For Immediate Release

by Clancy Nacht

  “Every politician does. Texas politicians, in particular, if you know what I mean.” Corey chuckled and leaned forward. “Is that what this is about? You’re not sure where you fit?”

  “I guess you could say that.” Lance closed his eyes and thought about Elliot’s kiss, their bodies pressed so tight together. How much he’d wanted to get wrapped up in the charismatic politician. Were Elliot any other man—were he not married, were it not so complicated—maybe it would’ve been different.

  “You in?”

  Lance opened his eyes and scanned Corey’s face. His expression was unreadable.

  Lance shrugged. “What value do I bring? You can hire any PR hack to do what I do, one that brings far less baggage. I’m not going to live my life in the closet for the duration of the campaign.”

  Corey put his hands on Lance’s desk. “I told you from the start that there was no expectation of you living in the closet. This isn’t that kind of Republican campaign.”

  While Corey’s earlier insinuations of a more open conservative candidate had intrigued Lance, a darker, more cynical motive for Corey seeking him out seemed likely now. “You know.”

  “I know a lot of things, Lance. Be more specific.”

  “You know Elliot’s gay.”

  “Sexuality is a complicated issue…”

  Lance stood, half a second from bolting. “Don’t give me that shit. He’s at least bisexual, isn’t he?”

  “He loves his wife, he has children, but yes, he does seek out the company of men from time to time.”

  “Shit.” Lance stared at the ceiling.

  The room felt suddenly stuffy. He wanted to open a window. All the windows.

  What an idiot he’d been. “That’s why me, isn’t it? I’m not some mail order bride, you know.”

  Corey stood and blocked the doorway so Lance couldn’t leave. “Look, I asked you to come on to this campaign because you’re smart, talented, and hungry for the work. Yes, you’re an attractive gay man, and did I think that maybe in an ideal world there’d be a love match? Sure.”

  “A love match. Oh right, like you’re just some harmless Yenta trying to get two single people to find love. He has a wife.” Lance shoved Corey out of the doorway.

  Corey grabbed the wall, wide-eyed at being so easily dislodged. “Yes, Lance. He has a wife and children, and he is one wrong flirtation away from landing them in a world of hurt.”

  “He should’ve thought of that before acquiring those things. You act like he just tripped and fell into a family, and on his way back up, he just happened to join a homophobic political party and run for office. He’s not the victim here.”

  Lance headed for the kitchen. Wine.

  No.

  He was not an alcoholic, past few days to the contrary. He didn’t need alcohol. He needed to stop dealing with people who made him want to drink.

  Corey followed Lance and stopped when Lance did, hanging back just out of arm’s reach. “Are you angry because you believe what you’re saying, or are you angry because you like him?”

  “I’m angry because I thought he was worth liking. Now he’s just a dirtbag politician like the rest of them.”

  “Really? You don’t think he’s any different? You heard his immigration policy.”

  “Yeah. He sounds like a Democrat. Maybe he should consider that.” Lance wasn’t going to drink, but he needed to do something. He grabbed a glass and ran some water.

  “They won’t elect a gay Democrat either. Look. Talk to him. He has a lot of passion to work in politics. He wants to make things better; he really does. But you know how politics is.” Corey calmly grabbed a glass for himself and poured himself some iced tea from inside the fridge.

  “No, I don’t, Corey. That was the point, remember?”

  Corey leaned against the kitchen island where Lance had stitched up Guy just hours earlier. “This is good tea.”

  “Community.”

  “Good Southern boy after all, huh?” Corey held up the glass in salute and then drained it. “I get the feeling you’re going to say you’re out, and maybe you’re right to.”

  Lance took Corey’s empty glass and put it in the dishwasher. He shrugged.

  Corey wiped down the counter with a rag as if he belonged there, probably trying to endear himself to Lance. “Can I ask you something?”

  “We’re all friends here.” Lance put his glass in the dishwasher, closed it, and leaned against it.

