after that?”

  “Because I found out I was pregnant.”

  19

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “What happened to the baby? Did you have another miscarriage?”

  She nodded. “For a grand total of three. I may never be able to carry a baby to term.”

  “You could always adopt.”

  “Brad is against adoption,” she said. “Well… I guess that’s no longer my concern.”

  “What’s wrong with adoption? The way I see it, when you enter into the partnership of marriage, you make a pact for better and for worse. If one partner is infertile, you work together to consider all your options, just as you would if you were diagnosed with cancer.”

  “That’s easy for you to say now, Guy. But I doubt you’d feel that way if you found out you couldn’t pass on your most admirable qualities to your offspring—your athletic abilities or your musical talents.” Rolling onto her back, she traced his lips with her finger. “Your dazzling smile or your smoky gray eyes. It’s an ego thing for men to see themselves in their children, especially their sons. It proves their manhood and validates their identity.”

  “That’s unfair, Scottie. You’re bitter now, and you have every right to be, but you can’t judge every man you meet against your husband’s pathetic standards.”

  She wanted to believe Guy was one of the good guys, like her father and Will, but she didn’t know him well enough yet.

  She snuggled in closer to him. “We can’t fall asleep here, you know.”

  He moaned. “But it’s so nice with the moonlight and the waves crashing.”

  “Do you seriously want the early-morning fitness freaks jogging past our naked bodies?”

  He ran his hand across the blanket. “Our naked bodies are covered, need I remind you.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m serious, Guy.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “We’ll move in a minute.”

  Scottie closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the sun was full-on in the morning sky, building energy to scorch the earth with hundred-degree heat. The beach appeared deserted except for the seagulls pecking at the Doritos package by their feet and the ghost crab scuttling across the sand near Guy’s head.

  Scottie felt under the blanket for her clothes. She dressed quickly, sans underwear, and gently shook Guy awake.

  Shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked up at her. “Morning, gorgeous.” He tried to pull her to him, but she pushed him away. “I feel so gross, Guy. I’m covered in sand. Can we go somewhere to get cleaned up?”

  He sat up and looked around. “No doubt a shower would be awesome right about now.”

  He slipped on his shorts and shook the sand off the blankets while Scottie gathered their empty cans and stuffed them in a nearby trash barrel.

  “Let’s get our things out of the car,” Guy said. “I have an idea of where we
might find a shower.”

  They retrieved a change of clothes, their toiletries, and the towels Scottie had purchased from Wal-Mart and traipsed back down to the beach, heading in the direction opposite the senator’s rental house. “Where are we going?” she asked, struggling to keep up with him as he hurried down the beach.

  “Most of these houses have outdoor showers. If we can find one that’s vacant…”

  “That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard,” Scottie said. “But I’m so desperate to be clean, I’m not going to argue with you.”

  “There are no cars in the driveway at this house.” As he started up the sandy path, over his shoulder he called, “And this one has a pool and a pool house.” She followed him to the house. He checked the knob on the pool house door. “Too bad it’s locked.”

  Scottie eyed the aqua blue water in the pool. “Why don’t we get naked and jump in the pool?”

  “As much as I like the idea of going skinny-dipping with you, I’d rather shower with clean water. Let’s walk down the beach a little farther. If we don’t find something soon, we’ll come back.”

  They tried again at a more modest-looking home two doors down. A center bay garage with surrounding storage rooms occupied the first floor of the house. Scottie and Guy began opening and closing doors. One storage room housed a rusty grill and fishing equipment while another was packed full with boogie boards and beach chairs. Scottie peeked inside the last room. “Bingo,” she said, holding the door open wide for Guy to see the fully equipped bathroom.

  Guy clasped his hands together. “There is a God.”

  “And not a moment too soon,” Scottie said, heading straight for the toilet stall.

  He started the water in the shower. “We should probably shower together to save time,” he said to Scottie when she finished in the toilet. “Just in case someone comes, you know.”

  Eager to rinse the sand off her body, she agreed. “But no funny stuff.” She stripped naked, grabbed her bottles of shampoo and liquid soap, and stepped into the shower.

  Guy stood in the corner of the shower, out of the way, while Scottie performed her routine. When she finished, he quickly washed and rinsed his hair and limbs. She was stepping out of the shower when he reached for her, backing her into the corner. “Not so fast.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He took her with as much force as their slippery bodies allowed with a sense of urgency even greater than the night before. He pressed his mouth against hers to stifle her cries as she experienced wave after wave of ecstasy.

  Afterwards, they clung to one another, letting the warm water massage their bodies. He lifted a wet lock of hair out of her face. “I’m pretty sure they heard you screaming all the way down on the beach.”

  “Good. Give them something to think about.” She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so naughty.

  He dressed in front of the steamy mirror while she brushed her teeth and worked the tangles out of her curly hair.

  “You’re not seriously gonna wear that, are you?” she asked when he zipped the leather biker’s vest over his bare chest.

  “Hell yeah, I am.” He ran his hands down the sides of the vest. “I paid fifty bucks for this beauty.”

  “Actually, I’m the one who wasted fifty bucks on that tacky garment. You’re gonna burn up in those blue jeans, you know?” Scottie put on her black bikini, and then slipped on a pair of faded cutoff blue jeans and a white ribbed tank top.

  “Sweet, a wife beater. You can be my biker chick,” he said, nibbling playfully at her neck.

  Scottie braided her hair into two pigtails, and then tied a pink bandanna over her head, kerchief-style.

  Guy’s face lit up. “A do-rag. That’s what I need. Do you have another one of those?”

