Vixen Investigations: The Mayoral Affairs

by Ashley Papa

  “Why did you have pictures of the mayor on those TVs? I thought you wrote about travel and lifestyle? Are you a CIA operative?! Who are you?!”

  He got louder. Before I could muster up a response, Liam turned and hastily made his way to the door. I chased after him, nearly tripping over my own feet.

  “Liam, wait. No, I am not in the CIA. Just stop for a minute!” I urged.

  He stopped with his one hand on the doorknob and looked at me. I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

  “I knew something was up with you. Those quick cancellations, jaunts to Texas, and who knows what else. You could’ve been honest. I probably would’ve thought it was cool!” he scolded.

  “Just calm down. It’s not easy to explain. I’m not like most women,” I defended.

  “I know you aren’t. That’s why I fell in love with you. But,

  you lied to me. You’re a spy, not a reporter. Have you been spying on me?”

  His accusations were hurtful and by nature, all I wanted to do was fight back. But he was right. I shouldn’t have lied. I reached for his arm but he just pushed me away.

  “Liam, I’ve never done anything behind your back. I’ve always respected you and the relationship. It’s just something I can’t get into before I really know someone. I run an infidelity…,” I began to explain, but he didn’t want to hear it.

  He opened the door and went straight to the stairwell.

  “Liam!” I said loudly while trying not to alarm my neighbors.

  He was already gone.

  MONDAY

  “He didn’t even let me explain.”

  I was trying to justify what happened with Taylor and April over Shake Shack burgers and milkshakes. The air was thick and heavy. It felt like it could downpour any minute. We were sitting at a wobbly table in Madison Square Park.

  “What if he says something?”

  “He’s not. He’s not that type of guy. He probably felt betrayed. I mean, you weren’t honest with him,” Taylor lectured, then paused. “If anyone should know about being honest with your partner, it’s you.”

  “I was waiting for the right time. If I were just honest from the start, he wouldn’t have even cared. It was the fact that I hid the truth from him for so long that really bothered him,” I finally admitted.

  I couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite. I demanded transparency from the men in my life and yet, I kept so much a secret.

  Following the therapy session with April and Taylor, I decided to walk alone to the ferry terminal on the West Side. The clouds from the west were dark. Storms were rolling in. I could faintly hear thunder in the distance. While I risked getting caught in the rain, I thought the walk might make me feel a little better.

  I shoved the earbuds into my ears and put on “The Eagles” channel on my Pandora app. “Lyin’ Eyes” was the first song to play.

  Very funny, Pandora!

  Irritated, I turned the music off and decided it’d be best to just listen to the sounds of the city streets.

  On the ferry home and with the city slowly getting farther away, I closed my eyes and let the wind smack my face. The boat rocked side to side. Big rain drops started to fall on the deck. We were in for a big storm. I was prepping to run for cover as the boat docked. Then, a text.

  Walter Mobile:

  Free for dinner this week?

  WEDNESDAY

  It took three days to finally get a response from Liam. I had so desperately wanted to explain myself to him for the sake of us and my business. Since he had to travel for work and I didn’t want any distractions right before the interview, we settled on a date to talk a few days after. While he still weighed heavy on my thoughts, I turned my focus solely on Mayor Wilcox. The Gotham Post was more excited about the piece than a porn star on Viagra. I had teased the paper of the “juicy information” I had on the mayor. They knew they were in for a good story.

  Walter seemed to also be hungry for me. I agreed to dinner with him. He wanted to see me away from the distraction of his subordinates and his family. Sleazy, yet a crucial opportunity for me.

  We were meeting tonight at the hard-to-get-into restaurant Devin’s, on the Upper West Side. It was a hyped-up, no-frills restaurant where, unless you were an A-lister or knew the family, it was impossible to get in. Wednesdays were apparently the best nights there because they only opened for the really special clients. One of which was Walter.

  Walter had ordered me a car service, which had me at the restaurant promptly at 8 p.m.

  Using taxpayer dollars to cart your date around, Mayor?

  Walter was already sitting inside when I walked in. The place smelled like Sundays at my childhood home when my mom would spend all day cooking a roast and potatoes.

  “Hello, Mayor,” I said, bending over to kiss him on the cheek.

  He motioned for me to sit down.

  “You look delightful,” he commented about the tightest black dress I owned. “I’m glad you agreed to meet with me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “I tend to have that effect on people…especially men,” I replied with a seductive gaze. “Tell me, why did you want to meet with me so bad? You know this goes against all journalistic ethics,” I teased.

  “You excite me, Paige Turner. There’s something about you.”

  It was obvious he wasn’t here to talk business. His desire of me had him just where I wanted him. He already seemed so much more powerless.

  “I want you to be my new press secretary,” he confessed.

  Seriously? What about Jimmy? He’s been so loyal to you all these years!

  “Wow, sir. That is quite an offer.” I played along.

