Indecent Proposal (29 page)

Which she imagined was like foreplay for these awkward brainiacs.

“You ready to be a congressman’s wife?” a voice asked at her elbow, and she turned to find Ted Montgomery, holding a glass of orange juice he’d been doctoring with a flask of vodka in his jacket pocket, smiling at her.

It was difficult not to physically recoil.

It was strange to have such a strong visceral reaction to him because he looked like a time-machined version of the man who’d finger-fucked her to orgasm in the backseat of a car.

“Is it much different than what I’m doing now?” she asked.

“Well, I suppose that depends on what kind of woman you are?” There was something in his voice, just an inflection on the word
woman
that made the question … not okay. Very not okay.

“How do you mean?” She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she had something more physical between them. A brick wall. A thousand miles. Harrison.

“Well, are you going to play the game that’s required of you? Can you shovel shit while dishing it out?”

“That’s not part of the job as I see it. Harrison—”

He laughed at her like she was a little girl showing him a piece of art and she felt her North Philly instincts rising up. She imagined grabbing that plastic tray of muffins and bashing it over his head.

“My son is a lot of things, Ryan. But he is not cut out for politics. He’s too idealistic, too easily conned. You think you’re the first woman who has tricked him?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ask him about Heidi.” Ted stepped closer, his eyes taking a walk all over her as he leaned over to take the last banana muffin from the tray. “You picked the wrong Montgomery, sweetheart, if you wanted to fuck yourself into an easier life.”

She gasped, a thousand swear-rich insults running through her head, but she could only gasp like an offended debutante.

“What’s going on here?” It was Harrison, and Ryan turned away toward the fridge, blinking away embarrassed rage tears.

“You’re talking to me now?” Ted asked. “All it takes is getting within three feet of your wife?”

“What do you want?”

“You know your mother and I are a little concerned at how quickly this woman has embedded herself in your campaign.”

“She’s my
wife
.”

“Look, you want to prove you’re better than me? Fine, you’ve done it. You married her, but don’t give her the power to mess up your future.”

“You’re drunk.” Harrison crowded his father away from the kitchen island and caught his mother’s eye. Patty put down her teacup to come over. “Sending Dad to do your dirty work, Mother—that’s a little beneath you, isn’t it?”

“I did no such thing,” Patty said.

“Really, I’m supposed to think Dad cares about my political future?”

“Think what you want, Harrison,” Ted said. “You always have. But of course I care.”

“Right, now that your career is nearly over, I should have guessed you’d care about mine. I think it’s time for you both to leave.”

Ted put down the muffin, and he and Patty gathered their things and left as if he understood he’d used up whatever benevolence Harrison had for them.

Patty, in the doorway, looked over her shoulder at Harrison and Ryan. And Ryan thought about all those people getting on the
Titanic
, looking back at the friends and family they were leaving behind.

The only difference was that Patty knew she was climbing onto a doomed ship.

When she met Patty in that foyer weeks ago, she never would have imagined that she would feel pity for the woman. But as their eyes met across the room, her heart practically broke for her.

“Are you okay?” Harrison asked once they were gone.

“Fine.”

“What did he say?”

She thought about bringing up Heidi, or telling him how his father had sleaze-bagged all over her, but decided not to. It was what Ted wanted, to drive a wedge between them.

“Nothing important,” she said with a weak smile.

“That’s a lie.” Harrison’s voice was cold, his eyes narrowed. “Did he hit on you?”

“So what if he did, Harrison?” She sighed.

“So what if my father hit on my wife?”

“Your fake wife, remember? And I think your dad kind of hits on everyone.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No. And it doesn’t make it my fault, so stop glaring at me.”

Harrison picked up the muffin that Ted had put down. “You want this? I know the banana ones are your favorites.”

“No,” she lied past the lump in her throat.
They’re just muffins
, she told herself when she wanted to read all sorts of things into the fact that he noticed she liked them.
And you did eat three of them. The whole room probably noticed
.

Harrison threw the muffin away and went to talk to Jill.

Don’t think about it
, she thought, closing her eyes.
Don’t think about it at all
.

But in the end, she couldn’t quite stop herself.

What did Harrison have to do with the woman who nearly died in that car crash with Ted?

Chapter 22

Monday, October 14

Monday morning they were down at the office bright and early, getting ready to film additional television spots. But ever since Ted had talked to her at the party, their shtick was off.

Unable to handle her husband’s chilly silence, on Sunday she tried to give him a hard time about keeping the condo so cold penguins could survive in her bedroom, but he’d only turned up the heat without argument.

This morning she’d asked him to make her a decaf latte from the espresso machine he treated like an expensive car, which she usually openly mocked. And he did it without once trying to explain the machine’s magical inner workings.

He’d placed the perfectly made latte in front of her with a smile that was miles away from his eyes.

I’m the one who is mad
, she’d thought.
I’m the one who is supposed to be cool
.

He was robbing her of her righteous coolness.

“Harrison,” she said in the car heading downtown through the milky dawn. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it about your dad? Because there’s nothing to be upset about.”

“My father hits on my pregnant wife and there’s nothing to be upset about?”

