“Fuck.” I threw my towel on the floor and stared at it, my mind already speeding a mile a minute. We’d need to arrange a slew of publicized trainings for the police stations around the city, and that might not even be enough to appease voters before the next election. “This is about as bad as it could fucking get. Couldn’t he have been a monster after the election?”
Ross laughed, but it sounded bitter and tired. “Yep.” He sighed. “Can you get the crew together?”
“What are we even doing?”
“Oh, you know. Expressing our sympathy for the girls and their families, pursuing justice.”
“Making sure this asshole gets fired and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law?” I ground my teeth. The motherfucker. “Who was it? I’m going to go brick his face. Talk about making our fucking jobs more difficult.”
“The DA already blew up my phone. She’s planning to destroy him.” Ross’s tone waxed smug, and I nodded to myself. We could make this happen.
“We just need to be supportive of the DA, but keep the cops on our side?”
Ross laughed. “Yes, is that possible?”
Sighing, I swiped more sweat off my forehead. “Who fucking knows? We’ll make it possible.”
Ross snickered. “That’s why I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I didn’t say goodbye, just hung up on him. This was so disgusting and seedy. I was glad Ross wanted to hang this asshole out to dry and not try to protect him. I could barely stomach it when the dirty cops got a pass because the police union had been raising hell about one thing or another and we didn’t feel like we could take them on. This would be something they’d just have to eat. Those cops would cooperate, or I’d march into every station myself to smack sense into them. Or I’d send Jean-Paul. He was scarier.
I called Jean-Paul to get him on his way here because any media response we mounted would require his delicately persuasive touch. As soon as I hung up on him, my thumb hovered over Jaxson’s number. My first instinct had been to bring him in, too, because there was always a ton of work to do when something like this exploded, but on the other hand, he’d already had a long week. And to be honest, the last time I’d fucked him, he’d looked up at me as we showered and smiled… and just looked so sweet and innocent. I didn’t really want him involved in this sordid mess.
In my mind’s eye, I could see Jaxson, his belly poking out of the front of his shirt, exhausted on the new couch I’d sent over. He would have his feet up, maybe munching on grapes. I knew only part of that equation was likely true: he might be lounging on the couch. I really wanted him to have a relaxing weekend, and this would be anything but. Instead of calling, I sent him a quick text telling him I wouldn’t be able to make it until this evening, and then sprinted for the doorway. I had to ditch my sweaty clothes, shower, and get my ass in gear to get the media organized.
The afternoon was a hellscape of reporters. We corralled the microphoned demons in the large reception room on the first floor of city hall. It was a stately room with antique white plaster molding and old-world hardwood paneling designed to give off an air of importance and statesmanship. We tried to make the room nice, bringing in chairs and moving in a podium with the New Gothenburg city seal on the front for Midberry.
I might as well have held the press conference in a graffiti-covered back alley.
The media was absolutely vicious when it came to questioning Ross, and I had to step in more than once to remind them that city hall was doing all it could to get to the bottom of this mess. Every time I butted in, it gave Ross a few seconds to get himself together, because I could tell he was ready to start swearing at some of the more rabid reporters. The media circus was almost over when I noticed Jaxson standing with Jean-Paul and Mark at the back of the room, glaring at me. My stomach flipped when he met my gaze. He looked fantastic in a black suit and yellow shirt that brought out the golden undertones in his skin, even from this far away.
“Thank you. Any further questions can be directed to the deputy mayor.” I jerked around to face the podium and tried to glare at Ross without allowing it to look like that’s what I was doing as I slid behind the podium at the front of the room like this had been the plan all along. The bastard escaped through a door behind me that hid a private staircase that led upstairs. No one could follow him. Dead-eyed info zombies stared back at me, or at least that’s what I felt like, because they were waiting to eat me alive. I glanced over their heads toward Jaxson and used his calm presence beside Jean-Paul to steady myself.
Smiling, I stepped up to the podium and planted my hands firmly on the sides, anchoring myself in place. “Please, resume your questions. I’m sorry, the mayor must see to these issues in person. I hope you understand. Time is of the utmost importance in these situations.”
I stood there sweating through another half hour of questions, where I repeated in different ways the same things over and over again, and then finally called a halt to things. The reporters weren’t happy to be wrangled out of the room, but Jean-Paul, Mark, and Jaxson were able to cajole and charm everyone clear of the conference hall. They handed out a statement from the mayor outlining the training programs that would be instituted at all of the police departments in the next week, for all the fucking good they would do. Sometimes I wondered why no one simply stood up and accused us of slapping a Band-Aid on a hemorrhage. It would have been true. When the last reporter was gone, it was almost too quiet. I slumped forward and allowed myself to rest my forehead on my fist on the podium, taking deep breaths.
God this was rough. Could I really do it for another four years? The sounds of scraping and metal slamming had me popping upright again.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I stepped down to the floor and dodged chairs to walk across the trash-littered room to meet Jaxson. Jean-Paul swiped his auburn hair off his forehead and gave me a sympathetic smile as he snagged Mark, who gave him a confused frown, and slipped out of the door with him in tow.
“Why wasn’t I told to be here to begin with? Jean-Paul texted me to tell me to bring down the chairs from storage on the fourth floor because he thought I was here, but guess what? No one told me to come in.” Jaxson’s eyes practically shot sparks at me. He was definitely not my demure little belly boy right now, and I tensed for a fight. The reporters had cranked my dial to ten, and even though he probably didn’t deserve it, I was close to snapping already.
“I thought you might want torelaxtoday. I was being nice.” I didn’t bother to tell him that was rare, because if he wasn’t stupid, he already knew that entire weekends at rest didn’t happen often in our business.
His neck bloomed red from under his collar, and the color took over his cheeks and forehead, putting in my mind his sweet flush right before he came. Hell, I couldn’t even fight with him right. All I wanted to do was fuck him.
“I’mhereto be involved.” Violently, he jabbed a finger at the floor, like maybe he would have preferred to stick it in my eye but aborted mission. “I’m here because I want the experience. Politics is my life, andpoliticsis what I’m here for. I’m here for thejob.”
Anger zipped through me. As if I needed the fucking reminder that the only reason he was doing anything at all with me was because of my connections. I’d been an idiot, reading too much into how he’d brought my fantasies to life. I should have known better. “You only want this to be about sex? You want to be here instead of resting at home with your feet up? Fine, then do the shit work, if that’s what you want. I want this room spotless.” I roared that last word right into his face.
He flinched and hurt flashed through his eyes. “You’re serious?”
I shrugged. “You don’t want me to be nice? Fine, I won’t be. I’ll treat you like everyone else. Clean this up.”
I strode out of the room, and something bounced off the door as I slammed it behind myself. Irritation carried me as far as my office, but then I felt like an asshole. I got where he was coming from, sort of, though I still thought he was being ridiculous, and instead of just acknowledging his position in our argument, I had acted like his ideas didn’t matter. But all I’d wanted to do today was give him a chance to have a break.