  Almost two hours of what seemed like nothing but flirting and bribery, we were finally ready to leave. The restaurant didn’t even bring over a bill. We just left and there was a car waiting for him. He insisted I come home with him because “he didn’t want to be alone.”

  “You know, this interview with you means a lot to me. More than an Emmy or Pulitzer or a big fat check,” I confessed as we sat in the back of the town car.

  I was tired and just wanted to go home, but kept my game face on. I ran my fingers down his shirt stopping just short of his waistband. I’d tantalize his sexual appetite by going in for a kiss and then pull away. His hand rested on my thigh.

  “You give me what I want. I’ll give you what you want,” I whispered in his ear just before giving it a little nibble.

  That simple move sent him over the top. He pulled my face to his and he kissed me hard. When I felt his attempt to shove his tongue deep down my throat, I playfully pushed him off of me but really wanted to slam his head against the window.

  “Mayor! Please. Not this…not now!” I ordered. “I said…you give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”

  Walter was breathing hard. I could tell he wanted me. A man in his power wasn’t used to being turned away; that’s why he was so turned on.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he admitted.

  I could still taste the stale wine from his mouth on my lips.

  “John, please take Miss Turner back to New Jersey,” he ordered the driver.

  No amount of soap and water could wash the stench of Walter off of me. I wasn’t even home for thirty minutes and already he was inundating me with texts about how much fun he had. As water from my wet hair dripped onto the phone, I didn’t even bother texting him back. I knew not responding to him would drive him nuts.

  I got under the silk covers with a big smile on my face that night.

  Yes, Walter, there is something about me. I’m the Vixen Investigator.

  With July 4th just a few days away, lots of people had taken the week off and the city was a lot quieter. It was a good time for me to hunker down and plan out my questions and atta
ck-plan the big day. Victoria had entered an almost zombie-like state knowing that the end was near. There was still a lot she didn’t know, but knew it wasn’t good. I was honest but vague with her. Soon, I would be disclosing all. She had been spending most of her time in the Hamptons away from photographers and reporters. When she returned to town for her annual doctor’s appointment next week—a few days before the interview—we had plans to reconnect to go over some final details.

  Today, however, I had back-to-back meetings with Jimmy at City Hall and another with The Gotham Post. I decided to drive myself into the city to avoid that wretched smell of the city in the summertime and, not to mention, the heat of being underground.

  “Miss Turner. Nice to see you again,” greeted Stan, the City Hall security guard.

  I was now on a first-name basis with all of them, which was rare and an accomplishment in itself. Their tough-guy attitudes were no match for my tight outfits and captivating charm.

  As usual, I sat in the waiting area until the portly secretary came out to bring me in. She’d call me in and I followed her down the echoing hallways and into Jimmy’s office, where he was sitting at his desk. I took a seat as he held up his pointer finger to silently tell me “one minute,” like always.

  “Just one more second…and…okay…finished,” he spoke into his computer screen. “Sorry about that. I just get so stressed out, but I guess that’s normal.”

  He was very jittery, like he had just done a line of cocaine or had too many cups of coffee. Even without prying, Jimmy would voluntarily spill all his anxieties to me. I got the sense he really hated his job after telling me how hard it was to keep tabs on Walter all the time. It was understandable, especially with the secrets he kept. Twenty minutes into what was turning out to be a therapy session for him, Jimmy finally got into the real reason he had called me in. There were apparently some concerns that my questions would drift to attacks and take a more political feel. My blood raced with such an assumption.

  He concluded with a warning that if I got too hard with him, Leon would pull the plug on the interview, even if mid-taping. Jimmy’s advice was more out of caution for me than an order from his boss. I appreciated the heads-up from him.

  I gave Jimmy my word that I’d keep the interview strictly about his family and love life. We shook on it, but just as I was about to begin gathering up my belongings, Jimmy dropped his head into his hands and started sobbing. I was caught so off guard, I didn’t know if I should call for help. Instead, I went around to the back of his desk and put my hands on his shoulders. It was then that he spilled the details about him and Richard. I let him talk without interruption as he explained their first encounter and how much he was in love with him. Like I already surmised, Jimmy didn’t know how much longer he could go on keeping their relationship a secret. He wanted to quit, but said it just “wasn’t an option.”

  On to meeting number two at The Gotham Post. I was a woman on a mission with no time to waste.

  “Paige?” I had just sat down in the waiting room when Connie and Juliet both came out to greet me.

  They were smiling and looked eager to chat. Down the hallway, past the giant conference room where I first got to know them, and into Connie’s office, which looked out towards the Statue of Liberty, I followed. Juliet offered me the larger, leather chair while she stood to my side. It was like they were buttering me up for something.

  “So,” Connie started, leaning over her desk that reminded me of a garage sale: junk everywhere. “How’s it going with the exposé? You ready for the interview? What are you going to wear?” Questions left her mouth faster than a tennis ball launcher.

  “All going as planned. I am just waiting for the big day,” I calmly said.

