She shrugs—practiced. “He needs a First Lady. His poll numbers would be helped by a romance and wedding. I wouldn’t mind being that person.”
Wow. This is ballsy, even for her.
Still, I follow Leo’s guidance and don’t give anything away, not with a gesture or a facial expression. “Even if he’s not in the market for a First Lady right now? He’s focused on his work.” And his poll numbers damned sure don’t need any help.
“I would be beneficial for him. We’ve known each other for years. Plus, I’m a Republican, and he’s a Democrat. That means I can help convince even more people to vote for him. We’d look good together on camera. DC’s new power couple. A modern-day Camelot.”
Somehow, I stifle the shudder that tries to wash through me. “What are you asking of me?”
“I’m asking you to help him win the presidency.”
I hear the unspokenor. Instead of asking again, I watch and wait for her to continue.
She finally does. “There are people Stella works for and with, people I’m also closely acquainted with, shall we say, who’d happily knock the vice president out of the running in any number of ways. Including ways that would effectively ruin the rest of his life. Some of those people are offering me very enticing…incentivesto help them do just that.”
Stirring my drink with my toothpick of olives, mirroring her actions, buys me a few seconds to calculate. I pivot to playing an unexperienced nice guy. “You have me confused. What are their plans? And how would you marrying the vice president fit into those plans?”
“They want him controllable. They don’t think he is right now, so they’re willing to remove him from the equation. I would benefit either way. Now, I would prefernotto hurt my best friend or her brother. I’ll even sign a pre-nup saying that once Elliot’s out of office, we’ll quietly divorce. Politics takes a heavy toll on yet another personal relationship, yadda-yadda. Complete with an NDA and an agreement that I won’t write a tell-all book, or give any interviews that disparage him, or reveal personal details. We can even have separate bedrooms.” She smiles. “Unless he wants to share a bed with me. I’ve always thought he was hot. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
White hot jealousy flares inside me, but I calmly settle back against the couch. “Why are you approaching me, Grace? What do you want fromme? Or, should I ask, what’sinit for me? And how do I know that you aren’t trying to entrap me?” I glance around like I’m looking for a camera.
She smiles and I see more than a hint of greedy eagerness there. She’s assuming that, since I haven’t stormed off in outrage, I’m open to listening. “Even if it would help me, I’m not stupid enough to collect evidence that could entrapme. These areverypowerful people I’m talking about, Jordan. They’re the one-percent of the one-percent. They’ll get their way, one way or another. They’re not sitting through another eight years of a liberal POTUS and being shut out of the process the way they have. They wanttheirguy in the White House, because they already know they’ve lost the House and the Senate this time around, and probably the next election cycle, as well.”
“Again, what do you want fromme?”
“Well, let’s be honest—this isyourfault.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “Myfault?”
Da fuq?
“Yes.” She cocks her head at me. “My friends wanted to talk to him. You said you’d talk to Elliot for me. They only wanted his ear, that’s all. A few things here and there. Now?” She shrugs. “They areveryunhappy that they aren’t able to talk to him. Meaning I need to resort to drastic actions.”
“Doesn’t that put you at odds with them, if you’re First Lady?”
“No, because then they come to me.I’mthe power broker. That’s something I’d love to rub their faces in. Elliot’s from a conservative family from a conservative part of the country. I can make this work. I’m going to marry him, and it’s what’s best for him in the long run. He’ll get to be POTUS, I get to be a power broker, those friends of mine get a say in how they want things run, and we’re all happy.”
I see she’s still trying to play both ends against the middle. That’s been her modus operandi and a hallmark of her career.
She arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow at me. “You’d especially be happy, because you will become a golden child for all my friends. Not all of them are conservative, either. Some of these friends, shockingly enough, are liberals. It’s a…” The tip of her tongue flicks out and moistens her lips. “It’s like afamily. You’ve heard ofthem, haven’t you? You’ve been around DC long enough I would expect you have.”
I study her as I slowly nod. “I know who they are. How, exactly, do you plan to make this happen? Get him to marry you? What would I have to do?”
“I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t, I’ll start talking to reporters and say that he raped me one night at his campaign office in Omaha, back when he was still in the House. That it’s really why he endorsed me when I ran, to keep me quiet.” She’s watching me as she takes a sip of her martini.
It’s only with the gravitational force approaching black-hole levels that keeps my expression neutral. “Saywhat?”
“I’ll say I went to talk to him about something after-hours. No one around. You ever see that old office of his? When he wasn’t in DC, he used to live in an empty office in the back of his headquarters in Nebraska. Which is tacky, for starters. Not to mention backward from what some reps do, sleeping in their offices in DC. But I’ll tell the press that he invited me to come talk, we were alone, and…well, things happened.
“Oh, I’ll say that he was drunk, and he apologized immediately after and begged me not to go to the police, but his reputation will becompletelyand irrevocably destroyed. There will be no rehabbing his political career. He’ll be lucky if authorities in Omaha don’t press charges, even if I refuse to cooperate with the investigation and ask them to drop it.”
Another of those jagged-glass smiles. “My word against his. #MeToo, you know. If he doesn’t want to find himself alone on election night, he’d better agree. It’s too late for the party to nominate someone else and get them on the ballot.”
She’s right about that. I tamp down my rage because, as Leo’s drummed into me, anger makes you stupid and weak in a crisis. “Stella’s your best friend. You’ve known Elliot for years.”
“Iknow, right?” Evil completely infuses her smile with a terrifyingly sick, sharp edge. “Gives me an extra level of veracity, doesn’t it? That I’ve known them for so long. Makes sense Elliot would let me, of all people, into his office at night, alone. Also explains why I’d put myself into that situation to start with. Because I trusted him. Anyone who knows him knows he’s in damned good physical shape. He’s larger than me. Why, a woman such as myself doesn’t stand much of a chance. And…” She sighs. “My best friend will testify that I contemporaneously told her what happened. Why on earth would his own sister lie about something sodamning?”
She’s absolutely right on all counts. This woman truly is fucking evil. I’m so stunned I can’t even make myself correct her about using his name.
