Conservative Affairs (16 page)

“Hello? This is Madeline.” The voice she’d been longing to hear came in over the speaker on the phone, breaking through the jumbled thoughts in Jo’s head.

“Hi, Mayor Stratton. It’s Jacquelyn and Jo. We wanted to talk to you about media strategies. Do you have time to talk?”

The mayor cleared her throat. “Sure.”

Was Madeline drinking again? Jo thought she detected a slight slur to her words. Maybe she was just tired. She shot a glance at Jacquelyn. It was good to know Madeline was having a difficult time tonight too. As much as she wished Madeline was doing well, her breakdown might mean that she cared, even a little bit. Jo considered the thought, and her guard went up. If Madeline had been drinking and wasn’t in full control of what she said, it could be dangerous. Jo would have to make sure Jacquelyn didn’t get wind of what had happened between them.

She wanted to invite her back over, wanted to tell her that she was sorry. But none of that was appropriate—and she knew it. Madeline was her boss, and anything romantic between them would be dishonorable, not to mention grounds for her dismissal, Madeline’s impeachment or both. She had to get a grip.

She heard Jacquelyn ask Madeline what she wanted to say to the press.

“Well, I’m sure I can guess most of them,” Madeline said. “But can you give me an example of the questions you’ve been getting?”

“Sure,” Jacquelyn said. “Did you know about John’s affair before the news broke? Do you plan to file for divorce? Do you know the woman he was caught with?”

“Okay, I can answer these,” Madeline said, although her pain was evident in her voice. “No, I didn’t know John was cheating and with whom. I plan to file for divorce.”

The words sounded rehearsed and rolled off the tongue too easily, obviously a practiced lie—at least in part. There was more to that story, Jo was sure.

“Okay,” Jacquelyn answered. “There are a few more things.”

She turned to Jo. “Did you have anything to add, Jo, before we move on?”

Jo stiffened. She had a million things she’d like to say, but only one came out. “We would like to give you all of the time in the world to deal with this, but the media has been persistent. I think that at some point in the near future we should hold a press conference.”

Madeline didn’t speak.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Jacquelyn said. She sounded as though she was finally happy to have someone on her side in the matter.

“I’ll consider it,” Madeline said. “But it’ll be on my terms, and it won’t be right away.”

“Okay. I just think it would be best,” Jo added.

“Thank you for that, Josephine,” Madeline said.

The use of her full name cut Jo deeper than she had expected. It seemed that even their friendship had disappeared.

“Now, what else was there, Jacquelyn?” Madeline asked, cutting off any further response from Jo.

Madeline’s dismissal of Jo’s idea, instead of relieving Jacquelyn’s curiosity, seemed to have added fuel to the fire of her interest. She had a hungry, even predatory look in her eyes as she continued. “Who will get the house? Will you continue your reelection efforts? And when do you plan to fully return to work?”

“The house and possessions will be decided at a later date. I will continue my reelection efforts.” Madeline paused. “Be sure to add something about how my top priority is to serve the people despite the difficulties of my personal life. As for returning to work, I came back today, didn’t I? I intend to continue to fulfill my duties as mayor to the fullest. Is that all?”

Jacquelyn pursed her lips, obviously wanting to delve deeper. But she knew when to stop. “That’s all for one night. We can deal with the rest as we move forward. Will you be in the office tomorrow?”

“At some point. I’ll talk to you more then. Have a good night,” Madeline said before ending the call.

Little was said as they finished dinner, although it was obvious Jacquelyn had a million more questions. It was an uncomfortable environment to say the least. Finally, Jacquelyn finished her pasta.

“That was wonderful,” she said, rising to leave. “I’ll call Ian on my way home and fill him in on everything. I think we can finally move forward. Thank you for having me.”

“You’re very welcome. Have a good evening.”

As Jo walked her to the door, her heart stopped in her chest.
The L Word
case was still on the coffee table from the other day. If Jacquelyn’s eyes drifted that way, she didn’t say anything—but that didn’t put Jo at ease by any means. If Jacquelyn had questions about that, she was smart enough not to ask them. Which only meant that she was going to do the digging herself. And that, to Jo, was much scarier than actually fielding her queries.

