“Partially back,” Kenny clarified, dropping into a chair, the one opposite Robert’s this time. “I won’t officially be back until Monday, but in the meantime, entertain me. Darlene says Martin has been like a dog with a bone?”
“She’d be correct.”
“What’s the bone?” Kenny asked curiously.
Robert hesitated. He knew Kenny was better at his job when he had all the facts, however ugly they may be. He also knew that Kenny hadn’t been able to stand Martin Tillman from day one. On more than one occasion, the usually affable Kenny had declared Martin “all that was wrong with the American political system.”
The feeling was mutual. Martin was old guard and fancied himself the authority on all things Davenport. He took it as a personal affront that Kenny wasn’t a “lifer,” and that he hadn’t personally known Robert Davenport Sr. To Martin, Kenny was an idealistic upstart with no respect for the elite legacy of the government.
Robert knew he needed both perspectives to bring in both sides of voters. He also knew that the Addie Brennan situation would only stoke a long-burning fire. He’d always made it a point to balance the perspectives of both men, but more often than not, when the two men disagreed, Robert’s instincts told him to go with Kenny’s perspective.
Kenny Lamb was, in most ways, an atypical chief of staff. Prior to coming on board to work with the mayor, Kenny’d had no government experience beyond his former career as a high school social studies teacher. He’d known how the government worked in theory, if not in practice, which had been exactly why Robert needed him.
There’d been plenty of smart, ambitious applicants angling for the chief of staff position, all clamoring to make a name for themselves. Kenny, looking for a career change to challenge himself, had merely wanted a chance to continue making a difference.
The happy-go-lucky thirtysomething hadn’t been the obvious choice, but he’d been the right one. As it had turned out, Kenny hadn’t just become indispensable to Robert on a professional level; the man had also become his closest friend. Kenny and his wife, Melinda, were a welcome respite from the whirlwind of public life, the people he’d always been able to count on to tell him when he’d gone off course, when he was losing sight of himself.
He knew it was Kenny who would tell him if his strategy with Adeline Blake was crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
“I hired a new event planner,” Robert said.
“I know,” Kenny said, thumbing through his phone.
“You do?”
Kenny locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, giving Robert his full attention.
“She wants to set me up with her friend,” Robert blurted out, relieved that after stewing endlessly on the topic, he had someone to confide in.
Kenny was silent for a long moment. “You do realize I’m your chief of staff, correct? I’ve been away for weeks, and you’re telling me that the most vital information right now is that you hired a new party planner, and that she’s trying to set you up?”
Robert hesitated. It was the opening he needed to tell his friend the truth. He jerked his chin at the door. “Can you close that?”
Kenny did so, then sat again, looking calm and unruffled even though he knew Robert well enough to know when potential trouble was brewing. It was why Robert cherished his chief of staff so damn much. The guy was always the calm in the center of any storm.
“What’s up?” Kenny nudged.
“The event planner—how’d you know I hired one?”
Kenny shrugged. “Darlene mentioned it offhand. Plus, I knew Jada was close to popping, and that you’d want to throw a party before you left office.”
Robert shifted in his chair. “You know who she is?”
“Heard her name. Forgot her name.” Kenny stretched out his legs, and slouched down in his chair, eyes closing as though settling in for a quick nap. “You just go ahead and wake me up when you’re ready to spit out whatever’s got you frowning.”
“Her name is Adeline Blake,” Robert said.
“Okay.”
“Her real name is Addie Brennan.”
Kenny’s eyes popped open. “Brennan, as in . . . Governor Brennan?”
“His daughter.”
Kenny took his time sitting up straight, but his gaze had turned sharp and aware. “That daughter?”
“That daughter.”
“I thought she disappeared.”
“She did. She’s back.”
Kenny chomped his gum. “Where’s she been?”
“That’s what I’m supposed to be figuring out.”
“What do you mean that’s what you’re supposed to be figuring out?”
Robert hesitated, and Kenny picked up on it immediately.
“Martin’s got a plan,” Kenny said flatly.
“Always,” Robert said with a slight smile.
The sharpness in his chief of staff’s gaze didn’t waver as he stared Robert down and waited for the explanation.
“Martin thinks the daughter’s the best chance we’ve got on getting any dirt on the governor.”
“If there’s dirt.”
Robert gave him a look. “C’mon. I know you’re even more inclined than me to believe the best in people, but you can’t think the rumors are just rumors.”
Kenny shrugged. “They are until there’s proof.”
“Well . . .”
Kenny narrowed his eyes. “You’ve already got something?”
Robert hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“What is it?” Kenny asked, on high alert.
“You won’t tell Martin?”
“I can’t stand Martin. I wouldn’t tell him if a bird pooped on his shoulder.” Kenny’s expression turned solemn. “And I won’t say anything if it would hurt another person.”
Robert ran his hands through his hair. “I know.” And he did know. Kenny was as principled as they came, not just in terms of political maneuverings but as a person. Still, he hesitated, feeling strangely as though he was betraying Adeline by saying it aloud.
Remember, the only reason you even know Adeline is for this very reason.
“She mentioned her mother,” Robert said, lifting his head.
