The President's Boyfriend

by Mallory Monroe

“And if they don’t put the tape out?” Kay asked.

  “But what other choice do we have?” Tammy asked. “They want a billion dollars! Do you have that kind of money laying around?”

  Kay frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said in a defeated voice. “I don’t have a thousand dollars to spare. But we can’t do it your way. The public will think I’m insane for suggesting some phantom tape is out there that may never even be produced. They’ll have hackers searching for this tape and commentators declaring something’s wrong with me for even suggesting a tape like that exists.”

  “Or they’ll claim the video does exists,” Rog said, “but you’re being blackmailed by foreign powers and you’re trying to soften the blow. Which would be a worse scenario than the tape itself! Because then the entire conversation will be about why is she being blackmailed? What did she do?”

  Kay shook her head. She was beyond frustrated. “I can’t win,” she said.

  “Following Tammy’s advice,” Rog said, “you for damn sure won’t win.”

  “I love you too, Rog,” Tammy said dismissively. “But at least early voting has already started. That could help get us over the hump.”

  But Rog was already shaking his head. “That’s not what the facts are showing. Early vote tallies are running about even between Democrats and Republicans. We don’t have a big advantage there. We may even have a disadvantage. We can’t depend on votes that are already being cast. Election day will decide this election. That’s when the independents and undecideds come out. And whoever has that video knows it.”

  “What if we go to the FBI?” asked Tammy. “Maybe they can run it down.”

  “Are you joking?” Kay asked. “The current occupant of the White House is using all levers of power as it is to benefit my opponent. He’s served his eight years and he wants another Republican in that White House. Who’s to say the FBI isn’t behind this smear to begin with?”

  “That’s what I told her,” Rog said. “I don’t know why she keeps bringing that up. The President and his men are using every dirty trick in the book. This one could be their October surprise on the first of November. We have got to get full possession of that video before they go public. Bottom line.”

  “Once it’s out there,” Kay said anxiously, “we will have precious little time before election day to tell the public to not believe their lying eyes. To disregard that incredible video that incriminates me beyond belief.” Her look turned grave. “An impossible task,” she added.

  “It’ll be proving the negative, which can’t be done,” Rog said. “And proving it times a thousand.”

  “But even if we get that video,” said Tammy, “there’s no way they don’t have copies. Getting it won’t be enough.”

  Rog knew it too. “Will you excuse us, Tammy?” he asked the press secretary.

  Tammy didn’t like being excluded. She felt she had just as much right to hear the plan as Rog did. But Rog was her boss, and Kay was the boss of them both. And Rog’s friend. She left, closing the door as she did.

  And Rog didn’t mince words. “We need his help,” he said. “I know you don’t like it. I know you would rather eat nails. But we’ve got to have his help. Even Tammy saw that just retrieving that video wasn’t going to be enough. And you know he won’t just get that video, he’ll stop anybody from using any copy of that video.” Then he looked her dead in the eyes. “You’ve got to go to him, Kay.”

  Kay opened her suit jacket and placed her hands on her hips. She didn’t want to hear it. She just didn’t!

  She shook her head. What else could they do? If that video got out, the President would gladly get his Justice Department to launch an investigation, and the Republicans on the Hill could call for committee hearing after committee hearing, and the whole thing could become a fiasco of the highest order. With her as the bait.

  Kay pinched the bridge of her nose. Her anguish was immeasurable. She still couldn’t believe that all she worked for would hang in the balance, and Nico Bacard, of all people, might just be the only person on earth who could help her out of the fix she was in.

  “There’s no other alternative,” Rog said as if to amplify the point; as if he sensed that she was finally coming around to the reality of the situation. “He’s the only man we know with as much reach as the FBI, and more ability to stop bad things in their tracks, before it destroys the woman he once loved. If that video is out there, he’ll not only find it, but find out who’s behind it.”

