by Sara Celi
“Or what?” I whispered.
Kathryn narrowed her eyes at me, then turned her attention to him.
“Or I’ll release the photos. The ones you don’t want anyone to know about. The ones that could ruin your career forever.”
“You wouldn’t do that, Kathryn.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Kathryn tossed her Louis Vuitton handbag on the table and took a seat in one of the accompanying chairs just inches away from the place where I’d been eating Alex’s pussy. “I’ve told you before, darling. I like you—a lot—and we get along, but that doesn’t mean you should take me, or any of this, for granted. Ever.”
“I never have.” My jaw hardened and I glared at her. “You know that.”
“Those photos will ruin you.”
“Probably.” I sighed as the weight of her threats began to sink into my shoulders. “But those photos also aren’t your property.”
“They are now. Everything has a price. You, this campaign, secrets.” She leaned forward, talking once again only to me. “And being a Van der Loon means knowing how to play all of it.”
“Hang on.” Alex glanced back and forth between us. “I don’t understand. What photos?”
Kathryn shot her a tight smile. “Sit down, honey. There’s a lot about Patrick Blanco that you simply don’t know.”
“Don’t call me honey.” Alex snarled, but she followed Kathryn’s orders and took a place across from her at the conference table.
Reluctant and resigned, I did, too. What else was I going to do? Kathryn had me by the balls. No, not just Kathryn. My past had me by the balls. Good fucking grief.
“Look,” I said as my mind raced. Kathryn held some major cards, and I didn’t want her to win this round. “I’ve made mistakes in my life. A lot of them, but there is no need to do this. No need to put her through this.”
“Why not? I would think after your—whatever this is, you’d at least give her the courtesy.” Kathryn made a dismissive gesture. “If you’re not going to tell her the truth, darling, then I will.”
A beat passed, and the three of us stared at each other.
“No, I’ll do it.” I finally said, then I let out a defeated sigh. “You’re right. She deserves to know.”
“Damn straight I do,” Alex said, a little too loud for it to be fully under her breath. “And you’re going to tell me.”
I leaned back and studied the two ladies who, over the last six months, had unexpectedly become the two most important women in my life. One of them represented everything I wanted when it came to my professional career. The other represented everything I needed inside.
And right then, both of them scowled at me.
“This isn’t easy to talk about,” I said.
“The truth never is.” Alex crossed her arms.
“When I was in college, I had trouble with the workload at George Washington,” I began, realizing there was nothing to do but just admit the sordid truth. “I did great in high school, but once I got to college, things changed at GWU.”
“George Washington?” Alex frowned. “You graduated from Ohio State.”
“This is the part no one knows about,” I said with a slow nod. “I got in trouble during my freshman year. Started drinking really hard. Too much fast living. It spiraled into—cocaine.”
“What?” Alex’s eyes widened. “Coke?”
“My roommate got it cheap, and we did it to stay awake. We could party all night and still make it to class in the mornings. It was…a hell of a thing.”
“Cocaine is like that,” Kathryn said. “Just ask half of Manhattan.”
Alex narrowed her eyes and glared at Kathryn.
“My usage got out of control, and when I went home for winter break that year, my parents realized something was wrong. They took me out of school, gave me a semester to get clean, and then I re-enrolled at OSU.” I smiled at Alex halfheartedly. “They threatened to cut me off if I ever did it again, if I ever fell back into that kind of problem. And I didn’t.”
“But the past never stays in the past.” Kathryn propped her elbows on the table and closed her hands together, studying the two of us. “And of course, someone at GWU bothered to get plenty of photos during all of those wild nights of partying.”
“Photos that didn’t show up until we announced my candidacy for president,” I added. “Photos that came with a price tag.”
“Who had them?” asked Alex.
“Some of my father’s business associates acquired them for us after we received an email demanding $250,000. We didn’t ask questions. We just took care of it.” Kathryn waved her hand. “That’s how this kind of thing must be handled. Quickly and simply. No mess.” She turned to me. “But the set you have in the safe deposit box in Ohio isn’t the only set, Patrick.” She paused. “I have one, too.”
I closed my eyes and my shoulders slumped. “Of course you do.”
“And that’s why you’re going to do what I want.” Kathryn lowered her voice and it wound around me like a snake crushing its prey. “You’re going to make sure this little…episode…stays in the background and doesn’t get out, or I’ll leak the photos to a few of my favorite reporters. There’s no denying that it’s you, and you know it.”
“If you do that,” Alex said, “won’t you suffer, too? A lot can be said about a woman who wastes her time on a guy with a drug problem.”
Kathryn laughed once without humor. “Oh, trust me, honey. I’ve already thought about that, and my team is already in place. We’ll spin this. After all, I’m the one who’s the victim here, right? The victim of a man with too many secrets and overwhelming personal ambition?”
I opened my eyes and glared at her, feeling an ache beginning in the back of my head, right where my skull met my neck. Somehow, I’d lost control of my whole damn life. Me, who prided himself on being careful and controlled, who’d worked so hard to keep the past in the past, now faced a threat that could undo everything I had ever worked for over the last fifteen years.
