The Politics of Love (A Romantic Comedy)

by Ines Saint

  "No!" Tania shot back up to a sitting position. "We'll lie through our teeth. You were with me all weekend. Two reporters at the station already asked me, you know. But not because they think it's you, they just want your reaction, for some reason."

  "Some of them probably still believe you guys were a couple a few months ago, no matter how strongly you denied it. They want to know how you feel about him moving on, so to speak," Jess explained.

  Robbie snorted. "And now that it is you, they think it's someone else."

  "I'd confess if I thought it would help him, but how can it, when we're not together? And few people will believe that nothing happened," Kayla said.

  Tania turned to her. "Do you think that's why he became attracted to you because you denied him so publicly? So many men are like that. They lust after what they can't have."

  "I'm telling you, Tania, he's not like that," Jess argued, and it was clear she was becoming angry.

  "He's not like that? Then what did he say when you asked him about this weekend? Come on, I know you, and I know you confronted him." Tania folded her arms across her chest.

  Jess winced but didn't answer. "What did he say about this weekend, Jess?" Kayla asked, feeling nervous now. The fact that Jess, a person who knew Jake well, thought it had been a bad idea for Kayla to go away with him, made Kayla finally begin to feel she'd done something monumentally stupid.

  "He didn't really say anything." Jess fidgeted, and Kayla knew there was more.

  "What did he say, Jess?"

  "Nothing! Just that you two kept each other company."

  Kayla's heart was beating fast, and she felt queasy. "If you love me, you'll tell me what he said. And I'm not saying that to guilt you. I'm saying it because I need to get over all this, and it will help me to know."

  Jess sighed. "Well, I'm not proud of this, but I was stressed out about how it would all play out, and I told him how I wish I could tell everyone that it was you because the idea of you two dating had been a dream for his campaign. And he said that there were no dreams, that you two were only keeping each other company, and that it was nothing special or out of the ordinary—but, you have to remember he's very private, and he was respecting your privacy, too. He didn't want to hint that anything had happened..." Jess's voice trailed off.

  "Nothing special or out of the ordinary?" Kayla repeated, ready to throw up. Why would he say that? Was he merely trying to protect their privacy? Or was it because it hadn't been special to him? It was well-known that he was a serial dater. Heck, it was a big part of his problem with voters. When he'd talked about other women, it hadn't sounded as if any of them had been special to him. To some people, sex was about release, not about making love. To some, it wasn't special. It was ordinary.

  Jess wrung her hands. "I shouldn't have said anything. I hate being in this position."

  Nobody looked at anybody for a long moment.

  "I happen to think Jake's a good guy," Robbie finally said. "But I don't know what else to say, not when it doesn't even sound like you want to be with him."

  "And all I care about is that you don't get hurt," Tania said.

  Kayla often thought Tania took things way too far, but this time, she had to wonder if her sister wasn't right. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. It didn't matter that Jess didn't think he'd been protecting her privacy. The words were unnecessary for that.

  She looked over as Jess sat down on an armchair, picked up a stitched cushion, and hugged it to her. If possible, she looked even more miserable than Kayla. Their eyes met. "Look, Kayla, I love you and Jake both. Jake's been like a part of my grandfather's life for about as long as I can remember. And you're my best friend. But if either of you really wants to talk to me; really wants to tell me how all of this happened and what's really going on inside those heads of yours, I'll always be here to listen, as long as either of you doesn't bash the other. At least neither of you has done that."

  Kayla reached over to squeeze her friend's hand.

  * * *

  The very next evening, just as Kayla headed out with a renewed sense of purpose and happiness over her career, she heard an unfamiliar voice call her name. She did a double take and frowned when she finally recognized Pete the Blogger in sunglasses, a baseball cap laid low over his eyes, and scarf that covered him up to his mouth. Nice as he seemed to be, she had to wonder about his motives for seeking her out again.

  "Hey Pete. What, uh, brings you here?"

