Rumor Has It (6 page)

Chapter 7

The day of Robert's rally for the homeless event, Liza found herself stuck on the phone with Claude. She was beginning to hate this man and his drama. But because she loved the paycheck she got from dealing with his drama, she did her job.

“I don't want to get married,” he whined. “I don't want to have a baby, either. I told her that I'd pay for the abortion and everything else if . . .”

“Have you ever heard of a long engagement? Listen, Claude, you can't have this girl selling the story to the media that you wanted her to have an abortion. You made your bed, so sleep in it.”

“But you said . . .”

“Claude, I'm trying to keep your reputation intact. I'm pretty sure after she sees that you're dragging your feet on the marriage, she's going to get tired of the relationship and dump you. Then she looks like the bad guy.” Liza stroked her forehead, she really did hate leading him to mislead his child's mother. But the NBA had a bad enough reputation and Claude was every stereotype that she wished to fight against. Maybe that was why she rode Claude so hard.
I am not his mama
, she told herself as he droned on in her ear.

“Claude, stop,” she finally said as she glanced at her watch. “I was wrong for trying to force you to be responsible, when it's obvious that isn't what you want. Marry her or don't, but you'd better do right by that child or I'll go to TMZ my damned self.”

“Liza, I thought you were on my side.”

“I don't know if
I can
be on your side anymore,” she said.
Money be damned
.

“Are you dropping me because I don't want to be tied down to some—”

“You just aren't someone I want to represent. I could see if you were unable to care for a child, but you simply don't want to. Maybe you should've thought about that before you . . . Look. You need a new publicist, I quit.” Liza ended the call, rose from her desk, and shook her head. She was now twenty minutes late for the event. She grabbed her purse and tossed her phone inside, then dashed out the door. Driving to the shelter, Liza hoped for a great turnout because the last polls that she saw had Jackson with a one-point lead over Robert. He'd been doing a number of media interviews and impressing a lot of people. Hell, Liza was impressed as well, but she'd never admit it publicly. Her alliance was with Robert. He deserved this seat because he'd been prepping for it his entire life.

Jackson, in her opinion, was a cause-of-the-moment candidate. Sure, he was hitting the hot topics, but did he have what it really took to be in it for the long haul? What if he got bored? The new district deserved better. Robert had been studying politics for years. He sat on the right local boards and, in Liza's opinion, this seat had his name written all over it.

Once she arrived at the shelter, things were in full swing. Cameras were everywhere and Chante was by Robert's side with a bright smile on her face.
They look so good together,
Liza thought as she headed toward them.

“You're late,” Nic said, grabbing her arm before she reached her friends. “I thought you were going to help me coordinate the media arrivals and interviews?”

“Nic, I have a job, you know? Clients who pay me.”

“As I recall, you volunteered to do this. You're supposed to be here for your friend.”

She glanced at Nic's hand but stopped herself from pushing it away and making a scene. “Look and listen, Nic. I've had Robert's back for longer than you've known him. So, don't you ever question my loyalty to him! Now, if you're done, I'm going to greet my friends.”

He dropped his hand and nodded as Liza strode away. She fumed but pasted a smile on her face as she hugged Robert and Chante.

“Where have you been?” Chante asked. “You missed the excitement.”

“What excitement?” she asked, immediately going into crisis mode.

Chante tapped her shoulder. “Nothing bad, but a lot of excited people ready to elect Robert as their next senator. We registered a lot of voters and . . .” Chante held up her left hand. The diamond engagement ring on her finger sparkled in the sun. “Robert asked me to marry him.”

Liza squealed and hugged her best friend, then punched Robert on the shoulder. “You sly dog,” she teased.

“Hey,” he said, “where's my hug and congratulations? I get punched. What kind of sense does that make?” Liza hugged him tightly.

“Congratulations. You two are going to be so happy,” she said.

