by Ewens, Tracy
“Not with me. You don’t ever have to be that way with me. Kate, I’ll walk away before I will ever cheat on you. It’s not my thing. It’s a shitty thing to do to someone, let alone someone you love. If I ever fall out of love with you, I’ll tell you, straight up.”
“How can you say that? You can’t know.”
“Sure I can, can’t you? It’s a character thing, Kate. You know that as well as I do. Some people have it and some people don’t. I have all sorts of crap on my ‘to fix’ list, but infidelity is not one of them. When I’m with a woman, I mean . . . ”
Kate looked at him.
“When I’m with a woman exclusively.”
She laughed. “And how often does that happen?”
He smiled and wiped what looked like icing off of her cheek. “Well, I haven’t always been a settle-down guy. Never found the right person.”
Kate started to pull away and Grady held her arms.
“Until now. Now, what’s happened now is that I . . . well, I can’t see anything else. Anyone else. I’m not exactly familiar with what’s going on right now, but I can tell you that I never lied to any of the women I was with in my past. I didn’t see a need. I like honesty. I prize it over most things, so I give it to the people in my life.”
Kate seemed tired, and Grady imagined he often wore her out. She rested her head on him, and it felt like she was finally opening, giving herself in spite of everything.
“Me too,” she said, closing her eyes.
Grady lifted her face with both hands. “You too?”
“Me too. The honesty part. I’m that way. I don’t really know how to be any other way, but I think sometimes people think they’re honest, and then things happen and they find themselves in situations. Hell, I don’t know.”
“No. That’s not true. We all have certain . . . non-negotiables. Things that no matter what, we hold on to. You don’t falter on the non-negotiables.”
“You don’t. You’re right.” Kate looked into his eyes and he knew she believed him.
“Now about fattening me up.” Grady leaned toward the doughnut box and lifted the lid.
Kate came behind him, wrapped her arms under his arms and around his warm chest.
“This might be a strategy I can get behind,” he said.
Grady removed a long-john from the box, bit almost half way through, and looked over his shoulder at Kate.
“I think it has merit, but maybe not the clothes and the smell,” Kate said, as she moved to his neck. It sent jolts of heat through Grady’s entire body. He turned to face her, offering a bite of his doughnut.
Kate took a small bite, closed her eyes and moaned, “This place really knows how to make a doughnut.”
Grady was still hanging on her moan as he popped the last bit of doughnut into his mouth. “They are good. Kate,” he said, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “What about the Porsche? Please say we can keep the Porsche?” He gently kissed her neck and Kate’s head fell to the side allowing him in. “We could . . . ,” he trailed kisses along her collar bone, “maybe limit it to weekends?” Kate mumbled a few inaudible words as he moved to her ear while his hands found her hair. “Was that a yes to the Porsche, Kate?” He could feel her smile against his jaw.
“Fine,” her breath was coming in fast now. “The Porsche stays, but we are going to have lots and lots of doughnuts.” Grady pulled the sweatshirt over her head, tossed it aside, and kissed her. Her lips opened on a sigh and he took more, needed more. They bumped into the entryway table, knocking the doughnuts over.
Kate turned and they both laughed. “You need to eat those,” she said and started to crouch and pick them up, but Grady lifted her into his arms.
“Later. I’ll eat them all, every last one, but first I need to build up an appetite.” He carried her to his bed and found out that her pajamas were in fact silk, and so was everything underneath.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When Kate entered Bracknell and Stevens the next morning, Mark was already talking on his phone and pacing outside his office. He at least looked showered, which was a step up from yesterday’s fiasco. As Kate walked past him, toward her office, he gestured with his free hand that she needed to go into his office. She set her things on the chair just inside her own office, and returned to Mark as he was finishing his conversation.