  "Can we sit down inside or in your backyard?" he asked. "I have an idea that could benefit us both, but it won't work if I'm seen with you."

  "Um, it's cold. But I guess we could sit out back for a few minutes," she agreed, not knowing Pete well enough to invite him in. She glanced at her watch and saw she had a little under twenty minutes before the bus was due.

  They sat down on an old bench out back, and Peter turned to her. "I'm going to get right to it. I saw you and Jake at the Wal-Mart off exit 315 late Wednesday night. My mom and her husband live in Bradley, and I stopped there for a few things before heading to her house for Thanksgiving," he paused. "I know you're the woman in those pictures."

  Kayla slowly inhaled and tried to think of ways to deny it, but nothing came to mind. She was about to ask him what he was going to do with the information when he continued.

  "I don't think you lied to me that time when I asked about you and Jake Kelly. I looked back at the entire video, and it hit me you were a little too passionate as if you were in denial or something." He smiled. "I liked you and your mom. I think people like you are what makes Chicago great, and my blog isn't about gossip or rumors. I happen to think the statement the Kelly campaign put out yesterday is, at its core, true. But as a journalist blogger known for getting to the truth, and known for protecting my sources, I think we can help each other out. If you repeat your version of that, er, core truth to me, and I say I got it from the mystery women's own lips, I can protect you as a source, and it'll add a lot of credibility. Enough to make me look good for once again getting a scoop, and enough for the story to go away soon. But if you and Jake ever do decide to get together, you have to promise you'll give me the exclusive inside story, and I get to tell my part in it my way. If not, it'll look as if I was wrong."

  "Jake and I won't get together, but what about your mom? You must've told her it was me. Will she announce it on She Said, She Said?"

  "I haven't told her, and I won't. I'm not going to tempt her with info and then tell her she can't use it."

  "Then I agree to your terms! And I knew you were nice!" Kayla grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

  "Well, about that." He looked at the ground a moment before meeting her eyes. "What I'm going to show you next might hurt you, and people tend to shoot the messenger."

  "I—I won't. What can you possibly show me that will hurt me?" she asked, even as her stomach plummeted in anticipation of she knew not what.

  "After the article with the blurry picture came out, someone came forward saying they had other, well, interesting pictures. They sent me and other media outlets sample pictures today, in the hopes of getting us to bid on the lot, and that's when I decided to come here. To give you an out, in case anyone realizes it was you, and because I like you and think you deserve fair warning."

  Peter reached into his coat, took out his phone, and Kayla braced herself for a clearer picture of them at the house or something equally damning. But when Pete finally showed her the image, there was absolutely no way to prepare for what confronted her. Her breath completely left her lungs.

  It was a perfectly clear picture of Julia Hamilton and Jake standing at the pier with Jake's hand on her back. He was smiling and gesturing with the other hand, the century-old house Kayla had just gotten back from in the background. The next picture was one of him and another elegant-looking woman standing on the back porch, with Jake gesturing at the river, and the woman smiling. "I happen to think an amateur is taking the pictures, maybe a neighbor, and not a paparazzo. The
zoom isn't great, which is why rain was able to blurry the first ones. And an amateur would be more wary of trespassing or stalking to get a better shot."

  Kayla tried hard to catch her breath, but she couldn't manage it. He'd said he'd never brought another woman to the house. He'd lied to her.

  It was almost a relief.

  "Jake and Julia have been linked in the past. Some think she's been waiting on the sidelines for him while he sows his wild oats, so to speak. I'm sorry, Kayla, but I thought I should give you time to prepare. The pictures will be in some paper soon, adding credence to the whole... you know, to yesterday's article."

  "You mean the 'Jake Kelly is a lying, womanizing man-whore who shacks up with gullible, simple-minded women in his river love shack' article?" she half-exhaled, half-spat out.

  Minutes later, feeling emotionally frayed, Kayla walked onto the bus and headed to her first performance with Second City Symphony, trying hard to exchange one pure and elemental emotion for another.

