Yours in Scandal

by Layne, Lauren

  “The younger generation in particular is loving your strategy to play completely clean,” one of the interns blurted out.

  Robert thought about the flash drive sitting locked in his safe. He wished he could say it was the easiest decision of his life, opting not to use the content on it. Not because he’d wanted to beat the man in a stupid election, but because he’d wanted to make the man pay for the way he’d treated his daughter. And if the governor came after Addie in any way, Robert wouldn’t hesitate to send the contents directly to every news outlet in the country.

  But for now, it was a last resort. After firing Martin Tillman for his underhanded tactics, Robert didn’t want to be a hypocrite. He also couldn’t be sure that, for all Addie’s insistence that she wanted him to use the intel, he could do so without hurting her. He couldn’t highlight George Brennan’s sins without bringing his daughter into the spotlight, and Robert wouldn’t do that when he knew Addie needed to put her father behind her.

  Robert had also been thinking a lot about his father lately. Without Martin there to chant in his ear about the Davenport legacy every other meeting, Robert had been starting to remember things differently—more clearly.

  He’d remembered his father as a respected man of influence, yes, but he also remembered him as a dad. A husband. He’d remembered that his dad had never cared if Robert and his friends had been noisy when he’d been on the phone, or gotten mad if streaks from Robert’s afternoon brownie got on his white shirt when Robert had hugged him after work.

  When Robert had come home from baseball practice bragging about his triple, or proudly shown off his first-place spelling bee certificate, his dad had always said, “High five! Did you have fun?”

  The memory was both bittersweet and jarring. Did you have fun? How many times in Robert’s adult life had he asked himself that? Ever?

  And lately, Robert had been wondering something else, something even more treacherous to his future: In his quest to carry on his father’s legacy, had he ever really stopped to think if his father would even want this for him? Robert Sr. would have been proud. He was sure of that. But he was beginning to suspect that his father might have been a little disappointed as well.

  Disappointed that his only son had chosen a perfect image over an imperfect life.

  Disappointed that his only son was making decisions based on a man long dead, instead of a man alive. Most disappointed, perhaps, that Robert wasn’t living for himself.

  That he wasn’t really living at all.

  He’d spent nearly every waking minute of the past two weeks, including in meetings like this one, trying to define what he wanted out of his life.

  But no matter how many times he pictured his perfect life, he realized it wasn’t perfect at all. It was wonderfully imperfect. Messy. Surprising. Exhilarating.

  Perhaps most importantly, he’d realized that it was never about what he wanted.

  It was about whom.

  He sat up straight and cleared his throat, fixing his attention on Kenny and Rosalie. “Set up the press conference. But I want to change up a few things . . .”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Friday, December 11

  Addie shook her head as she tightened the blue ribbon wrapped around the vase holding a bouquet of red and white tulips. She hissed in irritation when she realized her hands were a little shaky.

  She gave them a subtle shake, glancing around the room to make sure nobody noticed the event planner was downright jittery.

  Would she never learn?

  Nearly three months ago, she’d stepped into the mayor of New York’s web because of a party. Today, she was doing the exact same thing.

  Well, not the exact same thing. Back then, it had been curiosity that had her showing up at his office. Today, there was a little bit of curiosity, a little bit of doing Rosalie a last-minute favor as a friend . . .

  And a lot of something else.

  Today’s event was smaller than the black-tie event at Gracie Mansion back in October. Which, in theory, should have made it easier. She’d been responsible only for basic decorations and coordinating a caterer.

  A job, quite frankly, she could have—and should have—off-loaded to one of the junior event planners. But she’d wanted to be here. Not for the event itself, which she could do in her sleep. But because the reason for today’s event was important to Robert.

  As of this evening, he would officially be announcing his candidacy for governor. And as painful as she knew it would be, a final nail in the coffin of their would-never-be relationship, she wanted to share in it, even from a distance.

  And distance was definitely what she’d been after. Rosalie had even guaranteed she wouldn’t have to face him if she didn’t want to, that she could stay in the kitchen and watch the mayor’s speech on TV.

  But Addie had already decided she needed to see him in person, even if it was just her blending in with the crowd. She just wanted to know that he was okay, that he wasn’t as gaunt as he’d seemed on TV these past couple of weeks, that the shadows under his eyes had been her imagination or bad lighting.

  Addie heard a crackle at the side of her head and lifted her hand to adjust the earpiece.

  “Addie?” Rosalie’s voice said in her ear.

  “Yup, here!”

  “How are we looking?”

  “All good on my end. The tables are set, the champagne is chilling, the spotlights have been tested and retested to make sure they’ll highlight Rob—the mayor—without blinding him, and the pizza is scheduled to be delivered within the last five minutes of his speech. So long as he doesn’t run over, it should be hot.”

  “You’re sure on the pizza?” Rosalie asked. “I trust you, but this is a political campaign, not a first grader’s Batman birthday party.”

  Addie smiled a private smile. “I’m sure.” Italian sausage and mushrooms.

