In my Arms Tonight (NYC Singles Book 2)

by Sasha Clinton

  No one, not even Chad, knew about most of his childhood. Or the tattoos on his body. Or his real name.

  And it was going to stay that way. Secrets were a commodity more precious than gold in this business. His were going to the grave with him.

  “So what did you do today?” Alex modulated his tone so Chad would know what he was hinting at. “Other than tasting wedding cakes.”

  The trace of white icing under Chad’s lips earlier had given that away.

  “Played golf with Logan and Barry. That was probably the highlight of my day. By the way, I heard something disturbing from Logan.” Chad heightened the suspense, pausing and biting into his burger. “And coincidentally, it was about you.”

  Alex had been waiting for this. Chad wasn’t the type to meet up over dinner casually, so when he’d asked to meet, Alex had known something was up. “How disturbing was it?”

  Dabbing his oily fingers on a napkin, Chad reached into his pocket and played a video on his phone. “See and decide for yourself.”

  The initial frame rolled by. As the forms crisscrossed into each other, Alex’s heart came up to his throat and threatened to fall out of his mouth. He slapped his forehead.

  Oh, hell.

  Video footage of him on the subway, punching and kicking the man, blinked in front of his eyes. The alarm bells in his head went off instantaneously.

  It hadn’t looked so brutal when he’d done it, but watching it made him look away. If the public saw this…

  “Five hundred thousand views and counting,” Chad declared, impressed.

  The sickening nausea in Alex’s stomach grew.

  The media was going to butcher him. Even the combined forces of the public relations firm he’d hired and his press secretary couldn’t bail him out of this one.

  This was violence, whichever way you looked at it. True, he’d done it in the spirit of saving someone, but looking at this video, that wasn’t immediately clear. Only Kat’s shoes showed up in one corner of the screen, making it look like he was engaging in a brawl rather than trying to prevent a woman from getting sexually harassed.

  Great. Just great.

  “You have moves. I’ll give you that.” Chad’s appreciative laugh sounded so distant, it could have come from three blocks away.

  Digging his fingers into his thighs, Alex kept himself from reacting.

  When the screen faded to black, Alex bit out his verdict. “This is bad.”

  “Wait till you’ve seen the way your opponents are bludgeoning you on Twitter.” Chad’s voice was laced with exasperation. “Hashtag summerviolence has been trending since yesterday.”

  The last thing he needed was wrath on social media.

  Inhaling, Alex urged himself to remain calm. Crises were his daily routine. It would be fine. Things would quiet down.

  “How long has it been up? The video?” Alex enquired.

  “A day. Is your press secretary off on vacation or something?” Chad cupped his chin, sarcastic.

  Alex scrolled down to read the comments. “I’ll have to check—”

  “Don’t.” Chad’s palm closed around his. “You don’t want to read the comments. There are some really nasty ones.”

  If Chad thought they were nasty, they must be mean, because Chad had a high threshold for hate.

  Alex uncurled himself from the table. “Can you excuse me for a moment? I need to make a few urgent calls.”

  His phone rang as he lumbered outside the diner.

  “Alex, it’s me. Listen—” Selia, his campaign press secretary, didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence before he cut in.

  “Selia, what the fuck have you been doing? There’s a video of me on YouTube—”

  “I know. I tried flagging it and getting it removed but it didn’t work.” She sounded hyper-nervous. She should be, since she was going to lose her job soon. “I’ve posted a statement on the website and facebook already. We’ll have to do a press conference, first thing tomorrow.”

  “Obviously.” Alex kicked the wall outside the diner, anger bubbling like lava under his skin.

  So close. He was so close to being in the Gracie Mansion. Even the possibility that he could lose twisted his insides in a painful way. Damn it.

  “Can you come to the campaign office right now? We need to have a meeting about this.”

  “On my way.” He disconnected.

