“Yes, ma’am.”
“You arenotacting like a man who’s all right. The detail’s chill but you’re not. What’s going on?”
I know she won’t let up until I tell her, so I cut to the chase. “Jordan’s going to see a band at a club tonight.Alone. I’m afraid he’s not taking his personal security seriously because he was talking about walking there from his hotel. I couldn’t talk him into taking a cab. He’s not understanding DC isn’t like Tallahassee.”
“That’sfor sure. Where’s the concert?”
“A club near Columbia Heights.”
“Oh,hell, no,” Kev mutters from right next to me. I hadn’t even realized he’d moved in to see what was going on.
“Go get the kid,” she tells me as she sits back, then smirks. “And spank him for being a dumbass.”
I glance around. Where Elliot’s sitting, his back is to us, plus he looks like he’s deep in conversation with a woman at his table who has two kids sitting on either side of her. “What about tonight?”
She tips her head toward Elliot’s table before leaning in again and talking behind her hand. “Ifhe’stoo chickenshit to be out with you, that’s no reason you should be alone. Go get your boy. It’s adorable how you glare at any guy who so much as talks to Jordan. Besides, it’s fucking damp and cold outside. He’s going to catch pneumonia.”
Oh, shit.I didn’t realize how obvious I was being over him. Now it makes me wonder who else might have noticed.
“He’s not really mine,” I say, because I’m still caught off-guard by her even noticing. Yet it shouldn’t surprise me, since the three of them obviously wanted me to be “distracted” by Jordan in the first place.
“Whatever. Yours or not, the kid’s going to get himself hurt, or sick, at the very least. Please go do what you do best and keep him safe. Take the rest of the night off. You’ve earned it.”
Shae also doesn’t have to tell me twice. “Thank you, ma’am.” I’m not worried about not saying good-bye to Elliot, because he was supposed to ride home with two staffers from his House office, to go over some items ahead of Monday. I’m not going to interrupt him and then have him stressing over the situation, or that I’m with Jordan. I’ll text him later.
I turn and wait to break into a jog until I’m out of the room. I retrieve my coat from where one of the campaign aides is watching our things and pull it on as I jog down the back service hallway, so I can make my way outside and grab a cab.
Jordan’s hotel isn’t far from where tonight’s event is being held. I call his personal cell, thinking I can catch him en route, but he doesn’t answer. I don’t leave a message.
Unfortunately, when I arrive at the hotel and have the front desk call his room…
Well, fucking ofcoursehe’s already left. My anxiety ratchets up another level, and now Special Agent Cruz is at war with Leo and Sir, with the psychologist smuglytskingat me the whole time.
What thehellam I doing?
I love Elliot. But something about Jordan…
Part of the problem lies in what I feel for Jordan feels nearly identical to what I felt for Elliot when I first met him. That instantaneous bolt from the blue. That certainty of sublime perfection.
Like he’s myhome.
It’s only gotten stronger the more time I spend alone with him. Last night cemented it for me.
The only two people I’ve ever felt like that about are Elliot and now Jordan.
Maybe this is the event that forcesmeto make a decision I’ve been able to dodge for years by waiting on Elliot.
Maybe Jordan’s the man who makes either me or Elliot finally face the decision once and for all.
As I race across the lobby, I pull out my personal phone and Google the club’s address. I need a cab. Fortunately, mine is still sitting there. I jump in, give the driver the address, and we head out.
When I call Jordan’s personal cell again, it goes to voicemail after several rings. Not like he sent it to voicemail, but like it’s not being answered. I call his work phone and the same thing happens. I told him if he’s out, he should keep his work phone on him, too.
Meaning he’s probably at the club already and can’t hear his phones ringing…
Or he’s already dead in a Dumpster somewhere.
Shit.