“Yes, yes, I’ve got that, but I’m not sure what else we can do at this point, Stanley. We are, yes. This the eleventh hour and you mentioned that things are looking good. I’m just wondering if you are being a little—right, no of course not. Already done. Yes, it’s . . .” Mark leaned over his desk, searching, and then grabbed a piece of paper.
Kate felt like she should do something to help, but she was afraid to move. He was like a one-man band.
“Here it is, yes, the ad was already proofed. It’s fantastic. I sent you a copy. Okay, I will send it again. Listen, Kate just got in and we need to go over some things. Right, yes, I will talk with you at one o’clock. Great, thank you.” Mark hung up the phone and leaned both hands on his desk, head hung low while he regained what Kate was sure would be his last shred of composure.
“That was Stanley?” Kate asked, hoping Mark would clarify the whole conversation.
He nodded, still maintaining his brace on the desk.
“And . . . things are good?” she asked.
Mark looked up. The circles under his eyes had gotten darker. Kate wasn’t sure how that was possible. Mark finally stood, ran a hand over his face, and took a sip of coffee.
“Things are good, but Stanley is panicking. Hookergate really threw everything into a tailspin.”
Kate made a move to speak, but Mark continued. “I know it was bogus crap, not even a good smear attempt, but to hear Stanley tell it, it still got media time. It still left a mark.”
Kate didn’t bother arguing. She was trying to stay neutral. Sleeping with the client, or son of the client, was a bad idea all the way around. Mark still thought Kate was barely tolerating Grady, and she wanted to keep it that way, at least until Election Day.
“I didn’t see anything in my reports this morning. Has it affected the polling numbers?” she asked carefully.
Mark shook his head and took a seat at his desk. “Like not even half a point. It was a blip. They know it was a blip, but Stanley enjoys riding my ass. I’m really starting to feel like a trained dog on this one, Kate. They’re killing me.”
“I know. Anything I can do?”
Mark clicked his mouse and looked at his computer screen.
“No. You’ve been great. The last two stops you have with Grady, any issues? Please say there are no issues because I’m not sure I can take it at this point.”
“Not one. I’ve confirmed the addresses, transportation, and the details. We even have the dress code. It will go off without a hitch. Grady was just saying this morning that we are in the home stretch.” Kate froze. Shit, that was too familiar. This morning, Kate? Why not just say after the two of you got out of the shower? She looked out the window to avoid eye contact.
“Good, good.” Mark wasn’t even looking at her. He was engrossed in his computer screen.
Kate took the opportunity and stood to leave. She made it to the door.
“Wait, this morning? It’s eight o’clock and you’ve already spoken to Grady?”
Kate nodded, her pulse picked up.
“Great work, Kate. I mean, to think you were pulling your hair out just a few months ago. Things have certainly improved, right?”
Kate smiled. “They really have. I’ve learned to work well with Mr. Malendar.” This was super awkward.
Just as Kate’s mind told her everyone knew, Mark laughed. “Lighten up. I’m sure you call him Grady by now.”
Kate’s face warmed as she remembered panting his name just a couple of hours ago when he woke her up early before she had to leave for work. Things were certainly going well this morning, but there was no way in hell Mark needed to k
now that.
“Okay, well, I’m going to get started on my day. Let me know if you need anything else,” Kate said, backing toward the door.
Mark nodded, still looking at his computer, as if she’d taken his lunch order. Kate slipped out just as his phone rang again. She quietly closed the glass door and prayed Sabrina, the gourmet baker wasting her time as Kate’s assistant, had made some kind of yummy breakfast bread. Kate had not bought Toaster Strudel for weeks, and she was starving.
Grady woke up in his bed alone. His body still humming and the smell of her still wafting out of his bathroom. She had showered and gone. Off to work. He texted her: Go away with me this weekend. A few seconds later she responded: Who is this? Grady laughed, rolled out of bed and called to remind her exactly who he was. By the time he hung up they had plans to drive up north and look at the fall colors. Grady called ahead and reserved a bed and breakfast. They could be alone and away from the madness that was growing every second as Election Day approached. Grady agreed to pick her up after work.