  Stalking away from Deanna’s diner, Alex wondered how saving a woman had ended up backfiring so severely for him.

  Kat blinked. Then double-blinked. Then triple-blinked. Tweets crashed into her Twitter feed like a hurricane, not stopping. All of them were about Alex and the mysterious video of him that had popped up all over the internet.

  Alex Summer, ladies and gentleman. Anger issues at their worst.

  This man wants to run New York? WTF?

  I’d vote for Hitler before I vote for Summer.

  I am ashamed to call @Alexsummer my competitor. Hopefully, justice is served to the man he injured. Amen.

  The last one was from Konstantinos Stephanopoulos, one of Alex’s competitors.

  Kat pressed the pads of her thumbs into her temples.

  Bad. This was really bad. Like shit-just-hit-the-fan bad.

  As she crawled through more hate Tweets, guilt washed over her, followed by anger. Some of them were so acerbic, they made her curl her toes. It was so wrong, people calling Alex these names. It wasn’t fair. All Alex had done was help her.

  But she wasn’t even visible in the video. And Kat had to admit, it did look pretty bad from the video alone. The last part, when he’d called out to her to dial for the police, was also missing.

  Obviously, the video had been edited to remove all the good parts and slay Alex’s character. She had enough experience in video editing to make it out.

  Another Tweet ran by her screen.

  She had to do something… anything to get him out of this mess. She had to make this libel stop.

  She called Susan first. Susan wrote one of the most widely-read political blogs in blogosphere—The Political Girl. If there was someone who had connections in the media world and could get word out quick, it was her.

  Thankfully, Susan picked up the phone quickly. “I didn’t know whether to believe it when I saw your ID on my screen. Kat, how’ve you been?”

  “I’m sorry, Suze. I’m calling for a favor. I need you to do something for me.” Her tone was breathy and hurried.

  “I guessed as much.” Susan slurped what Kat assumed was coffee. “So what’s it going to be?”

  “I want to write an article for your blog. Can you make sure it goes up ASAP? Also, I’ll send a video later. Can you have that up, too?” Back at her desk now, Kat multitasked, sending out a tweet on her Twitter profile affirming Alex’s innocence then opening a new Word document.

  Suze drew a sharp inhale. “Wow, what happened? I’ve been trying to get you to write an article for my blog since forever and you’ve always brushed me off. Now you’re offering to write one yourself. Did the earth start spinning the other way round?”

  “I want to write a witness account. A confession, of sorts. It’s not like the usual stuff on your blog, but it involves a politician and a hot issue. I’m sure your readers will find it relevant.”

  “What do you wanna confess?”

  “I was with Alex Summer when that video that’s been slaying the virtual world happened. I saw it all in detail.” She reached her head to the backrest of her chair. “It’s not at all what it looks like.”

  “Wait, it’s not?”

  “It’s been twisted around so badly, you wouldn’t believe.” Kat filled Suze in on the pertinent details. “So I need your help to clear the issue up. I can’t stand seeing all this hatred on social media. He saved my life, you know.”

  Suze didn’t think long. Since her blog wasn’t a news site, she didn’t have to.

  “Count me in. But are you sure you want to identify yourself as the victim? Just saying, but
admitting about rape, even attempted rape, can be traumatic and you’d be revealing your identity. After what happened at the beginning of the year… are you sure you want to take this risk?”

  An uncomfortable lump grew in Kat’s throat at the mention of that incident, but she washed it down with her spit. No time for panic.

  “I’ve gotten over that incident, Suze. It’s behind me. And I absolutely need to have my name on the article or people will doubt its credibility. Listen, if I email you a draft in about ten minutes, will you be able to get it up by nine?” Kat’s fingers were flying on the keyboard, punching out any coherent sentence she could string together.

  “Sure thing.”

  “And while you’re at it, can you please ask any other bloggers you know to share the article on social media? I’ll ask my editor to publish it on the Times’ blog.” She’d finished one paragraph and she was onto the next now.