“I know,” Robert said when he and Liza parted. He took Chante's hand in his and kissed it. The beaming smile on Chante's face warmed Liza's heart and she pushed her thoughts of the engagement being a political stunt deep down.
Robert wouldn't do that. Maybe love at first sight really does exist.

“Hey, Robert,” Nic called out as he rushed over to him. “Senator Patrick is here.”

“Senator Patrick?” Nic nodded and pushed Robert in the direction of the retired and revered senator. Liza and Chante just smiled and waited for the men to leave so that they could dish.

“How did he ask you to marry him? Was it romantic?”

Chante smiled and stroked her ring. “We were unloading the donations that I'd gotten from the office of business clothes for the women and he pointed to this box on the floor. He said, ‘Babe, you dropped something.'”

Cornball
, Liza thought while smiling.

“I picked it up and I'm thinking someone messed up. Rob was like, open it. And there was this ring. Then he got down on one knee and said, ‘Marry me.'”

“Were there cameras around?”

Chante slapped her hand on her hip. “No, Liza! Everything is not a media event.”

Liza threw her hands up. “I was just asking.”

“I wonder about you sometimes.” Chante raised her eyebrow at her friend, then smiled.

“I'm a sucker for whirlwind romances,” Liza said. “You have to let me throw you two an engagement party.”

“Something small with no cameras or Twitter updates?”

“Of course. I'm sorry I missed it, but I was stuck on the phone with Claude. I had to drop him as a client today.”

“Really? Why? I thought he was a profitable client.”

Liza sighed and then explained her problem with him. “I couldn't create this fairy tale for him when he didn't really want to be with that woman.”

“I can't believe you'd even considered it.”

“I couldn't have him getting a reputation as the guy who told his woman to get an abortion. How would the child feel when he or she does a Google search and finds that out?”

Chante sighed. “At least your heart was in the right place. There'll be other clients, maybe ones who aren't slimy bastards.”

Liza nodded toward Robert. “I think he needs you.”

“He needs us,” Chante said as she linked arms with her sorority sister and started in his direction.

The event turned out to be a success for Robert and led all of the evening newscasts. A few of the local blogs had written glowing stories about Robert, and when the
Raleigh News and Observer
's political columnist called Robert while the trio was at Hometown Delights having drinks, Liza knew the tide was turning in her candidate's favor.

“This is awesome,” Liza said. “And I know you don't want to talk about it, but you have to show people your personality and your history.”

Chante glanced at him. “She's right.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “I don't know why you two think I have to tell a sad-sack story to gain voters.”

“Robert,” Liza began, “people need to connect with you. They're connecting with Jackson.”

At the sound of his opponent's name, Robert huffed. “He doesn't know a thing about politics and I'm getting sick and tired of you comparing me to him.”

“Guys,” Chante said. “Let's not do this. If Robert wants to leave the past in the past, then that's fine. Let's focus on who you are now.”

Liza rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine. Then a lightbulb went off in her head. Why wouldn't they focus on the person Robert is? People were just as attracted to confidence as they were to heroes.

“Robert, you're right,” Liza said with a smile. “You should show people who you really are. Successful, in love, ready to seve.”

He gave Liza a high five. “Now you're getting it.”

“Guys,” Chante said. “Can we table politics and talk about my engagement?”

Robert leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Of course, babe.”

“That's my cue to give you two some alone time,” Liza said as she drained her wineglass. “I have to go check Google alerts anyway.”

“Why don't you take a break,” Chante said. “You don't have to be the twenty-four-hour woman.”

“She needs a man,” Robert said, then poked his tongue out at Liza.

“Whatever, Bob! I'm doing just fine without one.” She winked at him and Chante. “Besides, all the good ones are taken.” Liza waved to her friends as she headed for the exit.

 

 

After leaving the restaurant, Liza headed for Amelie's, her unofficial satellite office. She loved the nighttime crowd at the bakery and she loved the silence. Taking a seat across from the community bulletin board, she was about to pull out her iPad when a sign caught her eye. The Jackson Franklin campaign was seeking volunteers. Setting her tablet on the table, Liza crossed over to the board and grabbed the flyer. Reading over it, she shook her head. “Stealing Obama's thunder much?” she mumbled as she read the words “yes, we can.”

