Yours in Scandal

by Layne, Lauren

  She’d need to watch her step.

  “So,” he said, his tone casual, “what inspired the nighttime festivities? Hot date?”

  “No, that’s tonight,” she said distractedly, checking an email that had just come up on her computer screen.

  “You have a date tonight?” The sharpness in his tone got her attention, and she glanced across the desk to find him looking stormy.

  “My friend set me up with a colleague. Is that a problem?”

  His jaw tensed. “Of course not. For some reason, I didn’t realize you were on the dating market.”

  A telling statement that gave her a little thrill, as did the slightly competitive light in his eyes.

  And what if you’d known I had been on the dating market? Then what?

  She didn’t ask it. Obviously. She wasn’t for him, and he wasn’t for her. Not now, not ever.

  Adeline gave an impartial smile. “Honestly, I didn’t realize I was on the market, either, but you’d understand if you knew my friend Jane. She’s sort of a force of nature when she latches on to an idea, and she apparently thinks this guy is my soul mate.” Sighing with dread at the upcoming date, Adeline dug her fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp lightly. “God, I would kill for an egg-and-cheese sandwich. With bacon. Doesn’t bacon sound good?”

  He pointed a finger at her water bottle. “Drink that.”

  “Yes, sir.” She did as instructed, glaring at him as she took three big gulps, as though this were his fault. “I bet you’re never hungover.”

  “It’s been a while,” he admitted, after a slight pause.

  She only managed a grunt in response.

  “Did you at least have fun?” he asked.

  Adeline smiled in spite of the headache, remembering how free and happy she’d felt dancing the night away with her two best friends. “I did.”

  “Well then.” He shrugged. “Sometimes that’s all that matters.”

  Her smile turned grim. “Would you still say that to someone if they’d been out on the dance floor at three a.m. on a Wednesday night?”

  He hesitated again, only for the briefest of moments, but it was there. “I’ll admit that those of us in the public spotlight do tend to live by slightly different standards.”

  Didn’t she know it. Damn it, Addie, I understand you don’t care about embarrassing yourself, but it’s past time you started caring that your childish antics embarrass me.

  “Well,” she said, crossing her legs and pivoting her chair more fully toward him. “If you ever want to let me set you up with my friend . . .”

  She didn’t tell him that Rosalie had stayed out just as late as Adeline last night, though her dancing had been decidedly more restrained, due more to a lack of rhythm than anything else. Rosalie was an all-star in all things except dancing, but Adeline was reasonably sure that twerking wasn’t on Robert Davenport’s list of “must haves” in a wife.

  He stared at her with an unreadable expression. “I’ll think on it. Where are you going on your date?”

  “Why?” she asked warily.

  He leaned back in his chair and stayed silent.

  Her head was hurting just enough for her to acquiesce. “I can’t remember the name of the restaurant off the top of my head, and no, I’m not going to look it up, but it’s a little Italian place in the East Village.”

  “The East Village?” he said, frowning.

  “I can draw you a map, if you’d like.”

  He ignored the sarcasm. “If you want good Italian, you should go to this little hole in the wall over—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “No, thank you. The place my date picked gets great reviews, and it’s close to my apartment, so win-win.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do you think that’s why he picked it? In hopes of going back to your apartment after dinner?”

  Adeline let out a surprised laugh. “Mr. Mayor.”

  He looked properly chagrined. “I apologize. I overstepped. Can I claim concerned friend?”

  She tried to hide her smile, refusing to be charmed, and failed. “Sure. Forgiven. And for what it’s worth, I think he picked it because it’s near the jazz club he’s taking me to.”

  “You like jazz?”

  She shrugged. “Guess I’ll find out.”

  “What sort of music do you usually like?”

  “Everything. Miley Cyrus. Bruce Springsteen. ABBA. I got into country music the past couple years and still listen to that sometimes. If I had to pick what I listen to most, I’m pretty obsessed with Michael Jackson.”

  He grinned. “Fun fact: I know the ‘Thriller’ dance.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “That wasn’t in Citizen magazine.”

  “A man’s got to have some secrets from the public, Ms. Blake.”

  Adeline had the sudden urge to know them all—to know this man beyond the magazine covers and the interviews. She took another sip of water. “So, at what point do you tell me why you’re at my office so early?”

  “Ah. Right. I came to talk about the party.”

  “Really. Remind me to tell you about this newfangled concept called email one of these days. It’s pretty handy once you get the hang of it.”

  He ignored her. “I’d like you to come to the party.”

  “Well, yeah.” She placed the lid back on her water bottle. “That’s sort of in the job description.”

  “I don’t mean behind the scenes. I mean as a guest. No hiding out in the kitchens wearing an ugly uniform.”

  “What?” Her fuzzy thoughts scrambled even further. “I can’t. No. Why would I do that? Also, why would you assume the uniform would be ugly?”

  She didn’t think it was her imagination that his gaze dropped to her ever-present blazer just for a second, as though saying, that’s why.

  “If it makes you feel better, I asked the same of Jada,” he said. “Who better to know how a party is going than someone at the party?”

  “I will be at the party. Just as an employee.”