  “No problem.” Suze paused. “You’re really going out of your way for this. I was convinced you didn’t like Summer as a candidate.”

  “That doesn’t matter. The guy saved me. I’ve gotta do something.”

  “I understand. You have to do what you have to do,” Suze exhaled. “But we’ve both been in this business long enough to know there’s no chance of him making a comeback from this.”

  “I’m still going to try my best. I’d feel awful if he lost because of me.”

  “Then here’s a piece of advice from me. You should be with him during his press conference. Seeing you there in person would make them buy into his story more easily. Like how Huma supported Anthony Weiner during his sexting scandal. I’m sure that helped his image, though he lost anyway.”

  There was an explicit warning of disappointment in there.

  “Irrelevant example, but I’ll do that.” Kat swapped Microsoft Word for Google Chrome. “Bye now.”

  Ending the call, she shot off phone calls to other journalists, bloggers and then to her boss, explaining the situation and asking for a day off.

  With all that done, she only had one more person to call.

  Alex.

  So she got down to it.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Alex. It’s Kat. I’m the woman you saved on the subway the other day.”

  “Ah. You.” Those two syllables were enough to convey the depth of his exasperation. “Are you better now?”

  “I’m back to normal, thanks. I didn’t fracture anything, which is good news...” Kat paused, recalling her purpose. “But maybe we should cut the small talk. I called you about the video. I’m deeply apologetic for that.”

  “You uploaded it?” Shock exploded in the question.

  “No! It wasn’t me. But whoever uploaded it, it’s caused you serious trouble.”

  “Thank you for the reminder.” The caustic note was only to be expected.

  Deciding that this was not the time to take offense at him, Kat announced her plan. “I want to help you.”

  “How?” Skepticism came through in his tone. She could almost visualize him raising his eyebrows.

  Kat spoke quickly, conveying her intention to be by his side during the press conference. He liked her idea and she was sure she heard some unvoiced gratitude.

  They talked for a few more minutes, fleshing out the details of what she was going to say, then he handed the phone to his press secretary, who listened to Kat and asked her to come to where the press conference was right away.

  Skipping her morning routine of breakfast and meditation, Kat dashed out.

  She kept her fingers crossed the whole way.

  The room in the Hilton where the press conference was being held was full to the brim with flashing cameras, whispering reporters and eager microphones when Kat looked out from behind the doors.

  Since arriving at the hotel fifteen minutes ago, everything had been a blur. One of Alex’s campaign volunteers, a young man named Bashar, had escorted her to a room at the back of the hotel lobby where Alex and his press secretary Selia had given her instructions on what to say and when to speak.

  Battling the sudden clench of nerves, Kat tried to find comfort in the richly paneled walls as Selia pelted Alex with last-minute questions and facts.

  “Remember, if they ask you about who he was and his—”

  “I’ll turn it over to Kat. She has the information on the guy. I know, Selia. I know,” Alex said.

  As Selia launched herself into the room to get the introductions done and set the scene for Alex’s speech, Alex drifted towards Kat.

  “Nervous?” he asked, with a touch of a smile on his lips.

  Kat pointed at the press conference room. “I’ve never been on this side before. I’m usually on the other side.”

  “You’ll do great, don’t worry.” He patted her shoulder and she recoiled, feeling the same spark she’d felt that night. She’d dismissed it as nothing then, but if it was persisting, maybe it was something.

  Flustered, she cast her eyes down. “Sorry for causing you all this trouble.”

  “Too late to say that now.” When she faced him with an apologetic expression, he waved it away. “I was kidding. It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s not yours, either,” she maintained. “But it’s going to cost you a lot of votes.”

  “I’ve been through worse.” He appeared to be wondering whether to say anything more. He chose not to.

  “I hope it turns out well,” she murmured.

  Otherwise, she’d feel awful. As a voter, she didn’t particularly favor him, but he had every right to be able to run a campaign and have a fair shot at victory.