  “All right, smart ass: Are you planning to quit because he’s a hypocrite or because you’re not sure you can control yourself around him?”

  Lance felt sucker punched. His gaze darted around the room as he sought a secure spot to stare at until he mastered himself. Though he tried to look stoic, Corey’s victorious expression said it was too late.

  Corey clamped his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Don’t quit yet. Promise?”

  “Look, Corey, either answer to that nets the same thing.”

  “Maybe not. Leave your schedule open for the next couple of days. There’s someone I think you should talk to before you make your final decision.”

  Lance jerked out of Corey’s grip. “I don’t want to see Elliot.”

  “Not Elliot. But I’m not saying who. Just...stay with us for a couple of days. At worst, you get paid for time you didn’t have to work.”

  There was no such thing as a free lunch, but Lance assented with a nod.

  “Momma said always take yes for an answer, so I’m going to get out of your hair.” Corey patted Lance’s back. “See you soon.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  A phone buzzed in Lance’s desk. Who would have the number for a burner already? When he looked inside the drawer, he realized that in his haste he’d shoved his own phone in among them. He rolled his eyes at himself and answered. “This is Lance Gatsby.”

  “Lance.”

  Shit. Lance should’ve checked who was calling.

  Elliot sounded breathy, like he hadn’t expected to get through. Lance hadn’t been answering his phone, but he hadn’t seen Elliot in his missed calls. He’d ignored a few unknown numbers, though. Maybe Elliot had been one of them.

  As immature as not answering the phone had been, Lance wouldn’t just hang up, not even at his most petulant. “Hey. Corey just left.”

  “Yeah. Hey, I just wanted to call and apologize to you. I was way out of line.”

  “You were.” Lance closed the drawer and turned his chair away from the window. “But so was I.”

  Elliot sighed. “No. You were… You are… perfect.”

  Lance’s face burned; the tingle reached all the way to his toes. “You’re married.”

  “I am.” Another sigh. Regretful?

  Lance struggled not to read too much into it. He couldn’t afford to make assumptions. Then again, hadn’t the kiss confirmed Lance’s previous observations?

  “Don’t get me wrong, Lance. I love my wife. She’s… You’ve met her. She’s amazing.”

  “She is. And your kids are amazing, too. I’m not a homewrecker, Elliot.”

  “Like I said, you’re perfect.”

  Lance turned in his chair to face the doorway, thinking again about the wine, how it blurred his black and white world into gray. Maybe that would make this conversation more bearable.

  Or it would make Lance more pliable.

  “I’m far from perfect. Maybe I just seem that way from across the room. Talk about perfect… You have the perfect life, including a very good shot at being president. I’m an obstacle to that at best.”

  “You’re not, Lance. I understand you think so, and I understand why, but…”

  “No buts, Elliot. There’s no party, no campaign, that can withstand a gay scandal. And with a beautiful wife and two young children involved?”

  “That wasn’t what I was…”

  “You wanted a discreet affair where nothing came out. No, I know.” Lance reclined in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

  “I know you got nothing
out of watching me in debate prep, Lance. You weren’t there to learn, not really. You… you just being there made me more focused. You kept me on track. Knowing you were listening motivated me to be a better speaker, to express the truth of my convictions. It’s not… It’s not the sex, Lance. As you said, there’s Grindr and non-disclosure agreements. It’s you.”

  Lance’s skin prickled. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. He shivered as the air conditioning kicked in and chilled it.

  Until then, Lance believed nothing would sway his convictions, no matter who Corey’s special guest might be. But hearing that from Elliot…

  Sure, it would be convenient to have a fucktoy on staff, but what if Corey was so desperate to keep Lance around because what Elliot said was true? Maybe Corey had aimed for a fucktoy, but what if the connection between Lance and Elliot was more profound than that?

  “You give me too much credit.”

