Bishop (Political Royalty Book 3) (12 page)

“Everything’s fine now,” he said, parsing out bits of the truth. “Good as new.” He motioned to his chest in a move designed to illustrate his fitness to serve.

“Why don’t you start with why you were found outside a bar in Tucson trying to kill a frat boy while the Walker campaign was stationed two hours away in Phoenix?”

He sucked in an audible breath, and her expression shifted from pleasantly neutral to something almost predatory.

“I realize the charges were dropped,” she said, her eyes shining with interest.
Her skills were wasted behind a desk. She really ought to be out in the field.
“But the initial report still exists. So explain to me what you were doing and why your sister is now working for the Walker campaign.”

“It was self-defense. He went after me first.” It irked him to give the bastard even that much energy, but there was no way he could tell Jen the real reason he’d gone after the guy.

“What were you doing there in the first place?”

The look on her face showed she didn’t believe him, but rather than push at the lie, she dug deeper. He knew the technique. Hell, he used the technique all the time. Push the subject to respond, and then rather than argue about whatever they said, just keep asking questions until they had enough rope to hang themselves with. He wasn’t about to take the rope.

“I swung by to pick up some things for Becca.” Plausible and she couldn’t disprove his motivation.

“I thought your sister stayed with the campaign while you went wandering halfway across the state.”

“She did,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m a good brother.”

Shifting in her chair, she leaned forward, forcing him to meet her gaze or look guilty if he didn’t.

“Why was your sister with the campaign in the first place?”

“I picked her up when we swung past ASU. She was on spring break. Is there something you’re accusing me of? Because I’ve done my job.” It was his turn to lean forward. She wasn’t going to let it drop, and he wasn’t going to tell her anything he didn’t want to. A good offense seemed like his best shot. “Hell, I’ve gone beyond my job. No one else has gotten close to the kind of access I’ve had with the Walker family. Last I heard, my contract didn’t require my twenty-four-hour devotion, even though you’ve come damn close to getting it.”

“Easy,” she said, softening her tone a fraction but not backing down. “I’m just trying to understand why my reporter ended up in the hospital and how his sister ended up working on the campaign he’s supposed to be covering.”

“Some asshole attacked me.” He paused, giving his words a little extra emphasis. “And the Walker campaign needed a tech liaison person. It also happens to be the focus of my sister’s degree. It’s a perfect situation for both of them.”

It was. Becca had been crazy excited to have something tangible to do and her faculty advisor loved the idea of her getting some practical experience. It hadn’t been hard for his sister to convince her advisor to shift her schedule around for the rest of the semester. And it kept her off campus and away from the fucking frat house. Matt couldn’t be anything but grateful for how it worked out. Regardless of what it cost him personally.

Jen pinned him with her gaze and he had to concentrate on not squirming. Righteous indignation only worked if he managed to avoid looking guilty. She finally shook her head and he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“What am I supposed to do about one of my reporters covering a campaign his family member works on? Tell me you don’t see a conflict of interest.”

“I don’t.” This one was easy. If things kept going the way they’d been, Becca would be off in the field working with Walker operatives and he’d hardly ever see her. The fact that she worked for the campaign was incidental. “She’s not a spokesperson or a policy person. My sister is helping Walker’s people get along with their computers. And after the election, if you decide you want an in-depth story on the state of modern campaigns and the way they use social media contacts and the possible privacy implications, I’ve got an in to get an up-close and unfiltered inside look.”

It helped that he’d already been looking at that angle for a story. When Becca talked to him about the database program the campaign created, he’d been simultaneously impressed and a little horrified. He’d had no problem seeing the benefit to the campaign but the Big Brother aspect creeped him out. Jen watched him for a moment longer. He could tell she was interested. She’d flipped for the exclusive he’d gotten with the Walkers’ girls.

“Be careful,” she said. “You lose credibility—we lose credibility—if it looks like you’re playing favorites because of a family connection. What about Walker himself? Everything okay between him and Mrs. Walker?”

Matt inhaled, his nostrils widening as he remembered the blurry photo stored on his phone. From Jen’s expression, she’d like nothing better than to go from printing a special interest piece on the senator’s children to printing an expose on their father’s sexual indiscretions. The idea left a bad taste in his mouth. Thankfully, for now at least, it didn’t matter. He didn’t have any proof that Walker had sex with anyone other than his wife. And if their relationship seemed cool to the point of icy sometimes, it didn’t prove anything about Walker’s fidelity.

“How the hell would I know? Mrs. Walker’s been on the trail more. They’re pushing the family values thing pretty hard in response to Estevan and Collins.”

Jen snorted. He didn’t have to ask what his editor thought of the whack-job publisher.

“I still can’t believe she engaged with that crazy fuck. He’d be gone by now if she hadn’t given his campaign fresh air.”

“Still think she’s going to win?” Matt asked, genuinely curious. His future depended on Walker’s campaign and his ability to cover it. His extended future looked a hell of a lot more interesting if Walker won first the nomination and then the election in November.

Jen hesitated long enough for Matt to know she’d lost some of her certainty. “Probably, but the family values thing certainly muddied the field.”

“Did you need anything else from me?” If Jen was winding down, Matt figured he’d better get out while the scale still tipped in his favor.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she said, holding his gaze for a moment longer before turning her chair back to the laptop open on her desk. “Get out of here.” She made a shooing motion with her hand without bothering to watch him exit her office.

