Private Politics (The Easy Part) (21 page)

He reached up and gently pulled her elbows down. She looked cracked and he appreciated it, but it didn’t make him any less pissed at her. “
I
asked for half a second.
I
asked to take things slow. You didn’t accept that.”

She shook her head. “No, you asked for a guarantee. There’s a difference.”

He released her and walked to the door. “I’ll help you. I’ll always help you. It’s a good story.” God, that was a cruel thing to say, but at this point, he didn’t care.

Wanting to be absolutely clear about where they stood he turned on his heel and added, “But this...this yo-yo thing? I can’t. I won’t. I’m out. I’ll come by in the morning to talk about how to move forward with Geri and Ryan. Don’t do anything until then, okay?”

For a long, painful moment they stood there looking at each other. Waiting. He wasn’t sure what else there could be to say. She’d seen their conversation from this morning and thought there was still hope. Now, he’d crushed it.

He was most definitely the one doing the leaving now, but it didn’t feel triumphant.
Soul-crushing vacuum of nothingness
might be one way to put it.

She broke first and became riveted by something on the floor. Still, he waited. For a sign, a word, any kind of acknowledgment.

Finally, still looking at the floor, she gave him one choppy nod. That was it, then. That was everything she had to say.

With a sigh, he left.

Chapter Twenty

On Saturday morning Alyse paced the sidewalk and tried to look nonchalant. Confident. Not like she was about to engage in a Deep Throat-esque conversation with Geri, Ryan and her ex-boyfriend. She was a Bond girl, a perfect sophisticated Bond girl. She’d done this a thousand times before. Typical weekend stuff.

Just then her shoe, a sensible penny loafer wedge, caught in a gap in the sidewalk and she pitched forward several steps. Okay, maybe she was the girl that MI-6 sent to learn from the master. This was her first mission. But still, she was a pro. A complete and total pro walking into an awkward-ass morass of a meeting whose subject matter would only make the entire thing worse. Right.

At least Liam’s anger that she had set up this meeting without his help or input would detract from the awkward. Incensed wasn’t his normal register. He wore it badly.

Their conversation in her apartment the night before had been surprising. Like an election night when the exit polling was screwy—a simile he would love—she hadn’t anticipated the break at all.

She’d hurt him. The instant she’d lashed out about the Poindexter story, she had seen some of the light go out of his eyes. And yet she’d kept right on punching. She had sandblasted herself right off that list of things that made him glow-y and wrecked them both in the process. At least it had been well and totally done. How efficient of her.

The words she’d said to him weren’t untrue in the strictest sense. No, the problem was that she couldn’t trust her emotions. She’d been betrayed by her instincts. At work, with him, and particularly in the conflict between the two, her flight or fight decisions were way off. Stupid instincts.

If she’d just been able to leave his apartment without talking to him everything would have been different. Then she could have sent a text making some excuse and when she’d confronted him she would have been more circumspect. Plus she would have known about Bertie...

The worst part was that she missed Liam. Missed his laugh and eye-crinkling smile. His warm certainty. His curious, optimistic mind.

Which was insane. They’d had only a few days together as a couple. Before that she’d seen him a few times a week with Millie and Parker, but it wasn’t like they interacted that much. He’d normally found a way to sit next to her and they’d talked often, but that was it really. Breaking up wouldn’t be all that different. It would be just like returning to normal. It would be...horrible.

It already was. She’d been freezing in bed alone last night. She’d tossed and turned for hours, searching for him. Her body couldn’t seem to accept they’d broken up. When this was all over, she’d find a way to make it up to him. She’d give him some time to heal and then make a grand gesture. Something like—

“Do you ever do anything I ask you to?”

She turned to find Liam scowling at her. Scowling while staring at her legs—so there was that.

“You shouldn’t take it personally.” She offered him one of the coffees she was holding. “I don’t do what anyone asks me to.”

He took it but continued making a face.

“I was trying to save time. If I’d waited for you to come over this morning before doing anything I would be calling Geri now. Then we have had to wait for them to respond before we could have set up the meeting, all with you being petulant—”

“You might have violated the terms of your immunity deal.” Liam looked away and glared at the storefront they were standing in front of.

She snapped, “I’m not under a gag order. I’m also not an idiot.”

He snapped back toward her and took a step closing the gap between them. The light was back in his eyes now, but not the soft affectionate expression she’d gotten so fond of.

With their noses inches apart, he whispered, “I have absolutely never thought that about you. Not for a single instant.”

