Rumor Has It (18 page)

“I don't like sleeping in the dark.”

“Turn the lights off.”

She got out of the bed and hit the switch to turn the lamps off. “Happy?” she asked as she climbed back into bed.

“It's a start,” he said. “Next, you get back into my arms.”

“This relaxing thing seems pretty good,” she said when she rested her head on his chest. He stroked her arm.

“Finally, close your eyes,” he whispered against her ear.

“I'm not sleepy,” she replied.

“I didn't say go to sleep,” he said as he slipped his hand between her thighs. “I said relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax when you're doing that?” Liza moaned and Jackson squeezed her thigh gently.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he said as he continued to massage her thigh. “Breathe in slowly.”

She followed his directive and took slow, deep breaths. His hands made her forget rumors, debates, and anything else that had been stressing her. It felt so good. So good. And before she knew it, Liza had fallen fast asleep.

Chapter 21

The next morning, Liza treated Jackson to a home-cooked breakfast of eggs, sizzling turkey bacon, and French toast. But when he walked into the kitchen in his slacks and no shirt, she didn't want to eat the food she'd cooked; instead she wanted to pour maple syrup on his chest and lick it off.
Have mercy,
she thought as she turned away from him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning. I hope you like French toast.” She busied herself making a pot of coffee and warned herself not to focus on the carnal desires flowing through her brain.

“It smells delicious in here. I guess this is a better idea than heading to The Original Pancake House again.”

Liza reached for two coffee mugs as she nodded. “I'm sure Robert is looking for some kind of drama to pop off so that he can use it in the debate tonight.”

“Are you going to be there?” he asked as she handed him his mug of coffee. “You never answered me last night.”

“I don't think that's the best idea. There's no need to add fuel to the fire. You need to be focused on the issues and not worrying about the next rumor that's going to be started about us.”

“That's your bag. I'm not worried about what Robert and his team are going to try to say. There are real issues that people are concerned about. I get e-mails about them every day. That's the difference between me and Robert.”

A lightbulb popped on in her head. “What are you doing with those e-mails?”

He shrugged. “I answer all of them and, hopefully, I'm guiding people in the right direction.”

“You should use those in your debate. You should show Robert and the voters that you're in tune with the people and what their needs are. Do you plan on doing any commercials?”

“That's really not in the budget,” he said, then took a sip of coffee.

“Unofficially, I can help you. A few YouTube videos and just one to go viral will make you the front-runner that no one will be able to catch up with.”

Jackson shook his head. “I thought we made a deal?”

“Then just take my idea and let Teresa handle it. Jackson, I believe in you.”

He set his coffee mug down and crossed over to her. Drawing Liza into his arms, he kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“It's not the most . . .”

He silenced her with a deep kiss. Liza closed her eyes and saw a future with Jackson. She saw a white gown, heard promises of love and believed them.

Those thoughts scared the living hell out of her. She broke the kiss and smiled at him, hoping her eyes didn't betray her inner turmoil. How was it possible that she was falling for this man so quickly?

“So, what did I do to deserve that?” she asked.

Jackson stroked her cheek. “You're just you,” he said. “And I think you're starting to relax a little.”

“After last night, I think I like relaxing.” She kissed his chin. “But are you going to at least shoot one video?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Remember the rules?”

“Whatever.” Liza pushed him playfully and grabbed her cup of coffee. “Why don't we just pretend that it was your idea?”

“Anyway, Liza. Why don't we just talk about how awesome this breakfast is going to be?” He winked at her and headed over to the breakfast bar.

“Don't set your standards too high,” she said. “Cooking has never been my forte.”

He dug into his eggs and discovered that Liza wasn't telling the whole truth. But then again, who couldn't cook eggs? Turned out that the whole meal was delicious.

“And you said you couldn't cook,” he said as he reached for a strip of bacon from her plate.

She smacked his hand. “Greedy!”

“Next time, cook more.” He grinned and broke the strip in half. He held out the bacon to her and Liza took it into her mouth—licking his fingertips at the same time.

