Running Mate

by Katie Ashley

  “I am.”

  A feeling of unease washed over me. I didn’t have any reason in the world to doubt Addison’s story, but something just seemed off with her. “Okay. We can just meet up in the morning.”

  “That sounds good.”

  We didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, instead burying our heads in our phones. When Charlie alerted us we had arrived, Addison tossed her phone in her purse before fumbling for the door handle. It was like she couldn’t get out of the car fast enough—or maybe she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

  Just before the door slammed shut, she called, “Bye!”

  “Bye,” I replied, but the door had already closed behind her.

  Ty turned around his seat. “What was that about?”

  “I have no fucking clue.”

  “Did you say something shitty to her, Captain Insensitive?”

  I threw Ty a death glare. “No, asshole, I didn’t. Besides, you were on the plane with us. You know exactly what was said.”

  With a thoughtful look, Ty replied, “That’s true.” He shrugged. “Must be hormones.”

  I chuckled. “I sure as hell wouldn’t mention that to her tomorrow.”

  Ty grinned. “Affirmative on that. So where do you want to eat?”

  “I don’t care what we eat as long as we eat now. I’m starving.”

  “Two blocks ahead there’s a great Indian restaurant.”

  “Works for me.”

  Charlie let us out at the door of my favorite Indian place. The moment we brushed through the front door, the delicious smell of spices entered my nose, sending my stomach roaring. After the hostess seated us, the James Bond-looking watch Ty always wore dinged. When he glanced down at it, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought Addison said she was going to stay in tonight and pack.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  He shook his head. “Then why did she just leave her apartment?”

  “Wait, how do you know she left?”

  “I have a tracking device in her phone.”

  I widened my eyes at him. “What the hell, dude? Don’t tell me you’ve rigged my apartment with cameras, too?”

  Ty rolled his eyes. “No, I haven’t. Until your father officially accepts the nomination and the Secret Service assigns someone to you, I can’t possibly trail your ass and hers at the same time.”

  “In the meantime, you decided to put a lojack on Addison’s phone?”

  “It was a necessary evil.”

  “You know she would flip her shit if she found out.”

  “At first, but then I think she would see reason once I explained about all the potential nut-jobs who could be stalking her.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Nice one, scare her into submission.”

  Instead of a comeback, Ty studied his watch, his brows lined in concentration. “Maybe she decided to go grab something to eat?” I suggested.

  “That’s what I originally thought, but she’s en route somewhere.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “She’s in a cab or on a bus.” Ty squinted. “Okay, she just got off on 8th Street.”

  “Well, 8th Street is full of restaurants, so that makes sense if she’s getting something to eat.”

  “But why would she travel that far to eat alone?”

  I sucked in a breath as a feeling of being sucker-punched washed over me. “She’s going out.”

  “Yeah, ace, that’s pretty obvious.”

  “No, I mean, she’s going out-out, like she’s meeting up with someone.” Swallowing hard, I added, “A man.”

  “You don’t know that. She could be meeting up with some friends.”

  “Then why didn’t she tell me? Why did she lie about staying in and resting?”

  A worried look flashed in Ty’s eyes. “I don’t know. I just know Addison isn’t the type to break a deal. She knows what is at stake. She couldn’t possibly be seen in DC with another man without causing a complete scandal.”

  “The more I think about it, the more I realize she’s been a little secretive lately, like taking hushed phone calls in the middle of the night—not to mention, the last two times we’ve been back home, she’s left to go visit her brother in Arlington.” I shook my head.

  “I’m starting to think visiting her brother is code for getting the D.”

  Ty snorted. “Once again, Addison doesn’t impress me as the type to screw around. If anyone was going to do it, it would be you.”

  “Well, I’m not the one sneaking off to 8th Street, am I?”

  Ty didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at his watch again. “She’s stopped somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know, it’s not that advanced. It only tells me an address, not the name of the place.”

  I slammed my palms down on the table, causing the water glasses to shake and overflow. “Okay, enough speculation. Let’s go bust her cheating ass!”

