Where There's Smoke

by L. A. Witt

  I furrowed my brow.

  Ranya rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You didn’t think I caught on?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “I did. Trust me. And it didn’t work, did it?”

  “No. I’m just not sure what else to do.” I scrubbed a hand over my face and sighed. “You know, policy making and all that shit is infinitely less complicated than this.”

  “Jesse, darling, the study of nuclear physics is less complicated than your situation.”

  I shot her a glare. “I meant relationships in general. This mess is…”

  “A mess.”

  “A mess, yes.”

  “Understatement,” she said. “And it’s just going to keep getting worse. You know that, right?”

  I nodded. “So what do I do? I don’t want to hurt Simone any more than I already have. I don’t want to lose Anthony. I just…” I blew out a breath and shook my head. “I’ll take any advice I can get right about now.”

  “If it weren’t for all the political games you have to play,” she said, her voice gentle and sympathetic, “the answer would be obvious. Divorce Simone, let her go free, and then you and Anthony can do your thing with a clear conscience. But the election, that complicates things.”

  “It does. And I’m open to suggestions.”

  Ranya sighed. “If I had one, I’d share it, but I don’t have a clue how to clean all this up without someone getting hurt or blowing your chances at getting elected.”

  I rubbed my forehead with two fingers but said nothing.

  Ranya put her hand over mine, the gentle contact startling me. “I know you don’t need this on top of everything else. This is all obviously eating you alive, and the last thing you need is more guilt. But…”

  I took a breath. “Go ahead.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Think of how you’re feeling tonight. While Anthony is out with Slade.”

  “Okay…”

  “Your significant other,” she said. “Out with someone else while you’re sitting back here wondering what’s going on, probably imagining more than you should if you want to stay sane.” Her eyebrows rose.

  I watched her silently, waiting for her to finish the thought, but she said nothing. She watched me too, and something in her eyes told me all the pieces were there, the whole equation was written out, I just needed to put it all together. Make the connection. Figure out what—

  I flinched. “Simone.”

  Ranya nodded. “Yeah. For as much as she says she’s okay, you also insisted you’re okay with Anthony being out with Slade tonight.” When I winced, she said, “I’m sorry, Jesse. I know you don’t need that, but…neither does she.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Do you…do you really think this upsets her? Me being with him?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Even after she practically shoved me at him the day we met him?”

  “Definitely. And she’s probably put on a smiling face and told you it’s okay and said she hopes you two are happy together too.”

  “She did.”

  “Not surprised at all,” Ranya said. “Look, she knows it’s over, but that doesn’t mean she’s happy about it.”

  “Are either of us happy about it?”

  “Of course not. It’s got to be hell for both of you. And knowing you’re with Anthony, knowing you’re as happy as you are with Anthony is just salt on the wound for her. Even if you’re okay with her seeing Dean, honey, she’s not as okay as you think she is about you seeing Anthony.”

  I tapped my fingers on the stem of my wineglass. “And I’ve asked her time and again if any of this bothers her.”

  “And haven’t you told me, time and again, that Simone isn’t very good at processing, let alone communicating feelings?”

  I chewed my lip. “Good point. Still, I’ve honestly tried to be considerate of her. But you said yourself she’s seeing Dean. She’s moving on.” I paused, searching Ranya’s eyes for agreement and finding none. “Right?”

  She took a breath. “Okay, call it some more women’s intuition,” she said. “She’s got something going with Dean, but she’s not in love with him.” Ranya’s brow knitted together, and her tone was extra gentle as she said, “Not like she’s still in love with you.”

  The words hit me in the gut, forcing the breath out of my lungs.

  “Or like you’re in love with Anthony,” she added.

  “What? I’m—”

  “Jesse.” She eyed me. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just…don’t. I see it. Anthony probably sees it. And I know Simone sees it.”

  I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. Whether or not I was in love with Anthony was another argument, but if Simone had picked up on something and it hurt her, the details and semantics didn’t matter.

  “So I need to talk to her,” I said. “But…what do I say? I mean, what is there to discuss that isn’t already out in the open? Especially if she just keeps insisting she’s okay when we both know she isn’t?”

  “Just let her know you still care about her. That she’s still important to you, and she’s not just there to be arm candy until after the election.”

  “God.” I swallowed the lump trying to rise in my throat. “I want to say she knows that, but…maybe she doesn’t.”

  “Even if she does,” Ranya said softly, “it wouldn’t hurt either of you for her to hear it again.”

  “Good point.” I cleared my throat. “So what about Anthony?”

  “What about him?”

  “I mean, if this really does bother Simone that much, I don’t want to keep rubbing it in her face.”

  Ranya shrugged. “Keep it on the down low just like you’ve been doing. She’s given you her blessing, so it’s not like you’re cheating, but if you and Anthony go out of your way to keep it off her radar as much as possible, that should take some of the sting out for her.” She paused. “And I suppose I’ve already thrown a bunch of unsolicited advice out there, so what’s a little more?”