“I must admit, your fingers made that bacon taste a lot better.”

Jackson looked at the clock on the stove. “I'd better get going. Teresa and I have some debate prep to do.” He rose to his feet and Liza tilted her head.

“Forgetting something?” she asked, then pointed at his bare chest. “That's the picture that we need to see on the news this morning. Candidate for senate seen leaving alleged call girl's house shirtless.”

“That's not funny,” he said. “No one said you were a call girl.”

“I bet if you win the debate, they will.” She took their empty dishes and dropped them in the sink. “I'm sorry, I guess this isn't me relaxing.”

“No, it isn't. But we're going to work on that later,” he said with a wink.

“I think your shirt is in the bathroom.”

When he headed upstairs, Liza grabbed her cell phone and checked her e-mail. She wasn't surprised to see that there were more than ten Google alerts about her. Most of the articles she'd seen before, but when she saw a story where the South Park Madam had issued a statement about her, Liza read it in disbelief.

“Yes!” she shouted as she read the denial. Liza almost wanted to find this woman and hug her and give her a kiss.

Jackson rushed into the kitchen, his shirt half buttoned. “What's wrong?”

“Finally something is right!” She shoved her iPhone underneath his nose. “Looks like I'll be at the debate after all.”

Jackson gripped her wrist to keep her hand from waving. “Calm down, Liza,” he said. “I can't read this if you keep waving your hand.”

“The South Park Madam said she doesn't even know me.”

“That's great news and I told you that this would work out.”

“I can only imagine how Robert is feeling right now. I told him that he wouldn't win by playing dirty and not to make an enemy of me.”

Jackson buttoned his shirt and then kissed Liza on the cheek. “Let me remember that as well.” He took her hand in his as they walked to the door. “The next few weeks are going be hectic, so if you don't hear from me, I want you to know I'm going to be thinking about you.”

Liza nodded. While she understood the election was close and he had to focus, she couldn't help but miss him already. “Maybe you should just focus on the election. I want you to win because you're the best man for the job.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“See you later,” he said, then walked out the door. Liza watched him as he backed out of the driveway and wondered if there was something she could do behind the scenes to help him win the senate seat.

As her phone rang, she decided that she was going to find the woman who was in Robert's office that day. He had a lie, but she had the truth!

“Hello?” she said when she retrieved her phone from the breakfast bar.

“Liza, it's Chante.” Immediately, Liza didn't like the sound of her friend's voice.

“What's wrong?”

She sighed. “Robert.”

“What did he do now?”

“He went to my partners about the fund-raiser and basically said that I'd fallen victim to your lies and he still wanted their support. So, this morning I get a call from Taiwon, that asshole, who said I need to keep my personal business out of the office and then he threatened me with suspension.”

“What?! Why?”

“Taiwon seems to think Robert is going to be a great senator for the business sector of this district and doesn't think Jackson has what it takes to make a difference in Raleigh. He won't even take my proposal to the partners that we give a donation to both. I'm willing to bet that Robert's making a deal with the big cash donors. I'm really starting to loathe that man.” Chante groaned. “I know this all could've been avoided had I just listened to you and . . .”

“It's okay,” Liza said. “I'm just confused about who's the bigger ass, Taiwon or Robert. You know what, though, I have an idea. Since Robert wants to spread rumors, let's spread some truths about him.”

“Are you talking about that trollop?” Chante asked.

Liza wanted to laugh. Who called a woman a trollop in the twenty-first century? “Yes, I'm talking about the woman in the pictures. Before you, Robert was known to date rats. And from the way big-booty Judy went off when I walked in on them, she is more of a rat than a trollop. But she was really mad about him being in a relationship. Who knows what Robert promised her.”

“Whatever. I'm not sure about outing her. You know how these things turn out. The man is forgiven and the woman is called all kinds of names for the rest of her life.”

“You're forgetting a few things: we're not talking presidential sex, we're not talking John Edwards, and Robert is a black man. The media loves to see the rise and fall of a black man in politics. And for once, I actually want to see this story as well.”

