“Radio silence?” Michele asks.
I nod.
"We won't be taking any additional calls or emails until further notice," I say. "Make sure everyone is clear on that."
She nods her head in agreement and hurries off to share the news.
Again, I search every corner of my brain for answers, and the only name that keeps comes up is Vivian's. Could Vivian be behind this media leak? Could Liam?
Did one of them just stab me in the back?
We just spoke and everything seemed fine. I didn't detect anything out of the ordinary. If anything, it was one of the friendliest meetings we've ever had … outside of the limo.
If one of them is behind this…why?
19
Liam
“Another beer?” the bartender asks me and I nod my head, watching the television.
The people around me are fucking quiet. The bar around me is pretty quiet too. They’re watching the TV, glued to what they’re seeing.
Carter cancelled dinner yesterday. But I got it. What I don’t get is how this is blowing up.
And it’s blowing up badly. Every hour brings more and more shit to be thrown so it can hit the fucking fan.
“Preliminary reports obtained by the New York Daily Journal indicate now that a three way sex triangle has evolved between Mayor Liam Jeffries, Governor Carter Andrews, and Senator Vivian Hawthorne. Sources at the paper are tight lipped as to how this information was obtained…” the reporter on television continues.
Fucking media. Fucking reporters. We were so fucking close to a deal. We were so goddamn close to figuring a lot of this shit out.
Of course the people who know me in New Kingston don’t know what to say to me. They stay away, not sure who or what I am anymore. Actually, I’m not sure who or what I am anymore. Have I betrayed the people of this town? I’ve been fighting for them. I wasn’t looking to sell them out.
“However we can confirm from what we’re hearing that the three leaders were close to putting together a deal that was acceptable to the Governor. No word of the specifics of that deal has emerged right now…” the reporter goes on and I realize he’s just made it sound like I was ready to sell out this town all for some pussy.
Jesus fucking Christ. I need to get ahold of this train before it destroys everything I’ve worked to build. I take out my phone and look through my contacts. I see it right there. I need to call him. I need to call Carter.
I never thought I’d ever be in this situation, but fuck it. I’ll do anything for the people of this town. And right now, the only thing that there’s left for me to do is go to the one person I used to hate to see if I can’t make this right.
“Office of the Governor,” the voice on the ot
her side of the line addresses me upon picking up my call. She sounds like an intern. Working for free. Maybe put it on her resume for after college. Hoping to get picked up by one of the political clubs around the state. Maybe run for office one day. Look to break the fucking glass ceiling.
“Let me talk to the Governor,” I say curtly, taking a sip of the beer that’s in front of me.
I wait for a minute as the girl on the other end of the line takes a breath. “I’m sorry, but the Governor isn’t taking any calls right now,” she answers me calmly.
He’s probably in a meeting. I can understand what that guy must be going through. I mean, it may sound like a fucking cliché, but after we had sex—and yeah, I didn’t fuck him or anything like that—but whatever we did together I’m classifying as sex—I did a lot of thinking. Sure, the guy grew up wealthy. But that doesn’t make him responsible for the problems that I had growing up. He’s not the cause of it. I can see that he’s trying to do what he thinks is right. So what if I don’t agree with him 100% percent of the time? We’re both fucking American and we love this country. And this state. We’re trying to do the right thing in our own way.
“Let me leave a message for him then,” I say patiently. She’s just doing her job. No need to get snappy with her.
“I’m sorry, the Governor isn’t taking any calls or messages at the moment,” she replies back without any pause this time.
What. The. Fuck.
What the fuck is going on? Is Carter trying to lock me out of this? Doesn’t he fucking realize that I have as much invested in this shit as he does? That if he’s locking me out and trying to make plans that could screw me over that’s not fucking cool?
“What do you mean he’s not taking any fucking messages?” I snarl into the phone, my annoyance coming out. A few of the people in the bar look my direction. There’s wariness in their eyes. As if they’re trying to feel me out. “Why are you even bothering to pick up the goddamn phone then? Why not just turn it the fuck off?”