  “Susan’s a wonderful woman. I love my children, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. But I have to tell you...We were so young, Lance. So young. I didn’t know what I was giving up. I thought it was just a physical thing, but you…”

  “I appreciate what you’re saying, Elliot, but you don’t know me that well.” Lance’s chest ached. He could barely breathe.

  How long had Lance craved something like this? Someone who’d feel this way about him, tell him such things?

  It wasn’t as if he put himself out there. How could he afford to? Now, the pain overwhelmed Lance. He’d finally inspired wild emotion only for it come from the wrong place.

  Elliot was silent for so long that Lance checked his phone. Had the line gone dead?

  “I know you better than you think I do.”

  Hair rose on the back of Lance’s neck. The silence of the office produced a low whine in his ears. He scanned his room, half-expecting to see a camera on him, a bug he’d missed somehow. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. That sounded creepy. I just meant… I’m sorry. I’m making this worse.” Elliot’s voice was high and tight, panicked.

  “What did you mean?” Lance stood, turned on the hall lights, and stalked to the private investigators’ room. They had a bug detector, and Lance’s skin crawled with the need to use it.

  “There’s a connection, Lance. I know you feel it.” Elliot took a deep breath. “You could be right. It’s possible and even likely I don’t know you that well and I’ve just developed an infatuation.”

  Lance stopped and braced his hand on the frame of the PIs’ office door. The fear he was being spied on had passed as suddenly as it had begun. “I’m not what I seem.”

  “Who is?”

  “True.” Lance turned his back to the wall and slid down it until he sat on the floor.

  “The irony here is that I love that you’re not the sort of person who would fuck his way to power, that you have principles and wouldn’t break up a family.”

  “And yet….” Lance closed his eyes.

  “Yeah. But you know, continuing with the campaign isn’t an obligation to anything but being around me. Be my muse. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Can you do that? Be a muse?”

  “Amuse, huh? Well I’m glad someone is having fun.” Lance grinned grimly at his pun, fighting the flutter in his chest. He’d never been so simultaneously flattered and mortified.

  Elliot chuckled. “You know what I’m saying.”

  “Yeah. I’ll think about it, Elliot.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  Lance ended the call. God help him, he was tempted.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “A body was found floating in Lady Bird Lake last night. A water rescue team arrived, but the body was declared dead at the scene. Police suspect foul play. The body has been taken to the Travis County Medical Examiner’s Office. Back to you in the studio.”

  Lance frowned at the online video but closed his laptop at his mysterious guest’s knock. He had expected to wait to have this meeting, but whoever was at the door ended the anticipation first thing Monday morning.

  Lance sighed and heaved himself to his feet to answer the door. Gretchen was in court, Talia wasn’t difficult to convince to work from home, and the PIs were on surveillance duty. Corey’s mysterious guest hadn’t required the empty office as a condition of their meeting, but Lance figured he might as well go all the way.

  When he opened door, he blinked and then held out his hand.

  It was Elliot’s wife, Susan.

  “You look radiant. Thank you for coming.” Lance laid it on thick, but it was true. She was all long legs and sunny smile.

  “I bought croissants and coffee from Sweetish Hill.” She held out the bag.

  He led her into the kitchen. She followed carrying two cups of coffee in a drink caddy. They unpackaged the food and brought their breakfast into Lance’s office.

  What was he supposed to say? She chirped about the weather and the summer heat, sounding nothing like a woman visiting the man her husband wanted to fuck.

  All Lance could do was stare. Was she really there? Was this what she wanted? Breakfast and small talk?

  Was she put up to this? She’d never struck him as the Claire Underwood type, but then political couples had to be pretty practical.

  Sitting at his desk, Lance leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to get comfortable enough to make her point. She fussed over the arrangement of the croissant on her napkin and added cream and sugar to her coffee with finicky precision, as if delaying to collect her thoughts.

  “I wonder what you must think of me.” She frowned at the food on Lance’s desk and folded her hands in her lap.