“Okay, Kathryn,” I said. “You win. We’ll play ball.”
As I rode the elevator alone, I couldn’t figure out what bothered me the most. Was it the way Kathryn talked to Patrick? The way Patrick allowed her to speak to him? Or was it that he hadn’t told me any of it?
When I got to my room, I fell on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I’d been so stupid the last few days and risked everything. Who was I to think anything good could come from this? Patrick Blanco had a future, a major one, and the last thing I wanted to do was be the reason that failed. I didn’t want to jeopardize things for me, him, or even Kathryn. Everyone had something on the line, and I knew that.
I had always known that.
After a while, I changed into my black yoga pants and a vintage t-shirt. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, flipped on the TV, and let the hum of cable news drown out my thoughts as I blindly surfed the Internet looking up various meaningless things to keep my mind off what Kathryn had just revealed. I watched YouTube videos on beauty tips, updated my IG account, read three dozen meaningless Facebook statuses, scrolled through news articles on Twitter, and replied to a few stray Snapchats.
It all felt so meaningless.
Defeated, I turned to the hotel TV and ordered a movie. Even the latest on-demand comedy starring Melissa McCarthy and a shot of vodka in my sparking water didn’t help clear my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick, Kathryn, the campaign I had devoted months to, and what the fallout would be if it blew up in our faces.
Damnit.
Around midnight, I yanked myself off the bed, slipped on a pair of Sperrys, and wandered down the hall. Patrick’s door got three sharp raps from my left hand.
“You know, we really need to talk,” I said when he opened the door. “I don’t know who you think you are, but whoever it is, I’m not sure I like it.”
Patrick’s eyes widened as he opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”
“Is Kathryn here?”
“She’s out.” He glanced at her open bedroom door. “She didn’t say when she’ll be back. But please, come in.”
Only then did I notice that he wore a bathrobe and smelled like a fresh shower and aftershave. I breezed past him, willed my expression to stay blank, and sat down on the couch. “What happened down there…was bullshit.”
Truth told, I was making this up as I went.
“Fair enough.” Patrick locked the door and walked back into the main part of the hotel room. He sat down in the chair across from me. “Which part?”
“You did drugs? Coke?”
Patrick nodded.
“When were you going to find time to tell me this? When were you—?”
“Everyone has a past.”
“Not like that. That’s a big one. The kind of thing that comes out during an election like this one. I’m your communications director, for Christ’s sake, and I’m supposed to be aware of these kinds of liabilities. And that’s to say nothing of what we—” I broke off, crossed my arms and sank further into the couch. “I just thought you were smarter than this.”
He nodded.
“This whole week has been nothing but endless drama. First you tell me you’re in a fake relationship, then someone claims you are the father of her child, we sleep together, and now this… I expected a lot when I took this job, but not this much.”
“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I planned on telling you.” Patrick studied me. “Just not the way Kathryn did.”
“She’s ruthless.”
He agreed. “The thing you have to understand is that she’s focused on one thing and one thing only. Herself.”
“Don’t try to explain it to me or justify it. I tried to accept all of this, and to understand, but I’m realizing now that I can’t. Nothing you say is going to make me understand it. Not her name, not the money they have, not the power you think you’ll get from her—none of it.”
Patrick slowly shook his head. “Fair enough. And you have a right to be pissed off. We’re… I mean the campaign…is in over our heads, and I don’t mean just with her.” He braced his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor for a beat. When he looked at me again, his expression had softened. “She’s not you, though.”
I sniffed. “No one else is.”
“And that’s why I like you, Alex. You know who you are, you know what you want, and you won’t let anything get in your way.”
“Especially not entitled East Coast princesses who think they have the campaign by the balls—the campaign I worked my ass off to create.” I grinned at him. “Or Midwestern train wrecks with less-than-spotless pasts.”
“Midwestern train wreck?” He laughed. “That’s a new one.”
“Oh, I can get more descriptive than that. Let a few more skeletons show up and you’ll find out.”
“There’s nothing else in my closet. Promise.” Patrick held up one hand in mock surrender. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
Patrick seemed sincere and I wanted to forgive him, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I didn’t want to fold in front of him or let down my defenses just yet. He hadn’t lied to me outright, but he had committed a lie of omission, one that threated to damage everything we’d worked for in the last few months.
“We can’t afford to make many unforced errors or get tied up in our own mistakes, okay? The newest polls have you almost tied with Sayers, and you see on an upward trend, but we can’t get too comfortable.” I sighed. “We’ve worked too hard to jeopardize everything.”
“Agreed. And this is only the beginning. We’re going all the way with this. All the way to the White House.” Patrick moved over to the couch, and sat down opposite me. “And I’ve made a decision about this mess with Kathryn. I’m going to end it after the South Carolina primary.”
“What about the promises you made her? The ambassadorship? The money?”