  Pursing his lips at me, Ty countered, “Don’t you think the more rational thing to do would be to call her? Or maybe just ask her about it in the morning?”

  “When in my life have I ever made a rational decision?”

  Ty snorted. “Never.”

  “Exactly.” Since he still didn’t appear completely convinced, I said, “Okay, Mr. Protector, what if someone recognizes her and slips a roofie in her drink to take compromising pictures to sell to the press?”

  My suggestion sent the wheels in Ty’s head spinning in overdrive so fast I could almost see smoke curling from his ears. “They could take advantage of her,” he growled.

  “Yes, they could,” I goaded.

  Just as the waitress appeared to take our drink order, Ty bolted out of his chair, almost toppling the middle-aged woman to the floor. Always the gentleman, he reached out to steady her. “I’m very sorry ma’am, but we have to go.”

  Without even checking to see if I was behind him, he started for the door. After joining him in two long strides, I pulled out my phone to let Charlie know we were ready to be picked up. When Charlie let me know he was just across the street, Ty and I darted into traffic and began weaving our way to meet him. Charlie had just scrambled out of the car to get the door when we met up with him.

  “Would you like a different restaurant choice, sir?”

  “No. I need you to take us to—” I glanced back at Ty.

  “143 8th Street,” he answered.

  Charlie gave a quick nod as Ty and I got into the car. Once he shut the door behind us, he hustled back around to get inside. Since it was a Friday night, traffic was slammed, and my impatience grew as we inched along at a freakin’ snail’s pace.

  As I drummed my fingers against my thigh, I kept a constant look at Ty’s phone. At any minute, I expected him to say that she was on the move again, but he never did. Wherever Addison was, she appeared to be staying there.

  “There it is!” Ty suddenly exclaimed. Of course, it would be on his side of the car. I practically dove across him to peer out the window. “Looks like a club,” Ty remarked.

  Although I hated to admit it, he was right—the flashing marquee and line out the door screamed club. “Figures she would be out looking for a quick hookup.”

  Ty laughed as he shoved me off him. “Do you realize how ironic it is that you’re saying that?”

  “Whatever.” I patted Charlie on the back. “We’ll get out here.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll wait for your call.”

  “Oof,” Ty muttered as I elbowed him in the gut in my efforts to scramble out of his side of car. “Barrett, you don’t have to be in such a rush. She hasn’t left.”

  “I want to catch her in the act before she has the chance to leave.”

  After making our way between the traffic-stalled cars, we stepped onto the sidewalk where a giggling bachelorette party outfitted in boas and tiaras stood in line in front of us. A couple months ago, I might’ve tried hitting on some of the inebriated bridesmaids-to-be, but
at the moment, all I cared about was getting to Addison. I was just about to ask Ty to pull his badge to get us inside quicker when another bachelorette party arrived and we got sandwiched between the crazy groups. My ears rang from the ear-splitting squeals and screeches of conversation.

  Then the line burst forward like a rushing river, and Ty and I were carried along on the wave of bridesmaids. The current finally poured us out into a blackened room with multicolored neon lights, and steady bass thumped from behind a velvet curtain.

  It was at that moment that my mind starting putting two and two together. A club plus lots of drunken bridesmaids equaled the probability that Magic Mike-type shit was about to go down. Was it actually possible that Addison had abandoned me to get dry humped by some oiled-up dude in a banana hammock?

  Leaning over closer to Ty, I asked, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That they should replace waterboarding with a constant loop of drunken women chattering?” Ty replied as he stuck a finger in one of his ears.

  I scowled at him. “No.”

  “Fine. What?”

  “This is a strip club.” Since I could see Ty’s mind was going to poles, platform heels, and a sea of tits, I added, “A male strip club.”

  A mask of horror came over Ty’s face. “Are you shitting me?”

  “I wish.”

