Book Read Free

American Scandal (Their First Lady Book 1)

Page 9

by Lucia Black


  I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself. What had we done? What had I done? I couldn’t go the rest of my life without fucking like that. I wouldn’t be able to stand constantly being so near him, and not being able to have him. And even worse, what about when he found a wife? How could I be around her without wanting to smack her out of pure jealousy that she got to have Preston, and I didn’t?

  This was one giant mess. I owed it to him to tell him the truth, or as much of the truth as I could tell. I had to tell him I was dating Cal. And I would have to deal with the repercussions of it. I buried my head in my hands and sighed. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt anybody. But I couldn’t drag this out. It would only make it worse. I steeled my spine and left the bathroom, fully intent on having the talk.

  When I left the bathroom, he was no longer in my bed. I made my way to the kitchen on wobbly legs. Proof of what happened last night was all around the apartment. The askew coffee table, the knocked over floor lamp, the discarded clothes—god, last night was good.

  “I can’t find coffee,” Preston mumbled. He stood in my kitchen with a towel around his waist looking disappointed before he let out a big yawn.

  “Oh, I don’t have any right now. I can order some real quick. I, uh—I wanted to talk to you about something,” I started.

  “Mmm . . . no. Coffee. No talking without coffee.” He still looked half-asleep.

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”

  “Without coffee, I’m not even a person,” he mumbled.

  “I feel that way about a shower after I wake up. Okay, I’ll call the concierge and have some sent up, but I really do need to—”

  “Shhh,” he said, placing a finger over my lips to silence me. “First, coffee. Then, talk. You can go take your shower while I order it. I need to grab a paper too. A friend of mine wrote a featured article and I’d like to read it after my eyes are fully open.”

  I smiled at him as he leaned against the counter in my kitchen, his face still sleepy looking and his hair disheveled. I felt so sad inside. He was right here with me and I felt lonely because I knew what I was about to do. “I won’t be long,” I said and went to my bathroom.

  I locked myself in the shower and turned the water to a near-scalding temperature. I wanted nothing more than to live in this fantasy, even if for only one day. As I washed my body, the ache between my legs reminded me of what we had shared. I had it once, and I would do everything I could to hold onto it and remember. It would be all that I would have from him. I finished washing my hair, and turned off the water. I was firm in what I needed to do. I would tell him, as gently as I could, and as honest I could.

  I towel dried my hair and put my robe on. As I walked towards the kitchen, I could smell the coffee. I turned the corner to see Preston leaning against the island, two paper cups of coffee on the counter, but he had his clothes back on and a scowl on his face as he scanned the paper.

  “What’s wrong?”

  As a way of answering, Preston turned his glower on me, spinning the paper around to show me what he had been reading. It was two pictures of me and Cal. The one on the left was a photo of the two of us smiling at each other as we entered the restaurant. The one on the right was a shot of me leaving the restaurant alone and near tears, obviously distraught. The headline read “Trouble in Paradise for the Presidential Candidate?”

  I felt the heat creep up my neck and spread across my cheeks. I ripped the paper from his hands as if he hadn’t already seen it and folded it over to hide the pictures.

  “It’s all over the paper. It says you’ve been seen together multiple times. It says you both confirmed that you two are dating.” His voice was low and steady. Somehow that was worse than yelling.

  “I tried to . . . I . . .”

  “Try harder, Tessa. Now.”

  “I . . . you knew I was seeing someone.”

  “Not my best fucking friend! Not the man I am running for office with!” he yelled.

  “I didn’t know that when I met you,” I yelled back in a feeble attempt to defend myself. I was wrong. I knew I was wrong. Preston knew it too.

  He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s bullshit. You knew it five minutes later.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, closing my eyes. This was not how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to tell him. Not a picture. Not the papers. No the one time he actually looked at the news.

  “Why? Why him? What is all this to you?”

  I opened my eyes and gnawed at my bottom lip, my heart beating in my ears as I fought back hot, angry tears. “I told you it was complicated.”

  Preston fisted his hands in his hair and turned his back to me as if he couldn’t look at me. “Have you fucked him too?”

  I flinched when he said it. I didn’t want to hurt him, and this is the kind of person he thought I was because I was stupid and hadn’t the strength to tell him the truth. As I opened my mouth to answer, my phone rang. It was on the counter by the sink and next to Preston. He turned around and handed it to me. “It’s Cal’s assistant. I guess that answers that question.” He was careful not to touch my fingers when he gave me my phone. My heart sank.

  “That answers nothing.” I silenced the call and put the phone back down.

  He held my gaze for a long, painful moment; the hurt all over his face. “Then what is this, Tessa? You and him . . . then us last night?”

  “Preston, we—” My phone rang again. We both looked down at the screen. It was my dad. “I have to answer that.”

  “No, you don’t. What you need is to have this conversation with me and tell me why you kept this from me. Why you led me on—”

  My phone rang again, or maybe it never stopped. “I told you—”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s complicated. Whatever the fuck that means.” He headed for the door, brushing past me like I wasn’t even standing there. I watched him slam it behind him, jumping a little at the sound it made.