  He was already shaking his head. “I want you there experiencing it as a guest. You’ll get a better sense if they hate the caviar or the band if you’re mingling.”

  “But—”

  “I’m afraid I insist, Ms. Blake.”

  She looked up in surprise as he stood. “You’re leaving?”

  The mayor’s smile was wide and cocky. “Is that disappointment I hear in your voice?”

  “Hardly. I’m just trying to figure out how to deal with a man who’s used to getting his way.”

  He rebuttoned his suit jacket and adjusted his tie, seeming to switch between man and mayor right before her eyes. “Have a pleasant day, Ms. Blake, and enjoy your date this evening.”

  “I will,” she said, hearing the flatness of her tone, chagrined to realize that he was exactly right. There was disappointment in her voice, when, if she were smart, she should be relieved.

  He pointed once more to the water bottle on her desk. “Drink that.”

  “You could have bossed me around via email, you know!” she called after his retreating back.

  He was gone.

  She picked up the water again and sipped it.

  What had that been about? She didn’t buy for one second that it had just been about his insistence she attend the party as a guest. Nor did she entirely buy that his motives for asking were as pure as he’d claimed. She’d planned plenty of events, and this marked the first time a client had made a point of insisting she mingle with guests rather than hide behind the scenes.

  Then again, the mayor was hardly typical in his approach to party planning, and she’d believed him when he’d said he’d asked the same of his previous event planner.

  But the request absolutely had not necessitated an in-person drop-by.

  The prospect that he’d stopped by today simply because he wanted to see her both thrilled and terrified her.

  Almost as much as it terrified her how much she’d wanted to see him.

  Annoyed at t
he thought, she crumpled the plastic water bottle and shoved it with more force than necessary into the recycling bin. She forced her attention back to work and managed to clear a bunch of emails out of her in-box before the second interruption of her morning.

  Cordelia entered her office with a paper bag. “Good morning! Your breakfast delivery just got here.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Adeline said, pushing some files out of the way to make room to eat at her desk. “You read my mind.”

  Her assistant blinked. “I didn’t order it. I thought you did.”

  Adeline shook her head, disappointed. “They must have delivered to the wrong address.”

  “Nope, it has your name on it,” Cordelia said, reading the receipt stapled to the bag. “Bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich, extra bacon, and a bottled water.”

  Adeline felt a little breathless. She’d never realized until now that a greasy breakfast sandwich could be . . . romantic.

  “Oh. Yeah, that is mine after all.”

  “So you did order it?” Cordelia said, sounding understandably confused as she handed over the bag.

  “No,” Adeline said with a little smile. “But I know who did.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Saturday, October 24

  At six o’clock the night of the mayor’s party, Adeline tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and finally, finally, allowed herself to take a deep breath and stop moving for the first time all day.

  Taking a look around the first floor of Gracie Mansion, she couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over her face. Her back hurt, she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and she didn’t even want to see a mirror, but she was also thrilled that the effort had paid off.

  She only hoped the mayor would be as well. She’d know soon enough.

  Adeline winced as she glanced at her watch. She’d know really soon.

  She spotted Luciana in the corner of the ballroom, explaining something to the lead singer of the band, and headed that way. Usually Adeline managed events on her own, but for larger, more high-profile events, they sometimes doubled up. She was especially glad to have her junior event planner at this one, given the mayor’s request that she mingle as a guest. It would be easier to do so knowing Luciana was behind the scenes, managing the caterer and waitstaff.

  She didn’t hate the mayor’s suggestion of mingling with the guests. On a personal level, the thought of having to rub elbows with the political elite was her nightmare. But professionally, she could see the merit. It would be easier to gauge how the party was going if she was on the front lines.

  Still, it didn’t mean she was excited about the prospect of the strapless bra and constricting dress that awaited her when all she wanted was to blend into the background.

  Luciana smiled as Adeline approached. “Off to primp?”

  “Unfortunately,” Adeline muttered. “You all good here?”

  “Absolutely,” the petite brunette said with a confident nod. “I can’t get over how amazing everything looks. I’d have never thought emerald green for the accents and bright orange for the flowers, but the contrast is amazing. Also, how the heck did you get Jean-Martin to cater? I’ve heard he never agrees to private events, even for Jada.”

  “I promised the mayor would attend the soft opening of his new Tribeca bistro, and take a photo.”

  “The mayor was cool with that?” Luciana said, distractedly adjusting one of the flower arrangements on a rented cocktail table. “I thought he doesn’t usually trade in favors.”

  “He doesn’t exactly know yet,” Adeline said. “I figured I’d let him be dazzled by the food tonight, then spring it on him.”

  “Ask for forgiveness instead of permission,” Luciana said, nodding approvingly. “Ballsy.”

  “Or career suicide. We’ll find out. Okay, I have to go change. I’ll have my phone the whole time. I’m still thinking I could use a headset. I can wear my hair down, nobody would have to know . . .”

  “Absolutely not,” Luciana said. “The party’s not that big. I’ll find you if there’s anything I can’t handle. Plus, you deserve to have fun. You’ve been working your butt off on this event.”

  “I’ve just been doing my job.”