Kenny blinked. “So? We all have one.”
“I know, but . . .” Robert stared down at his thumbs, a quirky habit he’d gotten from his dad. His father had always very carefully lined up his thumbs alongside each other and studied them while gathering his thoughts. Finally, Robert looked up. “Addie Brennan didn’t,” he said quietly. “Or at least she wasn’t raised by hers. The governor has always gone on record saying he was a widower, and that Addie’s mother died in childbirth. If that story’s true,” he continued, “she wouldn’t have any memories of her mother, and yet Adeline Blake most definitely does. Fresh memories of a woman who was a waitress and instilled in her a love of event planning. A woman who passed away recently.”
Kenny blew out a breath and sat back in the chair. “Could be a woman she thought of as a surrogate mother?”
“Could be,” Robert said. But his gut didn’t think so. Adeline’s grief had been unmistakable when she’d spoken of her mother, but her tone had also been matter-of-fact. He got the feeling that if this woman hadn’t been her biological mother, she’d have said so.
“Shit,” Kenny muttered. “It could also explain where the hell she’s been. How she went from being front-page news during her father’s election to disappearing completely. You think maybe her mother saw the scandals and got in touch?”
“That was my thought,” Robert said tiredly. “Wouldn’t be the first time an elected official’s bought the silence of a ‘less than suitable’ woman.”
“Must have been a hell of an offer for the woman to give up her kid, though.”
“Yeah. And you’ve got to wonder if Brennan had his regrets about the deal when Addie nearly cost him the election. He could have lost his temper, spilled the truth . . .”
Kenny was silent for a long minute. �
�What’s your plan?”
Robert shifted in his chair. “Stay the course. See if she mentions anything else.”
Kenny’s brown eyes flickered in disappointment.
“If she mentions something,” Robert repeated. “I’m not going to dig.”
“You going to tell her you know she’s the governor’s daughter?”
Robert’s jaw tensed. “No.”
“Come on, man.”
“If she wants me to know, she’ll tell me,” Robert said. He said it not just to assuage his guilt but because he wanted it to be true. He barely knew the woman, and yet he had the strangest craving for her to trust him.
Kenny said nothing.
“What?” Robert snapped irritably.
“I know what Addie Blake looks like. I may be married, but I’m not blind.”
Robert ground his teeth. “She doesn’t look like that anymore.”
“No? Better with age?”
Robert hesitated. “Different.”
Kenny tilted his head back and laughed. “Oh my God. You’ve got a thing for her.”
“I do not. I don’t even . . . I don’t,” he insisted with a glare at the still-laughing Kenny. “It’s as Martin put it: two birds, one stone. I get an event planner and the chance to get a scoop on Brennan.”
“Yeah? And your event planner is going to just . . . open up? Tell you all of Daddy’s secrets over crab cakes and chard?”
“No,” Robert admitted. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I bungled it.”
“Nah,” Kenny said with a wave. “Bungle one of Martin’s Machiavellian, exploit-whomever-whenever schemes? Impossible.”
Chagrined, Robert shut his eyes and leaned his head back. “I tried to get her to talk about her past with exactly zero couth. All the walls went up. It’s been a week and a half, and all I’ve gotten from her are daily email updates that read with as much personality as the reports we get every quarter on the state of the city’s potholes.”
“You don’t like those? I always enjoy the suspense of not knowing which borough’s going to win the award for the most,” Kenny mused.
“What suspense? It’s Queens,” Robert muttered. “It’s always Queens. The point is, she’s avoiding me after I pushed too hard too fast.”
“Shocking that she didn’t want to let a practical stranger into her innermost thoughts. Though, in your defense, it’s been a while since you’ve been on a proper date. To say that you’re out of practice talking to women is a complete understatement.”
Robert’s eyes flew open. “I talk to women all the time.”
“You talk to female voters all the time. There’s a huge difference.”
Robert glared at his friend. “Are you trying to tell me I don’t have any moves?”
Kenny nodded. “Absolutely, man. You have zero moves.”
“I don’t need moves. I need an event planner.”
“So find another event planner. One that has no connection to the governor, and one who doesn’t make your dick twitch.”
I want this one. And not for the reasons he should.
“Here’s a question,” Robert said slowly. “You don’t want me to work with her because she’s her father’s daughter, but how is that any better than not giving her my business because of who her father is?”
Kenny hesitated. “Obnoxiously, I can see your point. If she’s good at a job, she deserves a chance to do that job, regardless of her name. But doesn’t she also deserve to know that you know who she really is?”
“That’ll go over well. ‘Hey, Adeline, just a quick heads-up: I know that prior to being a brunette event planner, you were a blonde who partied like it was your job, had nude photos plastered all over the internet, and did everything possible to destroy your dad’s political career.’”
“Two sides to every story,” Kenny pointed out. “Bet hers is a good one.”
“Yeah. I just need to get her to tell me it.”
“Oh, for sure,” Kenny said with a nod. “I’m sure she’s been practically dying for the right time to tell the mayor of New York City, her new celebrity client, all about her past.”
Robert held his breath for a three-count and pressed his tongue hard against his bottom teeth. His chief of staff wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know, but it was annoying all the same. “I think I liked you better on vacation.”