  Then Rog made it even plainer. “One of our mega donors has a plane waiting, Kay. There’s a van out back on the loading dock that’s supposed to be loading supplies through our back door. That van will get you to the airport undetected by your Secret Service detail, or any nosy reporters. A car will be waiting for you at the airfield on the Riviera, where he lives. And you’ll go to him. It’s all been arranged.”

  Kay looked at him. “When you say it’s all been arranged, does that mean he knows I’m coming?”

  “Everything’s been arranged,” Rog said, “except that. I figured it would be best if he sees your face. In person.”

  “Because he might turn us down,” Kay said. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  Rog wasn’t going to lie to his best friend. “Yes,” he said.

  Kay smiled. Unbelievable! “And if I don’t go to him?” she asked Rog.

  “If you don’t go,” Rog said, “you can kiss victory goodbye. Point blank period. Full stop.”

  Kay leaned her head back. All of her years of hard work. All of her positioning and angling and ass kissing and jumping through hoops and doing everything she was supposed to do to get to this place in her life would go up in smoke over a lying video? And Nico, of all people, was the only person who could help her? Nico? The man who broke her heart?

  It was too much. Way too much.

  But Kay was a realist. She knew Rog was right. There was no other way.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A quiet night on the French Riviera as Nico stood in the living room of his magnificent home carved on a hill, a home with all-windows and no-walls, and stared out over the enormous expanse that surrounded him. With a glass of champagne in his hand, he listened to the soft hum of jazz on a phonograph he purchased at auction for in excess of a million dollars, and felt the headaches of the day melt away beneath that Coltrane sax. He was in another place. He was completely and utterly relaxed.

  But, as usual in his busy, double life, there was an interruption. His phone rang. At first, he didn’t budge. If it mattered, they’d call back. If it didn’t, they wouldn’t.

  They called back.

  And Nico wasn’t pleased. He was trying to decompress. He walked over to a nearby table and picked up the landline. “Yes?”

  It was Kofi, his number two. “Have you heard anything from Sal Gabrini?”

  “No.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “We did it.”

  “How many did we take out?”

  “At least sixteen. I think more. But at least the sixteen you ordered.”

  “What about our side? Did we take any casualties on our end?”

  “We lost one.”

  “Who?”

  “Kid named Jeremy Dack. You don’t know him. He was relatively new.”

  Nico exhaled. Unfortunately, that kind of news went with the territory. “Okay.”

  “What if he doesn’t call, Boss? What if he just hits back?”

  “That’s not Sal’s style. He’ll call.”

  “So we wait?”

  “Yes, we wait,” Nico said with irritation in his voice. “You have a problem with that?”

  “No. No problem. I didn’t mean anything by it, Nico. The guys are asking questions. I need to know what to tell them.”

  “You don’t tell those fuckers anything. That’s what you tell them. Nothing!” And then he slammed down the phone.

  Motherfuckers, Nico said out loud. But the truth was t
he truth: if Sal Gabrini didn’t see the wisdom in keeping the peace, and forced Nico’s hand, there would be war. Which would be damning. And could cause problems for Sal, but also for Nico. Because they both flew under the radar on purpose. And that was the part all those under Nico never seemed to understand. They were successful because Nico kept them under that radar too. And he wasn’t about to let anybody destroy that image he’d cultivated all of his adult life.

  But he wasn’t at home to get into it with Kofi or anybody else. He was home to relax. To find peace again before he had to handle another crisis.

  And for the most part it worked. He was grooving to Coltrane again, and Dizzy after him. And it was all good.

  Until he saw car headlights in the distance, and a car heading straight up the winding hill, toward his estate.

  Nico frowned. “Who the fuck is that?” he wondered out loud. His men, both in his syndicate and in his corporation, knew not to come to his home without permission. It just wasn’t done. Who didn’t get the memo?

  But when Nico saw the car stop, and when he saw Kay Laine step out of that car, he would have sworn his heart stopped. His hand lost all grip on his glass and it crashed to the floor with a resounding crash. And he didn’t even hear it. “Kay? Is that Kay?” He was unable to believe his eyes.