  “I know. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the fact that the Man of the Year personally invited you to his party.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  Although maybe it was like that. She didn’t exactly know how to define whatever was simmering between her and the mayor.

  “Is he still not here yet?” Luciana asked, looking around.

  “Trust me, we lucked out with him having that all-day fund-raiser in Long Island,” Adeline said, picking up her garment bag and tote from the corner of the room.

  But he would be back any minute, and Adeline was annoyed to realize she had butterflies. The type where you couldn’t quite figure out if they were from nerves or anticipation.

  She also couldn’t figure out if the anticipation was because she was eager to see what he’d think of the surprise she had planned for the party, or simply because it had been a few days since she’d seen him, and . . .

  She missed him?

  No, that couldn’t be right. She barely knew the guy.

  And yet . . . he took up way too many of her thoughts. Even more annoyingly, it had been nearly impossible to focus on her date last week because she’d kept picturing another man, realizing that fancy Italian and a jazz club with Jane’s coworker hadn’t come close to greasy pizza and listening to Michael Bublé in the mayor’s living room.

  With a last few instructions for Luciana, Adeline hurried back toward the mayor’s office, hoping she could catch Darlene before she headed out.

  No such luck. Instead, it was one of the interns, a fresh-faced blonde named Megan whom she’d gotten to know over the past week as she’d dropped off stuff for the party.

  “She left an hour ago,” Megan said. “But she told me you’d be coming by, possibly looking for a place to change?”

  “Yes,” Adeline said, relieved. “I could make do with the public restroom, but . . .”

  “Yuck, no,” Megan said, opening a drawer and rummaging around for keys. “It’s clean and all, but you can’t get black-tie ready in there. Besides”—she held up the key ring and gave it a little wiggle before lowering her voice—“I’ve always wanted to see the mayor’s living quarters.”

  “His—What? No. I can’t change there. Honestly, a closet would be fine.”

  “Darlene specifically said that I was to show you upstairs.”

  Adeline hesitated, mainly because the girl looked terrified that she’d get in trouble if Adeline balked at the instructions she’d been given. “Fine,” Adeline said reluctantly. “I’m sure the mayor has a guest room I can use.” She already knew that he did, but she wasn’t about to advertise that she’d already been in the mayor’s personal space.

  Adeline let Megan lead, noting the way the handful of security milling about didn’t look surprised to see them heading toward the mayor’s private quarters. Darlene had clearly briefed them to expect Adeline.

  The question was, had the mayor briefed Darlene? Or was she acting of her own accord, in female solidarity, just trusting that Robert wouldn’t mind?

  “I really appreciate this,” Adeline said, unapologetically fishing for information from the intern. “Tell Darlene thanks for me.”

  “Sure,” Megan said with a smile as she unlocked the door at the top of the stairs. “But actually, it’s Kenny you should thank. Actually . . . Kenny’s wife. She apparently learned you’d be at the party as a guest and said that you’d need a place to change.”

  “Oh,” Adeline said, feeling deflated at the information. “That was thoughtful of her. And Kenny.”

  “Yup! You need anything before I head out?” Megan stuck her head through the door, looking around curiously. “They didn’t tell me where specifically you should change, but I’m sure there’s a powder room.”

  “I’ll find
it. And just to make sure the mayor’s not in for an unpleasant surprise . . .”

  “Kenny said he’d let him know that you’d be up here. Just . . . you know. Don’t be, like, naked in his living room.” Megan winked. “Have fun tonight!” she chirped, before closing the door, leaving Adeline alone. At least she was pretty sure she was alone.

  “Hello?” she called. “Mr. Mayor?” She took a few steps toward what he’d gestured to as the master bedroom during the tour. “Mr. Mayor?” Adeline slowly pushed open the door and called again.

  Nothing.

  Confident she was alone, she started toward the powder room, then, remembering how small it was, bit her lip and eyed one of the other open doors. She found a moderately sized guest room with an attached bathroom and a full-length mirror, much better suited for party prep. It had probably been used for past mayors’ family members, but since this mayor was single and childless, it probably served as a rarely, if ever, used guest room.

  Adeline hesitated only a moment longer before stepping into the room and closing the door. With any luck, she’d be changed and freshened up before he even knew she was here.

  She groaned as she got the first close-up of herself. It was worse than she’d thought. Her usually tidy bun had turned into a flyaway mess, and she may as well have not even bothered with makeup that morning, because it had long since vanished.

  Adeline pulled her hair straightener and makeup bag out of the tote. A fancy updo was out of the question, but she could at least get rid of the worst of the frizz.

  Thirty minutes later, she had a respectable smoky eye and light pink lipstick, and her hair was long and straight around her shoulders.

  Wrinkling her nose, she pulled the necessary strapless bra out of her tote, and making sure the door was locked, she did a quick lingerie swap and unzipped the garment bag.

  She had been planning to wear a conservative black sheath dress that was stylish but demanded no second looks. But when she’d opened her closet door, she’d found herself reaching for a different dress entirely. Still black, still conservative enough to be appropriate for the occasion, but with a bit more skin and personality than Adeline usually allowed herself.