  “All right. I guess you know your parties,” Rosalie muttered.

  She did. She also knew Robert.

  Addie couldn’t help it. Her eyes scanned the slowly growing crowd, knowing he would still be in the backstage of the hotel’s conference area prepping his speech, but her heart craving a glimpse of him all the same. As expected, there were plenty of men in suits, but none of them six foot two with warm hazel eyes and a smile that could turn her inside out.

  “Okay, looks like we are a go on all fronts,” Rosalie said. “Oh my God, do I sound like a control freak? I know this isn’t usually the campaign manager’s job to coordinate like this, but it’s my first event, and—”

  “You’re doing fine,” Addie said. “It’s like I told you. You were born for this job.”

  She’d been surprised when Rosalie had told her about Robert’s job offer, but pleased. He couldn’t ask for a better campaign manager than über-efficient, innovative Rosalie, and Addie had reassured Rosalie that she knew Robert to be a fair and kind boss.

  The lights began to dim, save for the ones onstage, and Addie was surprised to realize how much the crowd had grown since she’d last paid attention.

  They’d forgone chairs, since Rosalie had indicated the speech would be short and sweet, and the standing format would allow the event to transition almost immediately to a celebratory cocktail vibe.

  Better for Addie. Much easier to blend into the crowd during his speech, then disappear to the back during the party.

  She wondered if Robert knew she was at the event. Knowing how control-freak he could be about these things, he must know, and he must have okayed Rosalie hiring her.

  But he hadn’t gotten in touch. Not even a simple well-this-is-awkward text.

  It stung more than it should. She’d been the one to walk out, but still, it had been torture not hearing a single word from him, not knowing what he was thinking or what he’d decided to do with the intel on her father.

  Not knowing if he was seeing anyone else . . .

  The painful thought faded as Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” began playing
over the speakers, the way most of the mayor’s events had begun in a charming, if slightly teasing, way.

  She’d thought she was prepared, but the second he stepped onstage, Addie felt like she couldn’t breathe.

  She’d missed him. She’d missed him so much.

  Oblivious to her turmoil, clueless to her presence, Robert strode across the stage, waving at the crowd with a wide, confident smile on his face, nodding in acknowledgment of the cheers.

  “Thank you,” he said, adjusting the microphone at the podium slightly, with the ease of someone who’d spent a lifetime speaking to the public. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank—Okay, settle down.”

  The crowd laughed, then quieted.

  “If I need to introduce myself, you’re probably in the wrong room, but for posterity’s sake, for the guy in the back with the video camera, I’m Robert Davenport, and for the past eight years, I’ve served as mayor of New York City.”

  The crowd cheered again, and he waited with a smile for it to fade out.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few months wondering what happens for me after January. After I turn over the reins of this city I love so much to the capable hands of Ned Olivo. After I walk out of Gracie Mansion for the last time, not as the mayor, but as a resident. I suspect everyone in this room, most everyone in this city, assumes I’m here today to announce what’s next—to announce my bid for the governor’s seat. And up until a few days ago, I actually thought that myself.”

  Wait, what?

  Addie blinked in shock, and the crowd began to murmur quietly in anticipation that a twist was coming.

  “It’s always been the plan,” Robert continued. “Mayor. Then governor. Maybe a brief stint as an Avenger, if Marvel ever calls me back.”

  The crowd laughed but was no less on edge, the media’s microphones leaning forward with even more urgency now, as though desperate to hear it first and break whatever news awaited.

  “I thought it’s what I wanted,” he said, “and it’s a job I still have great respect for. But it’s not a job I want any longer. Not at this time.”

  He stood silently a moment, his head bowing just briefly, hands braced on the podium. When he lifted it, his eyes were clear, his voice confident. “Many of you have heard rumors about my personal life in recent weeks. This surprised some of you, no doubt because some of you thought I didn’t have a personal life.”

  A few chuckles, but mostly the crowd stayed silent. Rapt. None more so than Addie, her hand over her pounding heart.

  “And the truth is, I didn’t,” he continued. “I’ve dedicated every last second of each day, every ounce of my being, to this job. To being the best mayor I can be. To serving this city the best way I know how. I’m proud to say that while I’ve certainly never pleased everyone, my tenure has been relatively free of controversy. This has been intentional on my part. Every decision I’ve made has been with the intention to do the right thing. The virtuous thing. I expect it’s why I escaped the recent rumors about me dating Governor Brennan’s daughter mostly unscathed. I was allowed the mistake because it was my first one. Most of you in the press have all declared it already behind me. Forgiven. A tiny blight on a perfect record.”

  Addie gasped as she registered that he was talking about her. In public. On camera. She barely noticed people were starting to look her way. And look again.

  A reporter turned and took her picture, which in turn caused a dozen more people to glance her way, but Robert continued, unaware of the scene he was causing.

  “But here’s what I’ve come to tell you today, ladies and gentlemen: I don’t care how that ‘mistake’ affects my political career, because I don’t believe it was a mistake. And I’ve realized I want something more than a perfect record.”

