Squeezing his hand, I didn’t bother to jump away from him when the doors slid open again and someone else stepped in near us, because we weren’t hiding, and being free to touch another man in public—hell, here in city hall—was incredibly freeing as well.
The doors opened on Ross’s floor. He had the biggest office in the building, directly above mine, and Mark was scurrying around with folders tucked under both arms, so he was obviously in a predicament as he reached his desk and didn’t have a third hand to help unload them all. He frowned sadly and had the slow-eyed look of someone who hadn’t taken enough caffeine on board yet.
Laughing, Jaxson bolted forward to the rescue. I watched a flustered Mark thank Jaxson more times than was necessary, and allowed myself to chuckle at the way Jaxson kept telling him not to worry about it with every folder he grabbed from under an arm that Mark held near his body like an awkward duck wing, both as forceful as the other in their attempt to be polite. I left them to their anxious manners dance.
“Bye,” I called as the doors slid shut. Jaxson couldn’t turn to wave because he was too busy piling folders onto the reception desk.
Back on my own floor, I stepped into what I could only call organized chaos. Jean-Paul sat primly on the edge of his desk, his suit an unusual taupe today, with a vibrant purple ascot tie I didn’t think I’d ever seen before tucked at his neck. He didn’t resemble anything as much as an English country lord from one of those shows Jaxson secretly liked to watch when he thought I was in the shower. He had one leg crossed over the other, knee bouncing, and on the floor, Kalinksi was in the middle of piles and piles of papers.
“What’s all this?”
Jean-Paul gave me the most self-satisfied smirk I’d seen in a while as he saluted me with his coffee mug. “We owed a few favors around the building.” His smile only grew as Kalinski glared up at him from his spot on the floor where he sat collecting together stacks of paper to make booklets. His deep brown eyes practically sparked hatred. Once he had the pile together, he used a cranky old stapler on it, and then folded everything down the middle. I was certain we had a very nice industrial stapler somewhere but didn’t see it out.
“What are those?”
“Information booklets on lead paint in rental buildings. The Housing Authority has to mail out about four thousand of them.” Jean-Paul sipped his coffee and looked down his nose at Kalinski like he was a bug. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my assistant was seriously enjoying the way Kalinski occasionally cut furious glares at him from out of the corner of his eye.
“Always good to help out. That doesn’t look like enough for four thousand?” I came closer, and Kalinski’s hand shot out as if to protect his piles, but he didn’t say a word to me.
“Oh, no. It’ll take weeks. Maybe even all month. Won’t it, Maxwell?”
“It’ll take as long as it takes, sir,” Kalinski growled through his teeth.
“There are two of us,” Jean-Paul snapped, the coldness in his tone surprising me.
“Sirs,” Kalinski said, but he looked like he’d rather swallow poisoned, live, wriggling worms than correct himself.
Jean-Paul hopped off his desk, and Kalinski threw his hands into the air and then slapped his thighs with them in clear frustration as several of his piles scattered. Jean-Paul danced between them to follow me the short distance to my office door, a radiant grin on his face that I fired a wink back at. He wasn’t déclassé enough to laugh out loud, but he did grin into his coffee cup.
“The mayor is inside,” he said and reached out to open my door for me, like he was the model on a game show. He glanced back toward Kalinski on the floor and some color rose in his cheeks.
“He’s a shithead from a rich family,” I muttered. “The worst kind of fucking asshole.”
“Oh, I am exceptionally aware of his background.”
“Have fun,” I said on a laugh as I went into my office, but he only lifted an eyebrow as he closed my door after me.
“You’re officially back in my good graces, forever,” Ross said and strode toward me from where he’d been staring out one of the windows, a piece of paper in his hand, which he flapped around and then presented to me with both hands when he was close enough. He was acting like the letter was printed on gold leaf—really, it was just a nice, heavy cream-colored paper. I ran my fingertips over the raised type as I started to read. I only got as far as the New York State Senate before Ross was shaking my arm and grinning from ear to ear.
“What—”
“It’s an invitation for you to speak about being gay and in politics at a forum in the state capital. The senate wants some input on several pieces of legislation they’re crafting. Vane, this is the sort of thing we could spin into a congressional campaign.”
“But… really?” I scanned down the letter and he seemed to be right. I glanced up at him. “I’m about the worst person to give advice on legislation. I know how reporters work, not the law.”
“Fuck it, who cares? Your story with Jaxson hit national news. People were up in arms over it. You’ve been pure class after that thing with Roberts. I mean, you broke his fucking phone, but you paid for it, paid out the ass, I might add, and no one seems to really blame you.”
Glancing down at the paper in my hand, I ran my fingers across the heavy weight of it again. “Wow.”
Ross looked more like a kid than a mayor as he danced around in place doing a victory shuffle. “You could take Jaxson with you. We’ll all go. Hell, we’ll bring Mark and Jean-Paul too. Make a week of it.”
“Jean-Paul’s entire year might be made if you bring Kalinski,” I muttered, but didn’t think he heard me. JP seemed to be having more fun with his assignment to torture our newest employee into quitting than I’d ever had in my whole life.
Ross waltzed over and collapsed into one of the leather chairs in front of my desk, mumbling something that sounded a lot like “thank fuck” as he cupped his hands over his face and closed his eyes. I also had a sense that this was the final piece of forgiveness for our latest blunder in the public eye, a negative that could have been a career-ender, somehow transformed into a positive.
“Does this mean you’ll be coming out now? It’s a half-decent feeling, being able to walk around with Jaxson.”
“Hell no. Are you crazy? Why would I do that?” His eyes widened, and I might as well have taken a shit on the carpet.