His steps on the short walk from the Metro station to his crappy apartment on Queen had a hell of a lot more spring than they had when he left in the morning. There was a lot to be said for maintaining the status quo. He’d spend the afternoon doing laundry, spend the night doing one of his regular booty calls, and be back on the campaign by lunch the next day. Perfect plan. Despite all the crap he’d dealt with the last two weeks, he felt surprisingly optimistic.

Turning the corner, he saw the sleek black town car parked in front of his building. He had just enough time to wonder what a car like that was doing in a neighborhood like his when the uniformed driver got out and hurried around to the passenger side. Matt froze mid-step as the driver opened the door. A gorgeous pair of legs wearing impossibly high red-soled heels exited the car and Sandra Walker stood, turning to hit him with the kind of a smile that made it hard to remember his name.

S
ANDRA WATCHED THE REPORTER’S EYES go wide and let the barest hint of a smile curve her perfectly glossed lips. There wasn’t much she enjoyed as much as making a good entrance and the expression on his face almost made the ten-minute wait parked in front of his building worth it. Almost.

“Mrs. Walker,” he said, his voice just unsteady enough to salve her pride. “What a surprise.”

After the blow her pride had taken the past couple of weeks, knowing she could knock a young man off his game made her feel a little better. Especially a man with as much natural swagger as Matt Newman possessed. Instead of the jeans or straight-legged chinos he normally wore, he had on a pair of dark-gray slacks and a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal surprisingly strong forearms. The quality of the slacks wasn’t anything to speak of, but the tight, round ass inside was worth a second glance.

He needed a real watch instead of the Fossil One he wore and his shoes were awful. But the reporter had a lot of good raw material to work with. He just needed someone to help him maximize his potential. Maybe when she was done getting him to help her, she’d put some time into renovating him. He was young enough to benefit from the extra attention. She rolled the thought over in her head, liking the idea more as she considered it. It could be her good deed for the month.

“I’m sorry to drop in on you unannounced.” She wasn’t but it never hurt to say so. “I wondered if you would have a few minutes to talk to me?” She phrased it as a question, but she knew the answer before she asked it.

“Of course,” he said, still hesitating.

He glanced back and forth between her and the door of his apartment building and it occurred to her that his space might not be suitable for company.
What was it with men and cleaning up after themselves?
The only reason Shep’s place in Georgetown was even decent was because of the cleaning service she hired for him.
Honestly, it was a miracle they could get themselves out the door in the morning, let alone run the world.

“I don’t mean to intrude on your private space. Perhaps we could talk over a late lunch? Unless you’ve already eaten.” She let her face show just enough disappointment that he’d hurry to try to please her.

“No. I mean yes,” he said, and she bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling.

The man was adorable, but she was at an age where she couldn’t afford to put any more miles on her laugh lines. Botox could only do so much and women who started too soon with cosmetic surgery ended up looking like badly cast plastic dolls. She couldn’t afford that. Not when she planned on being in front of the cameras for the next decade. If she intended to be America’s queen, she needed to pace herself.

“No, I haven’t eaten, and yes, I’d be happy to talk with you over lunch,” he said, getting control over himself.

She knew she’d shocked the hell out of him, but he seemed to have managed to recover nicely. There was something so resilient about a younger man. They had such stamina.

“Perfect. I know just the place.” She nodded to the driver, who held the door for her so she could slide back into the warm interior of the car.

The calendar said it was spring, but DC didn’t feel like it had gotten the message. The other door opened and Matt climbed into the backseat with her. He smelled surprisingly nice. It was something she didn’t recognize and not expensive. She’d know it if it was—John Varvatos maybe. Whatever it was, she liked it.

“Take us to Ensho, please,” she said, raising her voice enough for the driver to hear.

She waited for the
very well, ma’am
and then pushed the button to raise the screen, closing off the backseat. When she glanced over at Matt, she found him watching her, looking as if he were trying to puzzle something out. She felt disinclined to help him. Having him just slightly off balance suited her purpose for the moment.

“What can I help you with?” he asked when she didn’t offer.

“Let’s wait until we get to the restaurant so we can talk uninterrupted. Have you heard from your sister since she took off to work with the campaign?” She’d gotten two very gracious emails from the young woman, thanking her for her help landing the job and offering to do whatever she could to help with Sandra’s violence against women initiative. Talking to that poor scared girl at the rally had paid big dividends and she couldn’t help but be proud at how things appeared to be going for Becca.

“I have. She’s loving it. Thank you for your part in making it happen for her.” He paused for a moment, and she waited patiently, knowing what would come next. “Thank you for what you’ve done for me as well. Going after that guy was a mistake, but I had to do something. I would have been in a great deal of trouble—I’d probably have lost my job—if you hadn’t intervened on my behalf.”

She felt conflicted. It was just like a man to rush off to
do
something and end up making things worse instead. But she also admired his need to avenge his sister. That was like a man too.

“I’m happy to help,” she said.

Honestly, it had been fun ordering around the woman her husband was screwing, and helping Matt served her larger purpose. It had gotten to be considerably less fun as time went on. Haven refused to push back, delegating anything Sandra asked her to do to a junior staff member. Once she realized she couldn’t rile the other woman, dealing with her became a lot less satisfying.

They rode the rest of the short drive to Ensho, chatting pleasantly about everything and nothing. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Matt seemed to have relaxed and turned into a charming companion. She congratulated herself for having the good sense to ignore her husband’s mistress in favor of working with the handsome reporter who knew how to flirt. The driver stopped the car in front of the restaurant and hurried to her side of the car.