  And then he hurried over to his front door, and opened it with a wide swing to be certain he was seeing who he thought he saw.

  When he opened the door, Kay was already approaching it. And she stopped in her tracks, too, when she saw Nico.

  They had not seen each other, in person, in a decade. In ten long years. And now she was right in front of him? And he was right in front of her?

  Neither knew what to do. Neither knew what to say.

  Until Nico finally breathe again, and opened his door wider.

  Without a word being spoken, Kay walked across the threshold. And they both remembered it all too well. They couldn’t stop remembering how that once-in-a-lifetime love came together for them, and how it all fell apart.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ten Years Earlier

  “Pastrami.”

  “How much?”

  “Two pounds.”

  After the butcher sliced the meat, he grabbed a sheet of wax paper, set it on the scale, and flopped the pastrami on the paper. “Little over,” he said to the customer.

  Ralph Sturgis looked at the meat. “How much over?”

  “Couple of slices.”

  Ralph thought about it. Then he nodded. “I’ll take it.”

  As the butcher wrapped the meat and placed the price tag on it, Ralph looked out of the big picture window. When he saw the car stop at the curb, and saw the man get out in an overcoat, he immediately knew something was off. It was too warm a day for a coat that big, and the way the guy was looking in his direction and then was heading toward the entrance made Ralph concerned too. He knew he could be overreading it. He was known to be a very paranoid man. But just because he was paranoid didn’t mean they weren’t after him.

  And he didn’t delay. He backed up, and then began hurrying toward the back exit. He had planned to leave that way anyway, in case somebody had followed him. He just didn’t plan to leave that soon.

  “What are you doing?” the butcher yelled after him, when he saw him running away. “You forgot your meat!”

  The man he was running from entered the deli, removed his overcoat and flapped it over the back of a chair, and went up and ordered his usual: corned beef on rye. Which meant Ralph, as usual, was just paranoid.

  But Ralph didn’t know it. He was hurrying down hall after hall to get to that back door, determined to run all the way to his apartment. Ever since he agreed to help her, his guard had been up. It was the boldest move he’d ever made. Maybe the craziest too. But the pay day was going to make it worth it. But that was only if he could keep his ass alive long enough to collect.

  When he saw that back door, it felt like liberation. And he didn’t delay there either. He ran through that opened door, and then ran down four rickety steps. And then ran straight into the hard frame of a muscular man he knew very well. And it stopped him in his tracks.

  He was stunned. “Nico? What are you doing here?”

  But Nico didn’t answer that question. He grabbed Ralph by the throat, ran him back up those steps, and slammed his head into the door knob, causing him to shriek with pain. “Where is she?” he yelled at him. He slammed his head again. “Where is she?!”

  “Where’s who? Who are you talking about?!”

  Nico slammed his head yet again, and that third time was the charm. The blood gushed out that time.

  But Ralph was determined to still play dumb. “I don’t know who you’re talking about!” he yelled again. “Honest, man, I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

  Nico was about to slam his head again, a slam even Ralph knew his head might not be able to bear. “She’s at my place!” he yelled quickly, scared and defeated, and Nico stopped. “She’s at my place,” Ralph said again. “I’ll take you to her. Just stop. Please.”

  Nico slung Ralph down the steps, causing Ralph to stumble down and fall in the dirt. Then Nico walked down and stared down at him. “Get your ass up,” he said to the older man.

  When Ralph stood up, Nico frisked him. When he found a snub-nose .38 Special in his pocket, he grabbed it, and pointed it at Ralph’s nose. “Try something stupid at your peril. Now move,” Nico ordered, and pushed Ralph in front of him.