“This is why you pay me the big bucks. No, wait.” Kenny snapped. “I make beans, because I’m a public servant to a public servant.”
“You know full well I’ve offered a dozen times to hire you on as a consultant to my company and give the city-funded chief of staff title to someone else.”
“Nope, I like being official. Almost as much as I like being your moral compass.”
Robert rolled his eyes, but before he could tell Kenny where to shove his moral compass, there was a knock at the door. “Yeah,” he called.
Darlene popped her head in. “Pardon the interruption, but Ms. Blake is here. She was hoping to take a look at the space for the party. Should I have one of the interns show her around?”
Kenny’s eyebrows went up. “Well, well. Speak of the devil.”
“Shut up, Kenny. And sure, Darlene. Get Ms. Blake whatever she needs.”
Kenny stuck his tongue in his cheek as though physically refraining from comment. Then he turned toward Robert’s assistant. “Actually, Darlene, show Ms. Blake in. I’d be happy to show her around.”
Darlene was so accustomed to Kenny speaking on behalf of the mayor that she didn’t even hesitate to do Kenny’s bidding before Robert could stop the introduction.
A moment later, Adeline stepped through the doorway dressed in another of those damn blazers, a white blouse, and slacks. Perfectly respectable, and yet Robert couldn’t shake the sense that they were all wrong for her.
Her blue eyes met his for only a moment, unreadable, before she looked over at Kenny, who was on his feet, a warm smile on his face. “Ms. Blake, I presume?”
She delivered a smooth smile alongside her handshake. “Yes. And you’re Mr. Lamb.”
“My fame precedes me, I see.”
“Congratulations on your wedding. You were recently married, right? I did some research on all the key players,” she said by way of explanation.
“Very recently married,” Robert cut in. “In fact, I’m quite confident your bride would want you home for cocktail hour right about now, am I right, Kenny? For your staycation?”
“Oh, there’s a pop-up flower stand I saw just around the corner,” Adeline told Kenny. “I stopped to gawk at the gorgeous autumn bouquets. If your wife’s at all a fall kind of gal, you’ll earn major points if you pick one up on your way home.”
“Are you kidding? The woman has more scarves and boots than I do underwear.” He paused. “Too much info too soon?”
“Not at all,” Adeline said with a bright smile. “I’m always happy when I can get on the fast track of friendship.”
Since when? Robert had been busting his ass trying to get on the fast track of anything with her and had never gotten a smile half that bright.
“Bye, Kenny,” Robert said pointedly.
Kenny didn’t even look his way, but he took the hint, moving to the door even as he continued to chat up Adeline about autumnal flowers, of all things.
Finally, his chief of staff made it to the doorway, with the intent, Robert assumed, of telling Darlene to round up one of the interns after all.
Instead, Kenny shot them both a wide smile. “Enjoy Gracie Mansion, Ms. Blake. You won’t find a better tour guide than the mayor himself.”
Chapter Nine
Tuesday, October 13
“Kenny—”
His chief of staff was already out the door, closing it so that Robert couldn’t summon Darlene without being blatantly rude.
Adeline gave Robert a knowing look. “You don’t have to show me around. I should have called first, but I was in the neighborhood and hoped that your assistant could let me have
a quick peek at the space without bugging you.”
“I’ll bet you did,” he said, sitting back on his desk and crossing his arms over his chest.
Her eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you’ve been avoiding me ever since our lunch.”
“Or”—she snapped her fingers, as though just coming up with an alternative option—“I got all the information I needed from you in order to do my job at that lunch, and another face-to-face meeting hardly seemed necessary.”
“That could be it,” he granted, continuing to play the game. “Or I may have stomped where I had no business in our last conversation, and you’ve made me pay the price with the cold shoulder.”
“See, now there you go again,” she said softly. “The phrase cold shoulder is generally reserved for personal interactions. There’s no such thing as a cold shoulder in a business relationship. Not if both parties are being professional. I’ve been in contact the proper amount to do my job.”
His lips twitched in reluctant amusement. “Did you just call me unprofessional?”
“Did I?” She pretended to study her manicure, all innocence.
He laughed, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she’d be a natural at politics, but he bit it back when he realized it was exactly the type of comment that would continue to push Adeline Blake further and further out of reach.
“At any rate, I owe you an apology,” he said. “In truth, it’s been a while since I’ve shared a meal with someone who wasn’t actively trying to get something from me. Or from whom I didn’t need something. Apparently I’m rusty on the art of conversation for conversation’s sake.”
“Apology accepted. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to see where—”
“Just one more thing,” he said, reaching down to open his desk drawer. “I’ve actually got something I’ve been meaning to give you.”
“Mr. Mayor, I really don’t think—” She broke off when she saw what he was holding out to her, her clear irritation with him dissolving into amusement as she smiled. “A bottle of Excedrin?”
“I believe I’ve broken my assurances I’d be a no-pill kind of client.” He rounded the desk and unceremoniously dropped the bottle into the open tote bag hooked over her shoulder. “Consider it an emergency stash. Now, about that tour.”
Yours in Scandal Page 7