  “And I wonder what you think of me,” Lance returned with a wry smile. “This is both of us at our worst, isn’t it?”

  Susan smiled slightly but wouldn’t meet his gaze. “No, you’re the man who’s made a sensible decision. I’m the one here to ask you to make a different one.”

  Lance pushed his croissant away. “This is a loving thing you want to do for your husband.”

  “Loving.” She shook her head. “Maybe that’s true. The thing is, political families…. We’re different. We don’t exist merely for our own pleasure.”

  Lance nodded. He didn’t like it, but he understood.

  “In a way, Lance, we want to invite you into our family.” She held out her hands to him in a practiced gesture, and by her flat delivery he could tell she’d been rehearsing in a mirror.

  “Like a sister wife?” Lance gave her a curt smile. Maybe she’d allow his humor to take the sting out of the situation.

  Her expression brightened. “Yes, like that. A sister wife. A helper.”

  How disturbing that it cheered her.

  Lance looked down at his hands and thought again of the body they’d found in Lady Bird Lake.

  He pushed away the thought and refocused. “I don’t know, Susan.”

  She reached across the desk and grabbed him by the wrists. “Lance, you don’t understand. You’re his muse. I’ve never been that for him. He got into the Senate on a wing and a prayer.”

  Lance tried to pull back his hands, but she wouldn’t release them.

  “I’m there, and it’s nothing. He could have a real shot at the presidency, but he needs you. He speaks to you, and in that, he speaks to America. I can’t… That’s not what I am to him.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper, confessional. “I hate it. I do. I wish I were all those things he needs, but I’m not.” She stared at the spot behind Lance’s head. “I’m a very small part of him, a superficial part. I’m the part that people see and relate to. But you… You’re more. His heart, his passion.”

  Lance closed his eyes, reminding himself that Elliot barely knew him. “How can that be true? We haven’t—”

  She held her hands up. “I know. I know, Lance. You’re a good man. A really good man. I think he feels like you make him a better man. Me, I make him feel like a politician and a cheat. With you, he can be honest. He won’t do this without you. That’s
what he’s told all of us.”

  Susan retreated then, folding her arms across her chest.

  Lance’s heart went out to her. “That can’t be easy to hear.”

  She looked up into his eyes, her own glossy and wet as she shook her head. “It’s not. But I understand. Elliot and I… This is what we want. We want it for us and for the country. There’s no other man who can do this job the way he can. I have no doubt of that. None at all.” Susan stared Lance down. “That’s why I’m willing to put myself aside for this.”

  “For how long?”

  “However long it takes.”

  Lance sipped his coffee, head swimming. “What about your kids?”

  “They can never know. You can’t be near them. Don’t go near our house, and do nothing in our bed. You go on tour with Elliot, and you’re his man.” Susan turned away as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

  He nodded and took a deep breath. “So you’re all right with this?”

  “No, but it is what it is. I’m a practical woman, Lance. I didn’t marry Elliot without knowing this about him. Do I wish I’d met a prince who would whisk me off to rule by his side? Who’d make me his muse? I do. But guess what? That doesn’t exist. Men in power cheat. All of them. But few are willing to tell you when they’re going to cheat or why.” She exhaled heavily and seemed to brace herself.

  Lance held his breath, caught up in her intensity.

  She glanced at him and then away. “I resent Elliot for being what he is, but I love him because we have the same vision for the country and how life should be.” Her gaze roamed the ceiling. “We did, anyway. This affair or whatever, I knew it would come eventually. As much as I resent it, resent you, I’m glad you’re the sort of man you are. You care about the family you could so easily destroy.”

  That was a lot to take in, but Lance nodded and then stared at his lap. “You love him enough to let him get what he needs.”

  “I love being a first lady enough to let him get what he thinks he needs.” She shot Lance a wistful look and then stood and shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve said my piece. I hope we can work together, but if not, it was good meeting you.” She held out her hand.