At the door, Jacquelyn asked, “Will I see you at work tomorrow?” Her tone was more than a little condescending.

“Of course. Will I see
you
?” Jo couldn’t resist spicing up the conversation with a little snarkiness of her own.

Jacquelyn forced a tight smile. “Always.”

She turned to leave and then turned back for just a moment. “You know,” she said quickly, “looking at this couch and seeing the cozy layout of your place, it’s hard to imagine Madeline sleeping out here. I would have thought you might have offered the mayor your bed.” She let the words linger, and Jo’s heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t formulate a response, trapped in her own fear of being found out. “I just thought you might have camped out on the couch yourself. Either way I guess it’s probably good for you to have your space back.”

Jacquelyn waltzed out of the apartment, leaving Jo in a whirl of crazed panic. She leaned against the closed door and sank to the floor, feeling dizzy. Jacquelyn’s words had achieved exactly what she had wanted them to.

* * *

The minute she ended the call with Jacquelyn and Jo, Madeline had to fight to keep the nausea at bay. Of course, she knew the “other woman.” John knew how to wound and he had done so by sleeping with Natalie—of all people.

Since she had been confronted with the picture of the woman John had been caught with, her mind had been plagued with concerns over who knew what—who remembered Natalie as Madeline’s lover and friend and might come forth with a million-dollar revelation to the media. Far more pressing, though, had been the unbearable sadness that came along with the discovery that the only person she had ever truly loved and been intimate with had stooped to such a low. The fact that Natalie was capable of inflicting so much pain on her had cut the legs right out from under her, turning a seasoned and skilled political mind into that of a weak and damaged woman.

The loneliness she felt glued her to the floor. Before she had been lonely—but she had not been alone. She had been surrounded by people at all times. Now, the silence seemed to echo around her, reminding her that she had no one.

There was no one she could call. No one she could share her pain with. No one she could reach out to for stability. Her sister was flighty and checked out long ago, her father was too busy, too absent. Aside from her circle of political friends—all of whom she kept at arm’s length, fearful of them digging too deep into her past and her sham of a marriage—she had no one. She wished she had been able to meld her professional life with her college life, keeping those friends who had meant the world to her in her life, but it had been impossible. The minute she had started climbing the ladder, lobbying on behalf of her father’s company, she had been forced to shed her party girl image and the people associated with it. Besides, those people knew too much, and it had been smarter to steer clear of them.

There was no one she
would
reach out to either. With power came responsibility. She would not let an inappropriate relationship with a staff member mar her service to the city she cared about nor would she allow her feelings to compromise Jo’s career. She cared about her too much to allow something like this to mark her and ruin her future.

She would find a way to deal with it all on her own—the loss of her husband and the loss and betrayal of her first love.

* * *

Back in her vehicle, Jacquelyn tried to process what she had seen. Jo was clearly on edge tonight, reeling from whatever had happened between her and Madeline. Jacquelyn was thankful to have some answers, but she was still curious. Why had Madeline abruptly cut Jo out of her life, after so quickly ushering her in? And why was there a lesbian DVD on Jo Carson’s coffee table?

She recalled how Jo repeatedly had come to Madeline’s defense, how tenderly she’d looked at the mayor. She thought at the time that there was something odd about that, but she had decided her suspicions were ridiculous. Now, however, Madeline was speaking to her with a chill in her voice and avoiding her. Jo had to have done something that repulsed Madeline. Jacquelyn considered the possibilities. Had Jo made the living environment uncomfortable? Had she perhaps made some kind of pass at Madeline? Jo seemed to have a world of secrets, and soon, Jacquelyn swore, she would uncover them all.

She smiled to herself; she might have finally figured out a way to torpedo Jo’s career. Much as she wanted to rebuke herself for the malicious thought, she couldn’t find the will to do so. She could not escape the person she was becoming, even if she had wanted to do so. And the truth was, she didn’t want to. Jo could destroy everything she had worked so hard to build; it was time for her to go. First, though, she had work to do.