His breath fanned over her lips and scrambled her insides.

Without taking a step away, she sighed and ran her free hand into her hair, pulling it in front of her face so she didn’t have to look at him as she said, “I took initiative. Go with it.”

After a long tense moment, she turned and started toward the fountain. Liam kept pace alongside her, evidently deciding to let the browbeating go for a minute. Maybe he’d taken the coffee for the peace offering it was.

It was nice to walk next to him again. If she could ignore the fact that the entire width of sidewalk was between them, that they weren’t touching, that he seemed to be fighting with himself not to look at or otherwise acknowledge her, she could almost pretend the last thirty-six hours hadn’t happened.

“What did you tell Geri?” he finally asked as they crossed the street toward Dupont Circle.

“Very little. Here.” She gestured at the benches around the fountain. “I told them we’d meet them here.”

As they sat—on the same bench but far, far apart—she said, “I told her I was quitting. I told her I’d had a really interesting conversation with Fred. I told her she and Ryan should come and hear what I had to say. I told her they should come prepared to talk about Marc Rynsburger. She, uh, didn’t say much. Thirty minutes later, she called me back and agreed. How did I do?”

“Great. I just—” He seemed to be struggling to find the words, which was not like him. After a few beats, he said, “All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is to keep you safe. I only ever made a move because I wanted to protect you, to help you.”

“Right,” she replied.

He might very well believe what he’d said. He had been awfully hesitant about pursuing her. Whether she would have allowed him to remain so—or whether she would have eventually realized he was awesome and jumped him anyway—was another question.

Ignoring it, she continued, “My goal wasn’t just to stay safe, it was to protect my future options and to fix YWR. Our goals were not aligned.” She knew she was talking about so much more than just the scandal they stood on the cusp of.

“Yes, well—”

“They’re here.”

Across Dupont Circle on the other side of the fountain Geri and Ryan were walking toward them. Geri was glancing about nervously.

“Dear Lord, were we that bad during our first episode of espionage?” Alyse whispered.

“Our first episode of espionage, which occurred on Wednesday? Yes. In fact, we were worse.”

“They didn’t catch us,” she pointed out.

“Okay, so we were only marginally better.” Liam chuckled a bit.

Geri strode up to them and scowled. Oh, Liam had so much to learn. With a little more practice, he might reach her level. Might.

“Alyse, Liam,” she said with an icy arch of a brow.

“Geri, Ryan,” Alyse replied. This was going to be so ridiculous.

Geri sat on the bench just across the armrest from Alyse and Ryan sat next to her. Alyse just waited. She’d already supplied a lot of information on the phone the night before. They had to take the next step.

A good minute passed before Geri said, “I’m sorry you’re quitting. You’re an excellent...fundraiser. I don’t know what it is you think you know. I don’t know what you told Fred. But you’re wrong. We’re just here because we want to clear the air. Those were pretty heavy insinuations last night.” She turned and the scowl intensified if that were possible. “And in your piece, Liam. What was that?”

Ryan didn’t say anything during Geri’s speech. His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his overcoat and he was watching the fountain with unearned interest. Alyse might have believed him to be indifferent except for the palpable frustration and anger wafting off him.

“Great!” Alyse said. “If you want to clear the air, I’m just dying to know where the money came from.”

“What money?” Geri deadpanned. “
You’re
the director of fundraising. Shouldn’t you know?”

“I
am
the director of fundraising. But that makes my confusion all the more notable.” Alyse made her voice as sticky sweet as she knew how and threw her head to the side. She would have twirled her hair around her finger, but that probably would have been too much.

The act earned her another scowl from Geri and probably one from Liam, as well. She didn’t want to break her concentration to check.

“You can’t prove anything,” Ryan grumbled. Fear had made him sullen. What a surprise. Quentin had been the same way. So had Steven. She really couldn’t go back to those guys. She needed to get Liam to forgive her.

She gave the boy in question a look. The only good thing about his version of this plan was that they would have had more time to prepare for this interview. She didn’t have a lot of practice, or any practice at all, doing this. He probably had lots of ideas for how to move an intransigent interview subject into compliance.

Seeming to sense her confusion, Liam leaned forward, elbows on thighs, and said, “Look, you can make this easier on yourselves by being straight with us.”

“Straight about what?” Geri said, all edge and attitude.

This was silly. They could spend all morning going around in circles like this and never get anywhere. Wanting to move things along, Alyse dropped all pretense and said, “I showed Fred multiple versions of some of the receipt letters. The ones to R. Cross and some other dummy corporations.”