  Robert shifted then. Just the slightest turn to his right, but his eyes found hers immediately, and Addie realized he wasn’t oblivious at all. He’d known she was here the entire time, right down to the precise spot where she was standing.

  He held her gaze as he spoke. “I won’t be defending my relationship with Adeline Blake, because it needs no defending. I won’t be discussing how much I care about her, because that’s nobody’s business but mine and hers. What I can tell you is that, for the foreseeable future, I’ll be taking a step back from politics to focus on my personal life. I believe in voters. I believe in government. I believe I can do some real good in this world, and I intend to do exactly that.”

  Addie’s hand went to her throat as his gaze seemed to grow warmer the longer he looked at her, the crowd seeming to disappear.

  “But I also believe,” Robert continued, “that in order to be the best leader I can be, I need to be the best man I can be. And I can’t do that alone. I don’t want to do that alone. My life’s about to get messy, my reputation might pick up a few blemishes. I’ve been thinking a lot about my late father, who taught me plenty of things, and whose exacting standards I’ve always aspired to meet. But my father was one of the good ones.”

  He turned again, this time to look directly into one of the cameras in what Addie knew was a pointed message to George Brennan.

  “My father was one of the good ones,” Robert repeated. “And I know he’d be the first to tell me that there are more important things in life than reputation. That it’s more important to be a good person than a manufactured paragon of perfection. My father was a great man, but what I remember most about him is that my father loved. And he was loved. That’s the legacy I’m choosing to live on his behalf.”

  Robert cleared his throat, looking down at the podium a moment before lifting his head to look at the crowd. “I hope to serve the exemplary people of this city again someday.” His gaze came back to Addie’s. “In the meantime, I’ll be working on being the type of man you deserve. If you’ll have me.”

  She wiped at the corners of her eyes, knowing that he was talking to her. Only her.

  “Thank you, and good night,” Robert said quietly, stepping back from the podium.

  For a moment, there was only deafening silence. Then the entire room seemed to erupt, the front row of the press manic to be the first to get a question in, even as heads began turning to stare at her, the fact that the infamous Addie Brennan was in the house having circulated through the room like wildfire.

  “Addie?” Rosalie said in her left ear. “Can you hear me?”

  Addie jumped, having forgotten her earpiece. She pressed a finger to her ear and tried to back out of the pressing crowd, away from the noise. “I’m here.”

  “If you want to get out of here, say the word. I promised the mayor that I’d get you here, but I made him promise that if you wanted to leave, he had to let you. Just say the word. Luciana is already here to help with the party.”

  “What’d she say?” a muffled male voice said into the earpiece.

  “Mr. Mayor. Respectfully, please hush,” Rosalie said to the voice.

  Robert.

  Addie went to her toes, trying to see the stage over the crowd, realizing that Robert was no longer addressing the reporters but was off to the side of the stage, talking to Rosalie, who Addie could just see through the curtains.

  “What’d she say?” Addie heard him say again, more agitated this time.

  Addie let out a startled laugh. “Oh my God, Rosalie, that’s why you have the earpiece?”

  “It’s not Rosalie.”

  Addie froze as Robert slowly turned to face her across the room, something that she assumed to be Rosalie’s earpiece held up to his face.

  “Hey,” he said softly, when their gazes collided.

  “Hey,” she managed.

  “Rosalie made me promise I couldn’t turn you into a spectacle unless you wanted to be.”

  “A little late for that,” she said, giving an obvious glance to her left and right and the dozens of people who were very aware of what was happening between her and the mayor.

  He grinned across the room. “What can I say? I met this woman who’s made me
rethink the appeal of a scandal.”

  “Oh, this isn’t a scandal,” she said. “This is small-time. They’ll forget about it by next week.”

  “Huh,” he said, his eyes seeming to warm her, even across the room. “Any interest in giving them something to gossip about for years?”

  She could have sworn he was holding his breath, waiting for her answer, but she couldn’t be sure. Her own heart was pounding too loudly, as though it wanted to burst right out of her chest in happiness.

  “Addie?”

  “Ah, what the hell,” she said with a watery smile. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

  His smile seemed to freeze for a moment, as though he were afraid he’d heard her wrong. And then it grew very, very wide.

  She watched across the room as he handed the earpiece back to a beaming Rosalie. He strode purposefully across the stage. Down the steps.

  The crowd parted for him, the entire room now apparently aware, or at least suspecting, what was happening, and everyone wanted a front-row seat.

  Addie didn’t care. She barely noticed.

  And then he was in front of her, his gaze unabashedly adoring and not caring who knew it.

  “Good speech,” she said nonchalantly.

  “I thought so,” Robert said, stepping closer. “You have a favorite part?”

  “Hmm.” She pretended to think it over. “You said something about Addie Brennan. And how much you cared about her?”

  “Did I?” he asked. “I must have messed that part up. What I meant to say was how much I love Addie Blake.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “See, now that would have been a great speech.”