  By the time they made it to the apartment, which was three blocks away, Ralph was begging for his life. He didn’t have anything to do with it, he claimed. Patrice was the mastermind. All he did was let her crash at his apartment until she got the money. She was going to toss a couple grand his way, but that was only because he was helping her out. He didn’t even agree with what she’d done. “Trying to extort money from a sitting senator? I told her she was out of her mind!”

  “You’re the one out of your mind,” Nico said, “if you think I believe what you’re saying. Now open the door, and don’t try any stupid shit!”

  Ralph opened the door of the studio apartment. And as soon as he did, Patrice Langer, who was lying on the sofa, sat upright. “Did anybody follow you?” she asked him anxiously, but then she saw Nico come up behind him.

  “I would have thought so,” Nico said. “But who am I? You’re the two geniuses.”

  Patrice tried to reach for her gun from off of the coffee table, but Nico knew both of them for years. He was ready for her. And he fired at the hand she reached out, grazing it.

  “Motherfuck!” Patrice cried out, holding her hand as the pain shot through her body.

  Nico kicked the door shut with his feet and pushed Ralph onto the sofa with her. “Where is it?” he asked Patrice.

  But Patrice was only concerned about her pain. “Why did you shoot me, Nico?” she cried. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Nico fired a second shot, this time just missing her head. “Where is it?” he asked again.

  And it was that second shot that sobered up both Patrice and Ralph. They knew Nico didn’t play.

  She reached inside of her pants, pulled out an envelope, and tossed it on the table.

  Nico shook his head. “You fools,” he said. “When will you ever learn there’s no such thing as easy money?” He walked up to the table, grabbed the envelope, and checked out the contents. And then he looked at Patrice and Ralph. “Are there any copies?”

  “No.”

  “If I find out otherwise--”

  “There isn’t,” Patrice said. “It’ll defeat the purpose if I did that, now wouldn’t it?”

  “What you did to begin with defeats the purpose,” Nico said. “Let us be clear.”

  “Just let us go, Nico,” Patrice begged. “What does this have to do with you?”

  “You don’t play with fire,” Nico said. “You get burned.”

  “But what does it have to do with you?”

  “I’m
the burn,” Nico said, looking Patrice dead in her eyes.

  And Patrice knew he meant it. And she panicked. “Nico, please,” she said. “You have what you came for. Just let us go. Tell him we got away. Tell him you killed us. Tell him whatever you want to tell him.”

  “I will tell the truth,” Nico said. “And you’d better be telling me the truth. Are there any more?”

  “No,” said Ralph. “Why would we do that?”

  Patrice was shaking her head. “I gave you the negatives too. There are no more. I tell you on my honor.”

  Nico chuckled. Her honor. Right!

  “We’ll get lost,” she said. “Just let us go!”

  “I will,” Nico said. “But not like you mean,” he added.

  But before anything could go down, Ralph had reached under the bed, grabbed a loaded Glock, and was aiming it directly at Nico’s head.

  Nico saw the gun just as he flung it up and aimed it, and he turned and fired at Ralph before Ralph could get off a single shot.

  But as he was firing at Ralph, Patrice was grabbing for her gun again, even with her grazed hand, and managed to secure it this time. Nico turned just as she was pulling the trigger and he had to dive to avoid getting hit. But as he was diving, he was shooting, too, and he took out Patrice before she had a chance to fire again.

  He landed on his back, with both hands on his gun, as Patrice slumped down dead. Joining Ralph, her partner in crime.

  “Shit!” Nico said aloud, as he realized how he literally dodged that bullet. And how two hustlers from way back like Ralph and Patrice, who should have known better than to box outside of their weight by threatening a sitting senator, weren’t going to.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kay Laine stopped at the curb, grabbed her briefcase and coffee, and got out of her Chevy Camaro. She hurried across the sidewalk and entered the campaign headquarters of Senator Eddie Drake. She looked at the clock on the wall. She knew she was late. She just didn’t realize how late.

  “Here’s the mail, Kay,” the receptionist said as she walked in, the sounds of computer typing and phone conversations almost drowning out her voice.