Geri gasped—actually gasped. All the bounce went out of Ryan’s body. He became as stiff and lifeless as the statues in the fountain.

Alyse shot another look at Liam. He gave her the barest smile and nodded to encourage her to continue.

Feeling more confident, she said, “I showed him scans of the originals—many of which bore your signature—and then the new, doctored versions—all of which had my signature on them. I gave him the names of the dedicated accounts you invented to try to keep the money—Marc Rynsburger’s money—off the books. I also told him about the night Liam and I saw the two of you destroying evidence. Am I leaving anything out?” This last bit she addressed to Liam.

“Nope.”

Liam could give really good face when he wanted to. Even she was a little bit intimated by the steely look he was giving Geri and Ryan.

Geri was clearly the ringleader of this criminal enterprise; Ryan had turned imperceptibly toward her as if waiting for instructions. Still, neither of them spoke.

Alyse took and then released a cleansing breath of the cold March air. She and Liam’d set up it so well. What was it going to take to get them to talk?

Alyse decided to go with an old reliable play, something bound to provoke the confessions. Sweet and accusatory weren’t in her wheelhouse, but ditzy and coy were as familiar as vintage denim.

“Oh, I know what I left out!” She swatted at Liam’s shoulder without quite touching him. Even she knew there were some boundaries she shouldn’t cross. “The threatening note on my bed! Oops, I almost forgot all about it. I reported it to the police right away, of course, but I told the investigators yesterday.”

“What note?” Geri seemed alarmed...and surprised. Was it possible she could actually be hearing about this for the first time?

“You didn’t know?” Liam asked. There was a suspicious note in his voice.

“What note?” Geri repeated.

Alyse had known the woman for seven years. She’d seen her happy and sad, disappointed and elated. It had been an imperfect relationship—anything that ended like this was. But they had done good work together, they really had. They’d raised a lot of money, they’d hired good people, they’d funded good projects. Even now, their dollars were making a difference.

As she sat there on that cold March morning and looked into Geri’s face, Alyse knew that the woman had nothing to do with the note and also that she hated the idea of anyone threatening the person she’d once thought of as a protégé.

Alyse sighed. “The day you told me you were going to handle the audit stuff, I went home and found a warning on my bed. Bitch something or other don’t get involved in things that don’t involve you, blah blah blah.”

Geri gave a dagger-sharp look at Ryan, who threw his hands up mea culpa style. “It wasn’t me, I swear! Does that sound like me at all?”

Geri asked, “Do you think it was...”

“Rynsburger?” Liam supplied.

“How do you know that name?” Ryan asked. He no longer sounded angry. His voice has lost its polish and color, that weird smear of used car salesman and frat boy and finishing school lobbyists acquired from God knew where. No, he sounded sad and resigned. He knew he had lost and now they were just haggling over the details.

Alyse should feel happy but instead she felt sort of bad for both him and Geri, which was preposterous.

Liam shot Alyse a look and then shrugged. “I’m a journalist.”

She had to work not to smile. She had never heard him claim the label with such confidence. It was hot. He was hot. She had so much explaining and apologizing to do.

“You said he wasn’t a journalist.” Oh good, Geri’s bitchy side was back.

She let herself smile now. “That’s the only thing I lied about.”

“Now, girls,” Liam teased. He must be feeling pretty good about how things were going if he was joking.

Ryan leaned closer to them and said in a near whisper, “Geri said you were snooping and I may have mentioned it to...
him
, but honestly, it doesn’t seem like his style either.”

“So you’re implying that I received a threat intended for someone else? Some sort of twisted turn-down service? My, the District is so seedy.”

Liam snorted and gave her a look of appreciation.

“I’m saying it’s possible but I don’t know.” Ryan looked genuinely sorry.

“Look, this can go a number of ways,” Liam said. “You can refuse to talk—to us, to the investigators, to anyone—and take your chances if they pursue this. You might get away with it, but you might not. The IRS is not exactly the most forgiving bunch. Behind door number two, you can talk but just to the investigators. This risks Rynsburger managing to get out of it and you taking the fall for him. Or you can talk to everyone and I can try to hang him in the court of public opinion. No guarantees, of course, but it might help. At the very least, we could get all the facts out there.”

“How did you get involved?” Geri asked.

“Let’s just call it a favor for a friend,” Liam said. True and painful—so very painful.