  I answered my father’s call.

  “Why the fuck am I reading this headline?” he roared, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “What the fuck happened?” He didn’t even give me time to answer before he started talking again. “Get over here now, Tessa. You need to fix this.”

  He called me Tessa just to punctuate how angry he was . . . as if what he said and how he said it wasn’t enough.

  “Yes, Papa.” I sucked in a breath, fighting the sob that wanted to break free.

  “Jimmy’s on his way up. Be ready to go.”

  “He’s what?” If Jimmy had been waiting for me, he could’ve seen Preston leaving and I’d be in even more trouble than I thought.

  I didn’t get an answer. He just hung up.

  Jimmy knocked on the door a moment later. I was still in my robe, but I opened it anyway.

  “I’ll be ready in five.”

  Chapter 15

  Jimmy didn’t say a word in the car. I wished he would’ve been his usual talkative self. Not that I wanted to chat with him—or anyone else—but because I would’ve welcomed anything to distract me from Cal and Preston. Once we got to my parents’ house, he hustled me right to my dad’s office. I knew it was serious. I knew I messed up; I just didn’t realize it was so bad I couldn’t even speak to my mother before getting yelled at.

  He kept me waiting a long time, forcing me to sit there and think about what I’d done. If only he knew. I probably should’ve been thinking of a strategy to minimize the damage that picture in the paper did, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Preston. I wondered about where he was and what he was doing, but mostly what he was thinking about me and how much I had hurt him. The pain I saw on his face was etched into my mind. He’d probably never want to see me again. I didn’t blame him. How did I think he was going to respond? Papers or not, what I had done was horrible.

  But it wasn’t even an option given our political situation.

  My mother k
ept the rest of the house warm and inviting, full of terra-cotta colors, plush throw rugs, and family portraits on nearly every surface. My father’s office was the opposite. It was a minimalist’s dream, lacking all warmth and personal details. The chairs were uncomfortable. Everything was in varying shades of black. He did it on purpose. It was unsettling and intimidating.

  “Well,” I eventually said to Jimmy. “Is he coming to talk to me?”

  He sat in a chair behind me, out of the way and next to the door. “He’ll be here soon.”

  I hated the way he was speaking for him like he knew my father better than I did. But he was right. Papa came in just a few short seconds later.

  When he opened the door, I jumped. My father strolled past me without a kiss or any greeting, carrying that damned newspaper with him. He took his usual spot in the oversized leather chair behind his sleek black desk.

  “What happened?” He threw the paper on the desk, folded over to the page with my pictures on it like I didn’t know what he was talking about.

  I kept my gaze trained on my hands fidgeting in my lap and refused to look at the paper or him. My emotions were too high. If I looked at him I’d cry, and tears weren’t going to work. For as much as Papa loved me, he expected things of me. I was his only living daughter. I was the only one who could do this for him.

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you don’t know, then why did this happen?” He kept his icy stare on me while he adjusted his tie. “I need a better answer. Make me understand, Tessa.”

  Thinking of how Cal acted that night made all the muscles in my back knot. I squirmed in my seat. He still refused to call me Mari. He wasn’t going to have any sympathy for me. “I don’t know because this is hard. It isn’t something I wanted. We’re very different people and we have nothing in common.”

  My dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have everything in common because you’re working for the same goal. This isn’t hard. Let him take you to nice dinners, wear pretty clothes, and smile for the cameras. Simple.”

  “It is hard,” I shot back.

  “Hard? Like I’m the bad guy for having you do this? Do you know what other girls would give to be in your position? Your sister—”

  “Do not bring her into this,” I begged. “Please don’t.”

  Papa softened for just a moment before clenching his fist on the desk and getting back to lecturing me. “Cal is the top priority in your life. Even work and school come second to him and his wants.”

  “His wants? He’s unstable! Or he hates me, or something. I don’t know. He’s impossible to deal with.” I wished Jimmy wasn’t sitting in on the conversation. I didn’t want him to hear about my issues with Cal.

  “This isn’t about feelings,” he roared. “I don’t care if you hate him and he hates you. This is the deal we all agreed to eight years ago. Eight years.” He pounded his fist on the desk and I jumped again. “You know what is expected of you, and you’ve never been this disobedient before. Where is your head?”

  “She’s been very distracted, sir,” Jimmy said.

  I turned to glower at him and flipped him off, careful that my father didn’t see. It made me feel like a child, but I didn’t care. “I don’t know what Jimmy thinks he knows”— I turned back around to face my dad—“but he’s a hired person. He’s a body. Hired to take me places and shut the fuck up when he talks too much.”

  “Enough!” He was losing all patience for me. I wasn’t saying any of the things he wanted to hear. “Jimmy’s job is whatever it is I tell him to do. And keeping an eye on you and reporting back to me is one of those jobs.”

  The idea of telling Papa just how closely Jimmy had been keeping an eye on me crossed my mind. He had gotten me in trouble with my father, so I wanted to get him in trouble. I imagined Papa blowing up on him, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him into the wall. Oh, it was tempting, but I wouldn’t have been spared his wrath. I was already in deep. I didn’t need to add any more heat to the fire.