  Yes, she was deeply hurt, but her longest-held dream was about to come true. Filtering her emotions wasn't easy. But they settled, and each took its place in her heart. Later, when she could afford it, she'd cry.

  Chapter 12

  Kayla practiced breathing exercises on the darkened stage behind the curtains when Julia, of all people, came up to her. Wearing a reserved smile, she said, "I just wanted to wish you every success tonight, Kayla."

  Kayla responded with a sincere thank you but was at a loss as to how to view Julia. Every time they'd spoken, the delicate, pretty young woman seemed shy. But she now also viewed Julia in the context of Jake, and she couldn't help but uncharitably think that Julia was just the type to wait in the wings for him.

  She absentmindedly watched as Julia walked through the slit between the scarlet velvet side curtains. Her parents were there, and they hugged her. When her parents stepped back, Kayla's breath hitched. Jake was there, waiting for his turn to hug Julia. A storm of feelings she didn't have time to examine threatened to take over, and Kayla tried to chase it away, but it refused to pass. Jake knew Kayla was part of Second City Symphony, too, so why would he attend a performance with Julia's family? Could he be that insensitive? Couldn't he have waited at least a month? They'd slept together less than two weeks ago!

  Kayla forced her eyes shut and desperately went through every breathing and relaxation exercise she'd ever learned. Grasping at something positive to think about, to take her mind off what could potentially ruin her performance, she focused on the one thing she knew would make her play her best despite all she was feeling. Her father.

  As she breathed, she let memories of him wash over her, knowing she could play powerfully if she believed he was somehow there, in spirit. She swallowed hard, knowing how proud he would be. When she opened her eyes, she pictured him sitting front and center, wearing his old, good suit and tie, smiling wide, more excited than she. Kayla wiped at a tear with her sleeve, knowing he was with her, sharing in both her triumph and sorrow.

  When she looked around again, the entire orchestra was seated. It was time.

  As the curtains went up, a memory of her standing on her father's feet as he taught her to dance came to her, and she smiled, remembering what unconditional love and trust felt like. When she began to play, in her mind, she and her father were waltzing in their kitchen to the orchestra's music.

  * * *

  Jake watched from above as Kayla played. Her hair was swept back, and he gazed at her downcast eyes and the soft set of her mouth, something like nostalgia surrounding her, as lost in the music as she ever was. He knew a strong impulse to wait for her after the performance, to hug her and tell her how proud he was. And to thank her. She'd spoken to Peter the blogger, anonymously, and had corroborated his statement. It had made the whole thing a non-story.

  When they announced the intermission, she looked up and met his eyes. And her expression was so cold, and so disapproving, that he felt all warmth disappear and ice settle in his stomach. He'd never seen her look like that. She wasn't happy to see him. That much was clear. They'd decided to stay away from each other, and, for the first time in his life, he'd been the weaker person.

  Not about to take a hit from anyone, not even Kayla, he looked back at her, his jaw set, his eyes just as cold. He'd thank her though Jess, and forget about her.

  * * *

  The following morning, hell broke loose in Jake's campaign. Photos of him at his house with both Julia and another woman had surfaced and lent fire to reports that he owned a "love shack," and didn’t know a thing about long-term commitments.

  When Kayla's name came up as a possible candidate for his mystery woman, Tania provided her sister with a clever alibi. She'd simply scoffed, and said her sister had spent the weekend practicing, which was true.

  Jess quickly got to work to get Julia and the other woman, Candace Stiles, an interior decorator who specialized in Victorian homes he'd once consulted, to issue statements denying intimate relationships. But Mrs. Stiles could not be reached, and even Jess seemed to doubt Jake's story, telling him that it wasn't anyone's business anyway.

  Throughout the day, thoughts of what Kayla was thinking tortured him, but he didn't know how to reach out to her. The night before she'd looked at him as if she never wanted to see him again, and that had been before today's breaking news.

  Now the fact that he'd been at the concert with Julia's family only added fuel to past and present rumors of a relationship between him and Julia. Was that why Kayla had been upset the night before? Did she know about the past rumors? Or was it because she suspected he'd gone to see her when they'd agreed not to see each other?