“But do we really want to take it this far? Wait, don't answer that and I'm going to pretend that I don't know anything about any of this.”

“What if I put you on retainer and you represent her in case things get hairy? I'm going to put her story out there.”

“I can't believe I'm agreeing to this. Bring me my check along with a salted caramel brownie from Amelie's or there is no deal.”

“You drive a hard bargain, counselor. I'll see you in about thirty minutes.”

After a quick shower and two more cups of coffee, Liza was dressed and ready to bring Robert to his knees. Part of her mourned for the man she thought he was, and on the drive to Amelie's, she almost talked herself out of the plan. She wanted to see if Jackson's Pollyanna view of politics was right. For his sake, she hoped that it was. But the realist inside her wasn't going to leave his beating Robert to chance. People deserved to know the unfettered truth about Robert freaking Montgomery.

Standing in line at the bakery to get the brownies she'd promised Chante, Liza strengthened her resolve. Robert tried to ruin her with lies; she'd bury him with the truth and then tweet about it. It was the only fair thing to do. He knew that if she had the call girl stigma attached to her, it would destroy her business. And there was no way in hell that she was going to allow Robert to beat her. She just hoped Jackson would understand.

 

 

Jackson, now freshly showered and dressed in a pair of black slacks and his 82nd Airborne T-shirt, sat in his campaign headquarters surrounded by three advisors and Teresa—who wasn't excited about Jackson's opening statement.

“This is boring,” she said flatly. “Who wrote this?”

“I did,” Jackson said. “This is what my campaign is about and it's the truth. What do you suggest?” He was starting to get frustrated. He couldn't remember the last time he had someone pick out his clothes and what kind of bottled water he should drink at the podium. Smart Water, the image consultant had said, gave him an air of pretension. Hell, he thought it was damned good water. So, he'd agreed to take the Deer Park.

But he wasn't about to let anyone change his words. Jackson knew he wasn't flashy. He hadn't been running as the shiny suit candidate and he didn't plan to do so in this debate.

“What I suggest is you put away the political cliché handbook and be the man people met at all of those campaign stops. Be the man who had a bunch of scared parents watching their kids march into Uncle Sam's army smiling and feeling secure.” She tossed his speech back at him. “This is bullshit. This is boring. This isn't going to get you elected, and it damn sure isn't going to beat Montgomery.”

“I think we need a break.” He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back his dissatisfaction.

“No,” Teresa said. “We need to focus. Something we should have been doing over the last few days, but it seems as if your head was someplace else.”

“Is this about me having a life?” Jackson snapped.

Teresa slammed her hand on the desk. “I've spent months breaking my back for you. Making sure this campaign was everything you wanted it to be—clean, fair, and honest.”

“What are you saying?” he demanded. “Haven't I done everything that I'm supposed to do?”

“I don't think you get this. You don't realize how much people believe in you and I'm watching you piss it away.”

“We need a break,” he said again, wondering where Teresa's hostility was coming from. He shooed the other advisors out of the room, then turned to face Teresa. “What in the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” She snorted. “I'm not the one with the problem. You're in and out of Liza Palmer's office and house as if people aren't watching you. As if Robert and his ilk don't have a kid with an iPhone following you around Charlotte looking for tarnish.”

“So what? I've been seen with Liza? And?”

“You're still naïve. It used to be cute. Scandal is going to get people interested in the election, and the side that underhandedly throws the most dirt is going to win. That's not going to be us—because you think that's wrong. You think Robert Montgomery isn't going to bring up your personal life tonight? I bet you invited her, didn't you?”

“I did.”

“Dumb. She can't be your girlfriend now. She can't even be your friend.”

“What does that have to do with the election?”

“Everything. You're forgetting that there are conservative Democrats as well. Your relationship with Liza is going to ruin everything.”

“Is this about the South Park Madam rumors? She came out and said—”

“Who believes the pimp?” Teresa asked. “Look, Jackson, I'm not just being a hard-ass. I believe in you. I want you to win. But you're not making this easy for us.”