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Clearly you do.” He pointed to the paper. “This is unacceptable. This can’t happen again. If I need someone on you twenty-four, seven, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  Everything was going wrong. Preston hated me, Cal hated me—even if I didn’t know why—and now Jimmy was going to have to watch me all day and all night. Everything was just supremely fucked up.

  “Yes, sir.” Compliance was the only option I had left.

  He nodded, and showed some relief on his face as he glanced at his watch. “Now, Cal is going to call you any minute. You are going to answer, you are going to be sweet, and you are going to do whatever he asks of you. And when you are in public, whether you’re with Cal or not, you will have a smile on your face. You are the picture of a woman in love. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and held back the tears as I fished my phone out of my purse and clutched it in my hands.

  All three of us sat there in silence. The tension in the room was so thick and suffocating, I could hardly breathe.

  When my phone rang just a moment later, I almost dropped it. As expected, it was Cal. I answered immediately.

  “Hi, Cal. I just need to apologize for last night. I didn’t handle it well and I can’t say enough how I’m sorry am. I hope we can move past my behavior,” I said, feeling the forced, bland words leave my mouth.

  I glanced at Papa who was nodding along in solemn approval. Groveling for no reason felt awful; and for once, making my father happy didn’t feel good either.

  “It’s fine,” Cal said. “You weren’t ready for that.”

  “Ready for wh—” I bit my tongue. I couldn’t very well demand to know what the hell he meant by that with my father and Jimmy in the room. There Cal went, making no sense again. “I appreciate you forgiving me,” I said through clenched teeth.

  He didn’t technically say he forgave me, but my father didn’t know that, and I needed him to think everything would be fine with Cal and me. Papa nodded again.

  “I’m going to be out of town for a couple of weeks with the campaign. A week after I return, there is another fundraiser in the city, and I’d like for us to be seen there together. We’ll really have to play the perfect, happy couple to make up for the damage, but it’s doable. Will you attend with me?”

  “Yes, of course. I look forward to it,” I lied.

  “Good. Karen will be in touch to make the arrangements.”

  He hung up the phone without a goodbye, and just like that, I was right back where I started, frustrated and feeling more alone than ever.

  Chapter 16

  My father didn’t apologize with words, but he did with money. Not that he was sorry for yelling. He’d yell at me again if he thought I made another mistake, but he was sorry that he had to. Mom stayed out of everything business related, even when it involved me, but when she called and asked if I wanted to go on a shopping trip a few days later, I knew she knew what happened.

  “Get the clutch,” she encouraged.

  I ran my finger along the supple goatskin of the Hermès Medor 23. It was beyond chic with its intricate silver clasp, intoxicating leather scent, and blue hue.

  Mama had her driver take us out to the good stores uptown and made appointments at my favorite places. We gorged ourselves on complimentary cheese, chocolate, and champagne, and I wasn’t sure we’d still have any room for our fancy lunch.

  I eyed the clutch. “It does match the Jimmy Choo’s perfectly.”

  I picked up the purse to test its weight in my hand. I knew its staggering cost. And considering I had to marry a man who treated me like Cal did, I figured I deserved a five-thousand-dollar clutch.

  “I’ll take it.” I told the attentive shop associate.

  Mama and I followed her over to the counter to test the limit of Papa’s credit card.

  “Those heels and that clutch with a stellar dress will make everyone forget about those pictures. Are you seeing him again
soon?”

  Absently, she ran a hand along the top of her head, checking for a misplaced hair in the bun she wore. She didn’t need to. Not a single dark hair was out of place. She handed the associate her card, not at all reacting to the total.

  I shook my head slightly. “Not until the fundraiser. I just have to get a new dress.”

  “Good thing we’re shopping, then.” She playfully bumped her shoulder into mine. “We’ll look for that next.”

  Not only did what we just spent not bother her, but she wanted to buy me more. She loved to spoil me. I collected my expensive packages and went to the car, telling the driver to take us to Barney’s. I cracked my window and looked up at the sky as we headed down Madison Avenue.

  “I love the city,” my mother said, closing her eyes and inhaling the crisp air.

  “Me too,” I agreed. “I guess my days here are numbered, though.”

  “Oh, baby. I don’t even want to think about it. Your whole life you’ve never been far from me. But as the First Lady you’ll just have to pick a cause that brings you to the city as often as possible.” She squeezed my arm and laughed as she added, “And there are always private jets.”

  The car pulled up to the curb and we got out. The scent of perfume and shiny new things blasted us as soon as we pushed open the doors to the department store. The honking and buzzing of the street was replaced with soft piano melodies.

  I hadn’t thought about leaving behind my life much until she had said that. I thought about the sacrifice of having to be with Cal and giving up on real love, but I didn’t think about the other things marrying him meant I'd be giving up. But once I did, a dark cloud hung over the shopping trip.

  “And you could come stay with me. All the time,” I said, trying to sound positive.

 

‹ Prev