They succeeded in getting away. No one at Big Bear Lake cared who Grady was. They took pictures and walked hand in hand without a single glance. Kate even relaxed and Grady never wanted to leave. They found a little restaurant-bar for dinner, ate steak, and shared some obscene brownie skillet for dessert. Kate’s hair was wild around her face and they both wore jeans the entire weekend. It was normal, and God how they both needed some normal. Kate reminded him that escape was not real life, but all he cared about was having time with her. They finished their dinner just as the band was starting up.
“Dance with me?” Grady stood and extended his hand. Kate was surprised.
“Are you telling me you know the two-step too?”
“I am.” He urged her to take his hand again.
“How do you know that I know the two-step?” she asked.
“Oh come on. Cop’s daughter, beer from a bottle drinker, someone taught you the two-step along the way. Neil and Ethan don’t exactly look like the ballroom types.”
Kate took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. “Well, you are in luck because I happen to be a pretty fierce two-stepper.”
“I knew it.”
They found a place among the spinning couples.
“Let me lead, Galloway,” Grady said, as he pulled Kate around another couple.
Kate tried to concentrate, but she started to laugh. “Who taught you your moves, cowboy?”
“That would be my Nana. Right before junior assembly,” Grady said, turning Kate under his arm. “She told me that my ballroom was weak and she was going to teach me a real man’s dance.”
“Just like that?” Kate asked. The song ended and everyone clapped.
“Yup, Nana was a straight shooter.”
Kate laughed and as they took their seats, she asked, “Do you get all your quirky sayings from her?”
Grady raised an eyebrow. “Quirky?”
“Yes, like straight-shooter, no one says that anymore. It’s similar to the hairy eyeball comment you made last week and shenanigans the week before that.”
“Wow, I had no idea I was so . . . odd.”
“It’s not odd, you’re just, well, you’re you.” She kissed him. “Now, don’t be such a Nervous Nancy and—”
“Nelly,” Grady said, putting some money on the table and grabbing her around the waist. He wanted her alone.
“Nelly, who’s Nelly?” Kate asked as Grady moved them toward the swinging saloon doors.
“Nelly, it’s Nervous Nelly, not Nancy. Nancy’s not nervous.” He was at her ear, behind her, by the time they stepped out into the cool night air.
“Well, Nancy would work, they’re both ‘N’ names, and so it would work.”
“Nope.” He moved along her jaw line and turned Kate to face him. “Has to be Nelly. That’s the phrase. This is coming from the corny Nana phrases expert.”
“Oh well, in that case, Nelly it is.” Kate smiled and the wind brushed her hair into her face. She laughed and he knew she was his person. His out-of-the-spotlight, winter months person. He kissed her and the last piece fell into place.
Chapter Thirty-Five
While Grady and Kate were finishing breakfast and packing for the drive back into LA, Mark was pulling what was left of his hair out. It was Sunday, but Stanley had called at seven. He and the senator wanted to meet and discuss any Hail Mary strategy he might have. Things were too close going into Election Day. They’d increased the senator’s likability among younger voters, but he was only 2 points in front of Jeff Driggs. It had been a tough project, but Mark felt good about the work they had done. Sure the hooker thing had made things a little shaky, but the numbers were solid, close, but solid. Mark took a sip of his Starbucks. He didn’t have anything left to give these guys and he had a feeling that’s not what they wanted to hear. They would arrive any minute, entourage intact, expecting he would have answers. He scratched the back of his head, closed his tired eyes, and waited. Ten minutes later the doors of Mark’s office swung open. Show time.
“Senator,” he said, standing and extending his hand. “Stanley.”
All three men shook and took a seat at the all-too-familiar conference room table.
“Thanks for coming in on a Sunday, Mark,” Senator Malendar said, taking his coffee out of the carrier on the table.
“Not a problem. What’s up?”