  “By the way, thanks a bunch for paying for me that day. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped me out. I was in such a mess. God, I still can’t believe I forgot my bag at the station. It’s lucky that the officers managed to pick it up, or I’d be in a soup.”

  Alex waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it.”

  “I donated the money I owe you to your campaign.”

  “Your donation is much appreciated.” Alex crossed his arms and drummed his fingers against his upper arm.

  Kat started to admire his chiseled jaw, when a voice called to him. “It’s time to go.”

  Some of his volunteers sailed past her to open the door to the conference room, then Kat was thrust into a sea of blinking lights.

  It was five minutes shy of eleven pm when Alex and Kat left the TV station of Fox News.

  Stretching her hands over her head, Kat yawned. “I thought today would never end.”

  Tiredness kicked at her bones when the humid air of summer enveloped her.

  After the press conference (which had gone pretty well), one thing had led to another and Alex’s press secretary had told Kat that she’d have to accompany him to all the radio and TV interviews that Selia had lined up for him.

  Because she felt guilty about the whole thing, Kat had obliged. As a bonus, she was going to get her five minutes of fame tomorrow when her face appeared alongside Alex’s on every news channel and radio show.

  People would definitely call. She’d not told her parents or friends about the subway molestation. They worried way too much and she didn’t want them to.

  “Hurry up,” Alex said, marching ahead. Since Selia and Ahmed had left earlier and she refused to walk to the subway station alone, Kat was tagging along with Alex.

  “Wait up.” Swinging her handbag over her shoulder, she curled her lip when she saw him bounding faster. “What did you have for breakfast? LSD?”

  “Ambition.” He licked his lips, and she felt heat shift inside her again. The shudder between her legs was decidedly sexual.

  Maybe she should have used her vibrator last week, after all. Abstinence made her horny at inappropriate moments.

  Alex fished out a pack of Marlboro Reds from his pocket and held it out to her. “Do you want one?”

  “Nuh-uh. I’m too health-conscious to poison my lungs with nicotin
e.” Kat locked her arms in front of her chest.

  Paying no heed to her words, he lighted a cigarette and breathed out the first puff of polluted air.

  Having that smoke around made her frown. Passive smoking was more dangerous than active smoking.

  “Why haven’t you quit smoking yet?” Kat asked. “I’m sure you know how bad it is for your health.”

  “Because I can’t.” Frustration was threaded through his voice. “And I don’t want to anymore.”

  “You should try again. It’s common to fail the first few times. A friend of mine recently quit after struggling for years. There’s a lot of support available these days.”

  “I’ve been smoking for too long to quit.” He tipped his head back.

  “How long?”

  “Over thirty years now.”

  It took three seconds for her to process that. Then she gasped. “You started at sixteen? That’s underage. How can you harm your lungs at that age? And how did your parents not say anything?”

  He peeled the cigarette away from his lips, eyeing her curiously. “I didn’t have parents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Backtracking, Kat tried to recall what she’d read about his past in his biography. Well, there had been no mention of parents anywhere, but she’d not thought the omission important.

  “Who did you grow up with, then? Relatives?” Flapping her hands to fight off the gray-black cloud of air that was winding its way towards her nose, she distanced herself from Alex.

  “No one. I just drifted from foster family to foster family, I guess.” His gaze momentarily lost focus.

  Absently, he pushed away a wayward strand of hair that had fallen into her eye, his thumb pad brushing her forehead in a languid, sensual curve.

  Kat would have expected her muscles to clench at the unwanted bodily contact, but they loosened instead, as if Alex had done the most natural thing in the world by touching her.

  The texture of his skin, rough and gritty, sent an earthquake down to her belly when his thumb traced the arch of her eyebrow. Eyebrows were hardly the most intimate part of the female anatomy. Even so, the spot between her thighs moistened with heat.