  Ty started to protest, but then the wave of bridesmaids overcame us again as we all started moving toward the curtain. When we got to the pay stand, a shrill voice behind me said, “They’re with us.”

  Before I could argue that we were most definitely not with them, a hand smacked me on the ass. I whirled around to see a stacked brunette wearing a blinking Bride-To-Be tiara. “Sit next to me, sweetcheeks,” she slurred as she ran her finger provocatively down my chest. When she got to my belt buckle, I spun away from her, shoving Ty between us.

  My action caused Ty to break out into a hysterical laugh, one fueled by both amusement and fear. It was certainly not one you would expect from an ex-military man. If I hadn’t been so freaked out myself, I would have given him serious shit about it.

  Thankfully, Miss Happy Hands was distracted by one of her friends passing her a sparkly flask. When we dipped through the curtain, I braced myself for what I was about to experience. In my mind, I expected half-naked men to be thrusting on women’s laps or twerking in their faces while dollar bills got stuffed into g-string clad bulges.

  What I actually saw shocked the hell out of me, mainly because it was nothing like I expected. Sure, there were the usual strobe lights and disco balls hanging from the ceiling as well as a lighted stage in the center of the room. The long tables set up throughout the room were draped in white linen, and they were set with real plates and glass goblets. For a minute, it felt like being at a political fundraising dinner. Never having been in a male strip club before, I had nothing to compare to, and I figured it just boiled down to the fact that women were a hell of a lot classier than men.

  While my gaze swept around the packed room for any sight of Addison, Ty steered us over to an empty table for two. Thankfully, we weren’t going to have to sit with any horny bachelorettes. The overhead lights flickered on and off, signaling the show was about to start.

  An attractive waitress appeared before us in a Day-Glo pink wig and glittering dress. “What can I get you gentlemen to drink?”

  Normally, I would have just gone for a beer, but tonight called for something a little stronger. “A shot of your best scotch and a Heineken.”

  Ty bobbed his head. “I’ll have the same.”

  Just as the waitress moved on to the next table, the lights went completely out, plunging the room into pitch blackness. Immediately, the crowd erupted into cheers and whistles.

  “How the hell are we going to find Addison in all of this?” Ty questioned.

  “I say when the lights come back on and the men come out, we start going table to table.”

  Ty chuckled. “Have you really thought out that plan?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the part where we go from table to table of drunk, horny women in a male strip club.”

  I cringed. “I see what you mean.”

  “Although it’s been a while for me on the sex front, I’m still not in the mood to have my junk randomly groped,” he added.

  “It might do you some good,” I countered.

  “I haven’t come in my pants since I was sixteen years old.”

  “Fine, here’s a better plan: you go hang out with the bachelorettes while I look for Addison. I’m pretty sure any one of them, Miss Happy Hands Bride included, would be happy to take you to the bathroom and screw your brains out.”

  “I am not abandoning you to the wolves, not even for some ass.”

  Just as I was about to thank him, music blared out of the speakers. Recognizing it as Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks Like a Lady”, I thought it was an odd choice, but once again, what did I know.

  The stage lights blazed on, momentarily blinding me. When my eyes adjusted, I peered at the stage. It wasn’t a bunch of Magic Mikes who came strutting onto the stage. Don’t get me wrong, they were men, but they were dressed in glittering sequins and intricate beading. Wearing wigs in every color of the rainbow, their lips glistened with shiny gloss.

  Ty and I slowly swiveled our heads to stare at each other. We both wore the same What the fuck? looks.

  Yes, ladies and gentleman, we had just officially chased Addison down to a drag show.

  Our waitress then returned with our drinks. Peering up at her, I realized what I had missed before: she was also a he in drag.

  As she served Ty, I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed alcohol stat, so I grabbed my scotch off her tray and downed it in one gulp. “I think I’m going to need another,” I said, placing the glass back down.

  “Yes sir.”

  When the waitress left, I shook my head. “We’ve somehow stumbled into the fucking Twilight Zone. I mean, what the hell could Addison possibly be doing here?”