  Everything was messed up. His feelings for Kayla had gone from an attraction he could understand to something raw and sweet and painful.

  All week long he'd found himself acting out of character. Instead of his usual, laser-like focus, he'd been staring off into space. He convinced himself it was his conscience telling him he had to set things straight. So at the end of the endless, exhausting week, Jake impulsively grabbed his phone and looked up the number of the only person who could help him decide what to do.

  * * *

  Kayla's life was a whirlwind of events. Between concerts scheduled at different venues and ensemble engagements, her life was a blur of trains, buses, performances, and rehearsals.

  "Hey, uh, how are you feeling about all the hoopla surrounding Jake Kelly?" Michelle gently greeted her one morning.

  Kayla took a sip of coffee before lying. "I don't care. I told you, it was only my body that was infatuated. Besides, who has time to think about stuff like that?" For her, there was always time to feel. She was just busy enough to repress the thoughts.

  She had brushed off the question, but she could see that both Michelle and Simone, who was standing behind Michelle, were acting funny. Simone awkwardly handed her that morning's paper and pointed to a picture. Kayla gawked at a tiny image of Brandon, playing his saxophone on stage. The headline read: "Kayla Diaz's Boyfriend Breaks his Silence."

  Kayla coughed up her coffee and quickly scanned the so-called story. Brandon had told a reporter that he and Kayla had broken up over Jake shortly after Chicago SummerDance, that she had basically admitted to him that their break-up was because of her feelings for Jake and that he was sure Kayla was the mystery woman in the blurry Thanksgiving weekend photo. Kayla felt a rush of hot anger.

  But Brandon had insisted the interview take place at the club where he played, and that they interview him after he'd played his set. The reporter felt his so-called story seemed more like a ploy for publicity than a real scoop. It offered her some relief, but she hated that her name was still out there. She'd never asked for any of this.

  At least she no longer cared what Brandon thought. She'd run into him and Carrie in her neighborhood that very week, since the pair were no longer in hiding, and it hadn't bothered her one bit, even when Brandon had clearly been trying to flaunt their relationship. Kayla felt ba
d for Carrie because there was an insecurity to her that Brandon would likely exacerbate if she didn’t watch herself. She decided to find the time to become friends again.

  Brandon and his lies didn’t bother her now that she knew what real heartache was. She kept catching herself waiting for the interior decorator to go on record. Part of her needed to hear a denial that matched Jake's, and it made her feel weak.

  "Um, we weren't sure if you'd read it, but just in case, we thought it would be better if you got it from us than from some stranger on the street," Simone explained, interrupting Kayla's wandering thoughts.

  She folded her friends into a quick hug and said, "Thanks, guys, and I'm sorry I seem out of it lately."

  On Friday, Kayla finally had the afternoon off. Robbie asked her to come down and help him at his dance studio, and she was relieved to have an outlet to her restless energy. In fact, there was nothing she wanted to do more than dance.

  The weather had varied greatly that first week of December, and that Friday, in particular, was brutal. Kayla nearly froze her butt off during her short walk to Robbie's studio. She entered, put her stuff down, and pulled her coat closer to her body while she walked around to get warm. The lone sound of her heeled boots clicking on the hardwood floors began to grate on her, and she stopped pacing, peeled her coat and gloves off, and wondered where Robbie was. She looked up at the mirrored front wall at the sound of the back door opening, expecting to see Robbie's reflection.

  She was stunned when Jake walked into the room instead, his leather-gloved hands fixing the collar of his long, elegant coat, his expression as remote as ever. He stopped and watched her. For a long time, neither spoke.

  It took all Kayla had to hide her emotions. Seeing him there so unexpectedly, his powerful blue eyes gazing at her in such a serious manner, his handsome face set in stone, all she could think about was how badly she wanted him to gather her in his arms, smile warmly down at her again, promise her he cared for her, and that everything else was a lie.