  “Great. I know you’re prepping for the interview and everything, but we just wanted to run some…ideas by you,” Connie offered while my first thought went to how much I hated outside influence on my uncompleted work. “I know we’ve discussed this before…The Gotham Post is not a soft newspaper. Sure, it’s fun and readers like our quirky writing style…”

  “What Connie is trying to say is that, we need dirt,” Juliet interrupted. “We need some dirty shit. Our readers aren’t fans of the mayor. See if you could play up his lavish lifestyle in a way that would insult New Yorkers.”

  I appreciated how Juliet got right to the point, even if they were belaboring on the same one. We were all in agreement but they didn’t even realize it. I took a deep breath, stood up, and turned to them both.

  “Don’t worry ladies. I know exactly what you want…and you will get exactly that. I said it was going to be a juicy story. And I mean, it will be juicy,” I guaranteed.

  JULY

  The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays. It was the only day I felt that eating two hot dogs and a hamburger in one sitting was acceptable because it showed my devotion to the United States of America. With the holiday on a Saturday this year, the entire coastline surrounding the Tri-State area was sure to be packed. That’s why I opted to stay put in Hoboken. The spectacular Macy’s fireworks would be set off just feet away from me on the Hudson River so I decided to rent out the roof of the apartment building and invite my dearest friends over to watch the show. Theresa was in town and I was thrilled to have her back. She was coming over along with Taylor, Adam, April, and Jordan. Also on the attendance list: the now divorced and world traveling Leslie Schneider (formerly Benson) and her new boy-toy, actor and former clerk at The Hotel Versailles, Claude. I honestly couldn’t wait to gossip about Steve. All I knew was that after I shocked his world, he was fired for using company funds to pay for his infidelities.

  I was looking forward to seeing everyone outside of the work setting, although I was missing Liam. I asked him to come over, but he told me he “already had plans.” He was still upset and it was understandable. I was just happy to be communicating again, whether or not he really had plans.

  With the sun setting behind the western cliffs of northern New Jersey, hordes of people began making their way to the west side of Manhattan. My party was going through hamburgers, wieners, and tofu dogs (for Taylor) faster than Joey Chesnut at the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest. It was nice to see everyone looking genuinely happy. I wondered how Victoria was doing. She, Walter, and Piper were together this holiday weekend, again, for press reasons only. With about twenty minutes to spare before the fireworks started I summoned my Vixen Investigations crew for a quick chat away from the rest of the group.

  We all had our drinks and whatever remaining food in our hands as I started the conversation.

  “I think you need to go full-out Vixen Investigator on the mayor, Paige,” Theresa advised. “You obviously have so much on him, you can just present him with all the evidence and he wouldn’t be able to do anything. That guy needs a good kick in the balls.”

  As much as I appreciated Theresa’s two cents, her perspective was unrealistic. I couldn’t throw it down like she instructed. I had to go about it smoothly and get him to confess. He’ll just deny, deny, deny.

  “I’m serious! That motherfucker shouldn’t be in office. He’s the reason I moved out of New York City, and I love New York City. Get him out and I’ll move back,” she continued.

  “I can’t just come out like a caged bull. There’s a technique to getting him to tell me what I want. It has to be done subtly,” I said.

  Since we were literally counting down the days, I advised everyone to maintain their low profiles and keep doing their assigned tasks. Even though April was drained and we had plenty of information on Piper’s tumultuous relationship with her father, we couldn’t break character.

  “April! Get over here, the fireworks start in one minute!” Jordan yelled over to us.

  We made our way back to the other guests just before the first rocket shot from the barge. For 45 minutes, the space that separated New York and New Jersey wa
s emblazoned with red, white, and blue balls of fire. I went and stood with my dad and Zelda. She seemed to be enjoying the fireworks herself, jumping up and barking every time a new one was propelled into the air. The fireworks were grand and beautiful, but they were nothing compared to the explosions about to come out of this investigation.

  The Monday before the big day and I was in full crime-fighting mode. Today was the final meeting with Victoria, who already had lined up a lawyer. It was time to reveal everything to her from Lucy, Rags and Riches, Dallas, to the Hamptons party and the administration’s cover-up. When she disclosed that she hired the city’s most successful divorce attorney, that’s when it really hit me. As strong of a woman as she was, I felt bad for her. She had spent the majority of her life with a man who was sneaking around behind her back. She didn’t enter marriage thinking that her spouse might cheat. She planned on growing old with Walter.

  Adam arrived at my place right at 10 a.m. to help me prepare for Victoria’s arrival. I had already been up for a few hours and was ready for a drink. Adam looked worn out, too. We were both ready to close this case.

  The PowerPoint presentation I’d detail to Victoria was a timeline of Walter’s philandering events. I had collected more dirt on him than anyone would’ve ever imagined. From photos, phone records and bank statements, and audio recordings from the suspect and his cohorts, there was no way he could possibly argue his way out of this one. There was still one thing I desperately needed to find out: what was in those files stashed in Walter’s desk?