He sighed. “I don’t care anymore. It’s not worth it. I’m sacrificing too much.” Patrick leaned closer to me. “Besides, if she tries to use the photos as leverage and goes to the media with them, I think we handle it. Especially if we’ve already won South Carolina. Riding it early just means that it’s old news by the general election.”
“Cocaine is a hard drug.”
“But it’s also a story about redemption. I made mistakes, just like everyone else, and I owned up to them. I got help before it got out of control.”
Patrick placed a cautious hand on my thigh and his touch sent a pulse though me, one that radiated from my toes to my head. I wanted nothing more than to respond to him. I wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to open myself to him and to the possibilities of all this, but I didn’t.
Instead, I stood from the couch.
“I need to think, and we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” I said, gazing down at him. “We both need to get some sleep.”
We said goodnight, and I walked back to my own room. I didn’t fall asleep until almost an hour later, and when I did, I didn’t dream at all. I woke up the next morning in a sweat.
The Koger Center for the Arts seated over two thousand, and the debate between myself and Howard Sayers attracted a sold-out crowd who’d lined up hours to grab open seats. Darla Martin and Kevin Spears from CNN had agreed to moderate the debate, and the cable outfit planned to air it nationally on all platforms. The State also kicked in a few thousand dollars to co-sponsor the night.
When Kathryn and I arrived, I insisted on stopping by the crowd that hadn’t yet made it inside. I signed autographs and took selfies with potential voters. She took a few, too, smiling casually as she indulged herself in every moment of it. Never mind the fact that she hadn’t said more than five words to me the whole day.
By the time we reached the dressing room, I had never been more interested in seeing my team, changing into a fresh tie, and eating a small dinner before the debate began. I found Alex there, along with a sweaty-looking Doug, a nail-biting Heather, and a few members of the security team.
“Why so glum?” I asked, walking into the small room. “What’s going on?”
Alex wouldn’t meet my gaze, and Doug sighed.
“What?” I demanded. “Just tell me.”
“It’s the latest polling,” Doug said. “The State just released it online, something they did in combination with Gallup and CNN. You’re still three points behind, and the needle has barely moved.”
“That’s within the margin of error.” I took care to say this as calmly as possible. “Three points is nothing. It can be overcome.”
“In two days? South Carolina votes on Tuesday,” Alex said. “Tuesday. It’s Sunday night already.”
“Nothing we do is working,” Doug said.
“We still have plenty of time. And we all know the polling across the state is all over the place,” I said.
“The Sayers campaign has also dropped a new ad. We saw it air in the ABC station. They’re hammering you on the womanizing thing and painting you as a cheating philanderer.” Doug took a sip from the bottle of water he’d been rotating back and forth in this hands. “They aren’t letting up. It’s very convincing.”
Kathryn cleared her throat, and I glanced over at her, hoping to see reassurance on her face. I didn’t find it.
“I’m sure this issue will come up tonight during the debate.” Alex got up from her leather chair and paced the small waiting room. “They won’t let this opportunity pass, and when they do, you’ll need to be ready with an honest-sounding, clear response. You can’t dodge it.” She stopped and when she turned to me, I thought I saw pain flicker across her face. “You’ve got to make sure everyone in that room believes that you love Kathryn, and Kathryn alone. You want them to forget all about Amanda-what’s-her-face from Ohio.”
I nodded and took Kathryn’s hand. “I will. We will.”
Alex’s attention dropped to our interlinked hands for a beat. When she looked up again, the skin around her eyes had tightened.
“Everything is riding o
n tonight.” Heather stopped chewing her index fingernail. “We have a good night here, we have a chance to make it out of South Carolina. We have a bad night—”
“Don’t think that way.” I held up a hand. “I won’t allow that kind of pessimism in this campaign, okay, folks? We’ve worked too hard and done too much for us to throw in the towel and give up before the fight has even begun. That’s not the kind of operation I’ve put together, and that’s not what I expect from you all. The three of you are some of the best operatives I’ve come across in a long time, and we have weapons that we haven’t even used. We’re going to win this primary, and then it’s on to Super Tuesday, and we’ll win there, too.” I broke my grip from Kathryn, raised my hand, and gestured to my team to do the same.
“Are we ready?” I called out, my voice upbeat once all of our hands collided.
“Ready,” five voices said back to me in unison.
“One, two, three, let’s do it!”
We clapped our hands together, then split apart just as a volunteer from USC’s student government burst into the green room.
“Senator Blanco,” she said. “It’s time.”
True to prediction, the grenade-like accusation came about ten minutes into the hour-long debate.
Governor Sayers and I stood twenty feet apart from each other on the stage, each of us flanked by a semicircle of American and South Carolinian flags. Behind us, a large board of slick graphics rotated between red, white, and blue, all of them designed just for the myriad of TV cameras in the media pool and across the auditorium hall. The moderators sat before us at a small table; beyond them and the bright stage lights, stretched the audience.
In the middle of answering a question about moral values, Howard Sayers turned to me. “I agree with most voters in this state—-what a man does in his personal life is almost as important as what he does when in public service. You don’t seem to understand that.”