Stanley put a piece of paper in front of him.
“This is what’s up. It’s still too narrow a lead, margin of error. It’s tight, and we both feel like we need one last push.” Mark had been in this job too long, he could actually predict the future, he thought.
“Okay. What kind of push did you have in mind? We put together that spot about Drigg’s alleged affair and you didn’t want to run it. We agreed to run clean and even in the eleventh hour, it seems we’ve stayed that line. Are you thinking of pushing back after the hooker thing? Do you want to run that?”
“No,” Senator Malendar said, standing up and walking to the window. “I’m a sitting senator, for Christ sake. I’m not some amateur and I don’t plan on acting like one now. What that little shit did to Grady, quite frankly, shocked even me.”
“Sir, the college thing and the hooker were both bogus and the voters know that now. It may still be hurting you a little with on-the-fence conservatives, perception and all, but I think considering everything, things are looking good. Stanley, what exactly is it that you’re looking for me to bring to the table at this point? The election is in three days.” Mark rubbed his eyes.
Stanley put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Listen, I appreciate—the senator and his family appreciate everything Bracknell has contributed, it’s been outstanding work. I just want to make sure we’ve looked under every stone. Turned them all over. If we can’t go negative—” the senator shot Stanley a warning, “—won’t, we won’t go negative, then maybe we look at playing up something new.” He looked to Mark.
“Well, we have the photos from last weekend. Grady worked on a house for Habitat for Humanity. We haven’t used any of that footage. We could probably put something together.”
“Yeah, okay, that was a great feel-good project. Maybe playing that up is that little extra we need,” Stanley said.
“Let me see if I can get ahold of Dillon in research. He can get us that footage, names and any quotes.”
Mark dialed Dillon and started telling him what they were looking for.
“What? What about The Roads Foundation? No, I’m talking about last weekend when he was working with Habitat for Humanity. I need the names and some images if we are going to put a spot together.” Mark listened, and his eyes widened as the senator and Stanley looked on. “Yeah, hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker.” He held the receiver in his hand. “You are both going to want to hear this.” Mark hit the button on the phone console.
“You there, Dillon?”
“Yes,” a voice crackled over the speaker.
“I’
m here with Senator Malendar and Stanley. Could you please repeat the question you just asked me?”
“Good morning, sirs. I’m sorry for the confusion, I just thought when you were asking about Mr. Malendar that you wanted more information on his Roads Foundation connection.”
Stanley held the back of the soft leather chair, looking like he was bracing for bad news. None of them needed bad news at this point.
“And what connection is that, Dillon?” Mark asked.
“I’m sorry. I gave the report to Kate. Maybe she’s the person to discuss this with. She asked that I delete the report, said it wasn’t relevant.”
Both Stanley and the senator were anxious now.
“What did the report say? Spill it, Dillon,” Mark said. He was tired.
“Um, well I had to do some digging. There was a flag on Mr. Malendar’s tax returns. It was brilliantly disguised, but my guys are good, so . . . ”
“Dillon!” Mark barked.
“Right, sorry. Mr. Malendar is The Roads Foundation. I mean he and his three friends, but he’s the money. On the surface it looks like he’s funneling money to a trust, but that trust is then accessed through three separate accounts for The Roads Foundation projects.”
The room was silent as all three men looked at each other. Stanley leaned into the speaker in the center of the table.
“Let me get this straight. You’re telling us that Grady Malendar is the funding, the mind behind one of the largest philanthropic organizations in California, possibly the country?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying, sir. But, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anyone to know. I mean he’s been doing this since he was eighteen.”
“Eighteen?” The senator asked, shocked. “That’s impossible. He’s my son. I would know if he was running a foundation, or funding, whatever. This makes no sense.”
“Dillon, thanks. Do you have access to the report you sent Kate?” Mark asked.
“Is Kate there? Can you get it from her?” Dillon’s voice grew shaky.