She pulled out her cell phone. After a quick call to Ian to get the green light, she sprang into action. She had promised to alert the media when Madeline had more to say than “No comment.” She would issue a written statement to everyone when she returned to the office, but she thought she’d give a slight jump to the reporter who had been the nicest. It never hurt to help those who had shown tenderness and compassion, she thought.

She dialed the phone. “Isaac,” she said as he answered.

Chapter Seventeen

Getting back into the flow of a normal work week had not been easy. For the first time in two weeks, the morning’s headlines had said nothing about her or her philandering husband, but staff emotions still were running high, with early November winds reminding them that an election was less than a year away and the pace would soon pick up. It would pick up for her most of all, Madeline knew, but for the moment things were oddly calm. The buzz about “Who gets the house? And who loses their dignity?” had finally ceased—at least for the time being, as if the media seemed to have reconciled itself to the fact that there were other stories to be covered.

She was rarely followed by news cameras now. It could have been the inconspicuous gray sedan she had rented in place of her Suburban in hopes of throwing the press off her trail. Someone had tipped off the media that she was staying in the hotel, but after a day of frenzied camera-clicking and microphone-thrusting they had backed off, thanks to some stern words from the hotel’s management about pursuing trespassing charges and the statement Jacquelyn had issued. That, the fact that divorces took time and marking the reopening of a major business that had been destroyed by a tornado the previous year seemed to be keeping the bloodsuckers at bay, at least for now.

Madeline cricked her neck to the left to alleviate the tension building in her shoulders. Her lawyer had been in the office for thirty minutes now, going over all the possibilities of the divorce. She just wanted it over. She was going to give John half of everything, as he had demanded. It was better this way. Despite media revelations about his repeated infidelities, she was ready for it to come to an end.

She had yet to decide if she wanted to pursue another term, though. Publicly, she had stated that she would definitely run, but she was tired and ready for all of this to be over. If she could accomplish in the next few months the goals she had set when she ran, she could announce that she wasn’t running, finish her term as mayor and go back to a quiet, private life. She had the money to take some time off for traveling and clearing her head, and then she could return to the work that had landed her into office the first time. Not the family company perhaps—it was time for a fresh start, something other than hiding behind her family’s name and money in the place she’d always called home—but there was no shortage of other oil and gas companies that needed someone to work on communications, marketing, strategy or even behind the scenes.

With her experience, going back to the private sector would be easy. What would happen to Jo, though? It was stupid to be concerned about that, she knew, but if she decided not to run for another term the other staff members would simply move on. They’d continue to climb the political ladder, taking jobs in new offices or on new campaigns. But what about Jo? She had never heard her express an interest in staying in politics long term, nor should she. Jo was unequivocally creative with a slew of varied talents, and her time would be best spent writing a novel, singing to entertain or sharing her talents with the world outside of Oklahoma City. Whatever she chose to do, Madeline hoped she would go somewhere where she could live a life of authenticity without having to worry about what everyone thought.

She was only twenty-seven, after all. Madeline felt a pang of jealousy. She had settled down too early, had settled for a marriage devoid of true intimacy, all for the sake of being who she thought she was supposed to be. The oil and gas industry was something she cared about, but not the only thing. If she could do it all over again, there were so many things she would change. Maybe she, too, would have a chance at a more authentic life as a result of all of this—one where she didn’t have to run from her pent-up desires.

Madeline brought herself back to the present. She couldn’t keep letting her mind dwell on the very person who was responsible for her near moral downfall. She sighed. This had to end—just like residing at the hotel had to end.

Yesterday Ian had pulled her aside. “We need to start looking for a place for you, something permanent, stable. A place you can put down new roots,” he had told her. It was easy to read between the lines. What he was really saying was, “Get your shit together, Madeline, and show the voters you’re going to be sticking around.” She told him to go ahead and contact a realtor. She would start looking at houses this weekend.