  After Ty threw back his scotch, his expression became extremely grave. “You haven’t seen Addison naked, have you?”

  “No, of course not. Why?”

  “I’m just wondering if she might really be a dude.”

  Now it was my turn to do the hysterical laugh. “Bullshit. There’s no way Addison is a dude.” Not with all those luscious curves of hers. At Ty’s continued skeptical look, I added, “Dad had the FBI run a background check when she started at the campaign, along with another one before he asked her to be my fiancée. If there was a dick on her, don’t you think the feds would have sniffed it out?”

  He stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “True, but why does the lead guy remind me of Addison?”

  When I followed Ty’s gaze, my stomach jumped into my throat. The guy—or girl—did look like Addison in the face. Same bone structure, same eye color. Holy fucking shit. Was it possible that Addison was a man?

  At the end of the song, applause and cheering rang out around us. While the other ladies exited to the left and right, the Addison lookalike came to the center of the stage. “Good evening. Welcome to Divas. I’m so glad you could join us tonight. I am Estrella, your hostess this evening.” When more applause and catcalls followed, Estrella bowed. “Thank you, thank you. I appreciate your enthusiasm. My cleavage also appreciates your green enthusiasm, if you know what I mean.” Bending over, she flashed her chest to the crowd, showing it was stuffed with money.

  “We have a really phenomenal show for you this evening, and I am proud to welcome a very special guest tonight. It isn’t very often that her talent gets to grace the stage here at Divas, so hold on to your tits and your dicks, and put your hands together for the lovely and talented Adriana!”

  The curtain went down, and the lights once again dimmed as an upbeat, 80s-sounding tempo filled the air. The multicolored stage lights began to flicker before the curtain flung open. The giant swig of b
eer I’d just taken spewed out onto the table at the sight of Addison—the real Addison—striding down the stage. She might’ve had on a long black wig, platform heels, and an inch of stage makeup, but it was definitely her. Part of me exhaled a relieved breath that it was Addison and that there wasn’t a chance she was Estrella and hiding a dick.

  “Holy hell, she’s Cher,” Ty muttered.

  Oh yeah, she was Cher all right. She was Cher circa 1987 in the “If I Could Turn Back Time” video—and before you revoke my man card, I would argue that my mother was a huge Cher fan. In fact, I met her when she performed at my mother’s fiftieth birthday party.

  In case you’ve never seen the video, Cher basically sports fishnet stockings and black electrical tape worn like a skimpy body suit to moderately cover her tits and ass along with a black leather jacket. Even after Assgate and sharing a hotel room for the last few months, I’d never seen so much of Addison on display. It was incredibly unnerving and so incredibly sexy watching her perform.

  After Addison danced past our table, Ty elbowed me. “You know, she’s really good.”

  “You said the same thing when she was belting Evita on the bus.”

  “Yeah, I meant it then, and I mean it now, too. She’s one hell of an actress to be able to sound like Cher.”

  “Let’s not forget the fact that she can act like she’s in love with me.”

  Ty chuckled. “That’s true.”

  When the music ended, Addison brought her fingers to her lips and then blew a kiss to the audience. After taking a deep bow, she waved and then started off the stage.

  Estrella came back out, and this time she was Cher, but Cher circa 1965 with the long, straight hair. Her blue bell-bottoms sparkled along with her silver halter top. “Good evening again, friends. It’s no secret that we’re big fans of Cher around here.” She tossed some of her dark hair over her shoulder while licking her tongue over her top lip, mimicking Cher’s signature early moves. “Whenever Adrianna comes to Divas, we can’t help but put on a few extra Cher songs.”

  The opening strains of “I’ve Got You Babe” began, and Addison reappeared from behind the curtain. This time she wore a short black wig and a white button-down shirt with a fuzzy vest and pants. Her transformation into Sonny circa the late 60s was completed by a black mustache. It was like a Victor/Victoria moment where she was a girl pretending to be a man, leaving me to feel like I was on some sort of acid trip.