  I laughed quietly. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  She smiled, but it was fleeting. “Listen, the way you feel about Anthony. Don’t…don’t let Simone see that any more than she already has. Keeping the whole thing with him on the down low is the best thing you can do for her, but especially that part.”

  “Would it make a difference if I said I don’t even know how I feel about him?”

  This time her smile came to life more fully, but it was almost a sad one. “I think you do know, Jesse. I can certainly see it.”

  “Then how do I keep it from her?”

  Ranya shook her head. “I don’t know. Play it cool around Anthony, don’t talk to her about him, keep those little floaty hearts from appearing over your head like they always do when he comes in the room.”

  “Sounds easier said than done.”

  “It is. But for Simone’s sake…”

  “Yeah,” I whispered, staring into my wineglass. “For Simone’s sake.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Anthony

  As Slade and I strolled down the sidewalk, making a half-assed effort to take me back to my hotel, I said, “You mind if I have a smoke?”

  He shot me a disapproving glare. “You’re still munching on the cancer sticks?”

  “And loving every minute.” I pulled the pack out of my pocket and withdrew a cigarette. “If you have a problem with it, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  “Fine,” he said, feigning frustration. “If you absolutely must.”

  “Glad we understand each other.” I put the cigarette between my lips and pulled out my lighter. I stopped walking, cupped my hand around the end of the cigarette, and lit it. Once it was smoldering properly and I’d sucked in enough smoke to ensure that first craving-appeasing hit, I started walking again, and Slade fell into step beside me.

  “So what are you doing after the election?” he asked. “Got any more candidates lined up?”

  “Nah.” I turned my
head to blow out the smoke so it wouldn’t get in his face. “Can’t think that far head anymore. One campaign at a time.”

  “Can’t multitask anymore, old man?”

  I flipped him off as I took another drag. “Something like that.”

  “How’s that going to go with your new man, though?” Slade hooked his thumbs in his pockets and glanced at me. “I can see him putting up with one campaign, but if you jump on another one…”

  I held in the breath of smoke for a moment before releasing it through my nose. How would that work? Once Jesse was governor—he’d lose this election over my dead body—and I started on someone else’s campaign for fuck knew what office, how the hell did we maintain any kind of relationship?

  Shaking my head, I tapped the ashes into the gutter. “Who knows? I’ll deal with it when I get there, I guess.”

  “I hope you do,” he said.

  I looked at him, brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

  Grinning, he shrugged. “Just seems like what you’ve got going on isn’t…terribly temporary.” There was a note of sadness in his voice. Resignation, maybe.

  “I don’t know about that,” I said. “We’ll, you know, play it by ear.”

  “I’m sure you will,” he said, and some humor crept in to replace the momentary sadness. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you when it comes to relationships.”

  “You know me too well,” I said, chuckling.

  “Yes, yes, I do.” We stopped in front of my hotel, and Slade turned to me. “Well, much as I envy the lucky object of your affection, I have to say it’s good to see you in love like this, Anthony. Warms me right to the cockles.” His customary devilish grin pulled at his lips. “I said cockles, you dirty bastard.” With a wink, he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’ve had your chance at warming my—”

  “All right, all right,” I said, laughing. “That’s enough. And I am not in love.”

  “Uh-huh. And I’m not your wisecracking ex-boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow. “Meanwhile, back on planet Earth…”

  I dropped my gaze, watching myself smother my cigarette under my shoe.

  Slade laughed. “That’s what I thought. Anyway. It was good to see you again.”

  “You too, as always.” I hugged him, and he kissed my cheek. As I pulled back, I said, “Say hello to Eric for me.”

  “Will do. And you’ll say hello to…?”

  Jesse, I almost said without thinking. I cleared my throat. “Zach,” I said, summoning a recent ex-not-quite-a-boyfriend’s name. “His name is Zach.”

  Slade smiled. “Well, say hello to ‘Zach’ for me.”

  “Will do.”

  We said our good-byes, parting ways with our customary promise to see each other whenever we were in the same town again. He strolled across the street to his car, and we waved one more time before he drove off.

  I waited until he was out of sight before I pulled out my pack and lighter. It wasn’t at all below him to slam on the brakes, turn around, and pull up to the curb to scold me for smoking so heavily. But he was gone now, so, alone with my thoughts and running on autopilot, I smoked another cigarette. Almost had a third but decided that would be too close to chain-smoking. Eventually I went upstairs to my empty hotel room. I tossed my wallet and room key on the table beside my laptop case and sat on the edge of the bed.

  There were poll results and data to go over, but I didn’t even try. I couldn’t concentrate. All I could do was compare Jesse and Slade in my head. Not how they were as partners—much as I still loved him, Slade didn’t hold a candle to Jesse—but how our relationships played out.