  “Sure.” Scottie tossed him a red bandanna. “But I’m gonna pretend like I don’t know you if you actually wear it.”

  He covered his head with the bandanna and tied it at the base of his neck. “I look dope,” he said, admiring his reflection in the mirror.

  Scottie rolled her eyes, but secretly she thought he looked hot, leather vest and all.

  *

  After the previous two days, Scottie and Guy appreciated the limited travel and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere at the events. The rally in New Bern was much like the ones in Virginia, with most of Middle Street blocked off for an old-fashioned town fair. It seemed as though everyone from Eastern North Carolina was in attendance to hear Caine’s impassioned speech. Scottie and Guy worked the crowds, but no one who remotely resembled Brosnan turned up.

  The senator spent the afternoon on the beaches. Clad in navy walking shorts and a plain white T-shirt, a straw hat with a red scarf tied around the band to protect her face, she hit all the popular spots—arcades and amusement parks, fishing piers and ice cream parlors.

  Guy exchanged his biker costume for his bathing suit. Coated in sunscreen, barefoot and holding hands, Scottie and Guy trailed the candidate’s entourage at a safe distance. Time was running out, but her mission no longer seemed as important. She’d done the one thing she promised herself she wouldn’t do. She’d fallen for Guy. And hard.

  “I refuse to sleep in the car again tonight,” Scottie said as they followed the Cruiser back across the causeway at the end of the day. “I don’t care if I miss the perfect shot of Caine and Brosnan in a lover’s embrace.”

  “I agree.” He took a right onto West Fort Macon Road and pulled into the parking lot of a seedy-looking motel.

  “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Scottie said.

  Guy killed the engine. “I hate to tell you, but this is the best we’re gonna get.” He opened his door to get out. “Shall I book one room or two?”

  “At the risk of sounding like a slut, one.” She fished her credit card out of her wallet. “Deluxe oceanfront with a king bed, please.” She held the credit card out to him, but he waved it away.

  “A gentleman never takes advantage of a lady on her dime.”

  20

  Two hours later, Scottie and Guy lay entangled in each other’s arms, drowsy from their lovemaking. “I don’t want to move. Let’s skip tonight’s event and order in a pizza,” Scottie said.

  “Normally I would say hell yeah, bring it on. I’d like nothing more than to spend the evening curled up with you. But I have a feeling tonight might be our night to find our man.”

  “You do, do you?” she asked, lifting her head off his chest. “Is this testosterone-driven intuition or is it based on information you’ve obtained from an insider?”

  “Neither. It’s a proven fact that fundraisers attract self-important men like Brosnan, much more so than free-to-anyone street carnivals like the others we’ve attended in the past three days.”

  “There you go talking like a campaign worker again.”

  Guy drew in a deep breath. No time like the present. He wanted his relationship with Scottie to last, more than anything he’d wanted in a long time, but he couldn’t keep the truth from her any longer. “That’s because I am one. I work for the GOP, Scottie. Andrew Blackmore is my boss.”

  Scottie stared at him, her expression impassive, without even a blink of her sexy eyelashes. And then she rolled over on her side, putting her back to him. “Are you like a campaign worker or something?”

  I need to be careful here, he thought. Less is best. “Or something.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “Come on, Scottie. From the beginning, you’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about politicians. The first night we met, at the Jefferson, you told me, and I quote, ‘Most politicians I know are self-serving, backstabbing egomaniacs.’ I wanted to impress you. No way was I going to confess my profession after a statement like that.” He kissed the top of her head. “Please don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. I’m disappointed that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth sooner, regardless of my opinion about politician
s.” Scottie sat up in bed taking the sheet with her. “Trust is a fragile commodity, Guy. Once you lose a person’s trust, it’s difficult to get it back. I’m not sure I can trust you anymore. Which is problem number one.”

  He moaned. “What’s problem number two?”

  “I can’t help but question your motives. Knowing you work for the Republican Party explains a lot actually,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes. “Namely why you’re as eager as I am to identify Brosnan. Your career depends on it. I get that. But what I want to know is, where do I fit in? I came to you for a favor, and you took advantage of my vulnerability. I presented you with a gift, a ticking time bomb that would blow the election to smithereens for the Democrats. You pounced on the opportunity, and rightly so. Any sane person would do the same in your shoes. But I can’t help but think you were just using me this whole time. Which makes me question our relationship. Why did you sleep with me, Guy?”

  “Because I’m crazy about you, Scottie. Because you’re beautiful and intelligent and fun as hell to be with.” When he tried to stroke her arm, she brushed his hand away. “Let’s be fair here. I warned you from the beginning that my involvement in your investigation was a conflict of interest. If my primary goal was to ruin the election for the Democrats, I would have leaked the photographs a long time ago. My intentions have been honorable from the beginning. And not just where you’re concerned. Yes, I’d like to see the images go viral, but not until we prove Caine and Brosnan are involved. If we broke the story and it turned out Brosnan is Caine’s long-lost relative, the situation could end up backfiring on the Republicans, which would hurt our campaign in the end.”

  Scottie relaxed a little, and settled back against the headboard. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, but her body language—crossed arms and firmly set jaw—suggested she was still upset with him.

  “For the record, if it makes any difference to you, I realize how wrong I was not to tell you the truth about my career from the beginning. And I’m sorry. I’m usually an up-front kind of guy.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she looked out of the window at the waves crashing on the shore. Five awkward minutes passed in silence. “How did you go from being a cowboy to a politician anyway?” she asked with her lips pressed tight, still staring out the window.