Though she didn't want to admit it, the flyer would appeal to the people who hung out at Amelie's. Jackson seemed to know his audience, leading her to wonder who was on his team. There was no way this soldier was doing this alone. She tucked the flyer in her pocket and returned to her work. She needed to talk to Nic about this man because Jackson Franklin was more of a threat than they'd initially thought. Liza pulled the flyer from her pocket and studied it intently—more accurately, stared at Jackson's handsome face.

Jackson knew a salted caramel brownie at ten P.M. was a bad idea. Still, he had a sweet tooth and he'd been doing interviews all day in Raleigh and Fay-etteville. He had to admit that being back at Fort Bragg was more than a campaign stop. It was like being home again. Seeing his former platoon members and their advancements and everything made him happy, but he was sad that he'd lost his chance to continue to serve his country. That's why he had to make sure the warriors who returned home didn't have to battle for help. North Carolina of all states should've been on the front line to take care of the soldiers.

Jackson rubbed his forehead and sighed as the line slowly moved forward. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Liza looking over one of his flyers. Suddenly, his need for the brownie didn't seem that strong. He stepped out of line and crossed over to Liza.

“Can I count on you to volunteer?” he asked. Her head snapped up and he heard her gasp.

“I-I . . . Hello, Mr. Franklin.”

“Liza, right?”

She nodded and extended her hand. “Why don't you drop out?”

“That's a wonderful greeting,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk.

“Mr. Franklin,” she said, tilting her head to the side, “Robert Montgomer y is an awesome man. He will represent this district and even get some of the things you're campaigning for passed.”

“Funny,” Jackson said as he dropped her hand. “I haven't heard much substance come from Mr. Montgomer y's campaign.”

“Maybe you haven't been listening, or you can only hear the words coming from your camp.”

The way she poked her lips out and rolled her eyes should've been a turnoff, but there was no way to deny the tightening between his legs would become a full-grown erection if he kept looking at her full lips.

“Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?” he asked, all the while wondering what in the hell he was thinking. He knew that she was in Montgomer y's camp. But, damn, she was fine as frog's hair.

“No, thank you. I have some work to do and I'm more of a tea person.”

“Last I heard, they serve tea here as well,” Jackson said.

“Do you think I'm supposed to allow you to buy me tea and then I'll spill secrets about Robert and give you the upper hand? I don't think so.”

“I don't want to talk about politics. I just offered to buy a pretty lady tea,” he said, then nodded at her. “Have a good night, Liza.”

As he walked away, he didn't hear her sigh. Jackson grabbed his place in line and decided that he would have the brownie after all.

 

 

Liza hadn't realized that she was weak at the knees until she started walking toward her table and stumbled over nothing, then eased into her seat. What was it about that man that caused her to lose her mind? From hearing his voice to seeing his face, he made her weak.

“He's the enemy,” she warned herself. A tea person? Ha! Liza inhaled coffee, probably needed an IV drip of java. And she turned down free coffee?

Sighing, she tried to return to her work. But she kept stealing glances at Jackson, who stood in line ordering a pastry or something. She wondered what his sweet weakness was. Was he a brownie guy or an éclair dude?
Why do I care?
she questioned as she tore her eyes away from his backside. Maybe after the election she and Jackson could be friends. Maybe.

As she watched him walk out the door with his small box in his hand, the thoughts that danced in her head were far from friendly. They were downright lustful. “Go get some coffee,” she mumbled as she gathered her things and headed for the register. Slipping her earbuds in her ears and listening to the latest podcast from Demetria Lucas, she wasn't paying attention when Jackson walked back into the bakery and right into her path. Crashing into his hard chest, Liza thought she was going to fall, but his big, hot hands broke her fall. He pressed her against him. And she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against hers.