  Slade and I had kept things quiet from my family and colleagues, but there wasn’t some outside pressure forcing us to keep it a secret or face irreversible consequences. Our relationship was dead and buried, but there were things about it I missed. I wanted to be with someone I could banter and flirt and drink with in public. I didn’t want to have to watch my every move, think about every fucking word, watch for cameras, watch for eavesdroppers. I wanted something sane and normal and…

  Fuck, what did it matter? Slade was right. I put up with a lot to be with Jesse. Yeah, that crap was frustrating, and when I was alone like this, it was easy to tell myself what I should do about it, just like it was easy to tell myself all the very real reasons why Jesse and I shouldn’t do this. But what happened every time we were breathing the same air again? Any resolve I had collapsed. It wasn’t even a matter of telling myself I’d just enjoy this one last time and next time I’d end it like I should. One look at Jesse and I didn’t give a fuck.

  Yes, our relationship was a hassle and a headache.

  But like no other relationship I’d ever had, it was worth it.

  Which begged the question, why the fuck was I sitting alone in my hotel room?

  I looked around, searching for a convincing visual alibi to tell anyone who saw me that I had a legitimate, professional reason to go into Jesse’s hotel room this time of night. There was no shortage of reasons and alibis; campaign managers and candidates always burned the midnight oil together even when they weren’t fucking.

  I tucked a stack of file folders under my arm, picked up a couple of thick binders, and left the room. I walked casually but quickly down the hall to Jesse’s room and knocked.

  Ranya answered. She clicked her tongue and sighed dramatically. “Oh. It’s you.” Then she winked and pulled the door all the way open. “Jesse, boss man’s here.”

  “At this hour?”

  I was about to make a smart-ass comment like Is that a problem? but as I stepped into the room, I realized why his PA had answered the door for him. Though there weren’t many people who’d come knocking this late at night, it was just as well he didn’t throw open the door to his room when he was dressed only in a pair of jeans. Seeing him like that—reclined on the bed with one hand behind his head and a beer in the other, bare feet crossed at the ankles and not a damn thing covering those smooth, flat abs—almost made me drop my folders and binders.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Please tell me you’re not coming in here with bad news at this hour.”

  I laughed, which got my breath moving. “No, no.” I put the books on the table with a heavy thud. “Just some shit we need to go over, and tomorrow’s going to be a busy one.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered into his beer bottle and took a long swallow.

  “Well, if you boys are going to go over that crap,” Ranya said, “I’m going to call it a night.”

  I snickered. “You don’t want to stay and discuss poll results?”

  “I’d rather clip my grandfather’s toenails with my teeth.” She clicked off the movie they’d been watching. “You boys have fun, though. I’m going to go get some sleep, assuming all this coffee doesn’t keep me up until Armageddon.”

  “Well, if you need help getting to sleep”—I held up one of the binders—“we could probably knock you out with one of these.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “With the content? Or as a blunt object?”

  I looked at the binder in my hand and laughed. “I meant the content.”

  “Sure you did.” She pointed at me, her bracelets jingling with the sharp gesture. “I’m watching you, Hunter.”

  “Color me scared,” I said.

  She shot me what was probably supposed to be a menacing look, but then giggled. “All right. Good night, boys.”

  “Good night,” Jesse and I both said.

  As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Jesse set his beer bottle on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He swallowed hard. “So, um, how was your evening with Slade?” His voice was devoid of suspicion or jealousy. If anything, it held a note of uncertainty. Maybe even barely cooled panic, like he’d sensed an intruder and wondered how much danger that intruder posed.

  “Not bad,” I said. “Always good to catch up with an old friend.”

  Jesse’s eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly.

&n
bsp; I dropped my gaze. “Okay, an ex-boyfriend.”

  “I thought so,” Jesse said with a soft laugh. “You two just had that vibe, I guess.”

  I met his eyes. “Apparently we weren’t the only ones.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Slade picked up right away that there’s something going on between us. Which means it’s only a matter of time before someone else does.”

  “He’s your ex. He’s more in tune to you than other people.”

  “Yeah, but the media can pick up on things like that if they look hard enough.” I rolled my shoulders. “That said, I did manage to convince him he was imagining things and that I was seeing someone but not you.”

  “Good save,” Jesse said. “I think.”

  “Any better ideas?”

  “No. I just hate that…” He gestured dismissively and sighed. “You know how it is.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “I do.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened slightly. “Something wrong?”

  I chewed my lip. Avoiding his eyes, I sat beside him on the bed. “I guess I’ve…been thinking a little.”

  “About?” His hollow whisper gave away more underlying nerves.

  I took a deep breath. Staring at the floor beside the bed, I said, “What happens after the election? With us? You’ll still be watched like a hawk. Sooner or later, I’ll have another candidate to run.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Is what we’re doing worth it? Or are we just setting ourselves up for something that will burn us out?”

  Jesse sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. At this rate, I don’t even know when I’ll be divorced, let alone out.”

  “I know.”

  He cleared his throat. “So is this the part where we decide things are too complicated to continue?”

  “What?” I looked at him, eyes wide and lips apart. “No. God, no.”

  His brow knitted with worry. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. This is complicated. It will always be complicated. I know that, and I knew it from the beginning, but…” I sighed and rubbed my shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t want to end this, not by any means, but I guess tonight, the secrecy was just getting to me.”