“Fine, yes. Be pissed. He’s a shitty guy. But why are you upset with
me
?”

“I’m not.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “Is it because you think he’s right? You regret bringing me into the campaign like you have?”

“No!” he said so quickly and fervently she could not doubt him. Which frankly was a relief. She didn’t want to believe that Ted could plant seeds of doubt in her husband’s mind, but his behavior since the party had been so strange.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m trying not to pull you under, Ryan,” he said, throwing her words back at her. “I would think you’d be grateful.”

The conversation was far from over, but they arrived downtown and Harrison was out the door, turning to help her because his manners were flawless.

“Harrison,” she sighed.

“Like me or hate me, Ryan. Make up your mind.”

Stunned by his rebuff, she followed him into the office.

As off as it was between them, inside the office it was business as usual. The team honestly seemed to need her. They asked her opinion on which tie he should wear for the spot—she pushed for pink, they wanted blue; compromise was met at purple.

They talked about having her in the spots.

“She’s too pretty. She’ll upstage him,” Wallace joked.

“Very funny,” Harrison said.

“I’m not joking.”

“Do you have the notes on the speech?” Harrison asked her, tying his tie without a mirror. Because he was that guy. After the spot, Harrison was giving a speech at a community center in Kirkwood. For that she would
be there, standing in the background, hands clasped behind her, smiling until his speech was over.

“Yes,” she said, slipping into her black heels, her feet already protesting. “We’re changing the part about college tuitions.”

“No. The part about tax breaks for children’s programming.”

“Right.” She shook her head. “Sorry.”

Maynard from the
Journal-Constitution
kept asking her questions after events and after a while, the other journalists got in on it too. She couldn’t say she knew the answer all the time, but Wallace prepped her pretty well with sound bites that seemed to mollify the press.

And truthfully, she enjoyed answering the questions. She enjoyed having the answers. She’d enjoyed these powwows before, this sense of … team. And she never once would have considered it was a bad thing until Ted said that yesterday. She never suspected she would have the power to poison anything of Harrison’s.

And whether it was fake or not, she liked the way Harrison had looked at her the last few weeks. Like they were partners. Like he was proud.

No one had looked at her like that. Not in a very long time.

And she was just vain enough, or maybe just needy enough, to love it.

And miss it now that he wasn’t looking at her at all. And it was childish; she knew that. She’d been the one so dead set on keeping the walls up between them. But she’d liked that he’d been trying to get over them.

Exhaustion rolled over her like a sudden fog.

“You know,” Wallace said as he walked past her, “this is a pretty straightforward meet and greet. We don’t actually need you to come, if you need a day to rest.”

Harrison’s head came up. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Are you tired?”

“I’m fine,” she said, though a day off was a lovely idea. It had been late night after early morning for about five days now and she could use a baby-growing nap. Or three. And to be left alone with whatever remained of the catered breakfast from yesterday.

But she wasn’t about to stay home, not when this
purpose
was waiting out there for her.

Everyone in the room shared quick glances. “Really,” she said. “I’m fine. My doctor said I was doing great and as long as I was sleeping at night, I could help campaign.”

“We kept you out until one a.m. last night,” Harrison said.

“And woke you up at seven,” Jill added. “And that’s pretty much the latest morning you’ve had.”

“I think we can give the good-luck charm a break,” Wallace said.

“Good-luck charm?” she asked, spinning on her heel to look at Harrison, who was sort of blushing against the door.

“It’s not … That’s—”

“That’s what we’ve been calling you,” Wallace said, interrupting Harrison. “This whole campaign hit overdrive since you came on.”

“Well, it sounds like you need me. So, let’s get going.” She grabbed her makeup case from the edge of Harrison’s desk. She’d gotten good at putting on her makeup in the back of the car. One of the million little things she’d gotten good at in the last few weeks.

“You can stay home,” Harrison said, turning to the door without looking back at her. “We’ll be okay.”

“Harrison—”

“Stay home, Ryan.”

“But … are you sure?” Disappointed didn’t begin to
describe this feeling. She was ready to take her role as good-luck charm seriously.

“I’m sure. You should rest.”

And then they were all gone, whisked away into cars to go film the TV spots, leaving her alone in this office that wasn’t hers, in this life that wasn’t particularly hers either.

Thursday, October 17

Without the campaign work to distract her, Ryan couldn’t stand the suspense about Paul anymore and frankly, she was pretty sick of lying down and letting the Montgomery family do what they wanted with her. So Thursday afternoon she drove herself to the Governor’s Mansion—which felt like a big deal after weeks of being driven everywhere like a delivery that needed to be dropped off.

And she went looking for the lioness in her den.

“Patty around?” she asked, walking into Noelle’s office, which was right outside the closed doors of Patty’s.

Noelle, quick as she was, only gaped for a second. Ryan was on a roll, so she just pushed open the double wooden doors to reveal Patty working at her desk.

She glanced up at the intrusion and lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. And then removed red reading glasses and set them on her desk.

“Do we have an appointment?” Patty asked.

“No. This is more of a casual thing,” she said.

“I’m afraid I don’t—”

“You don’t have anything scheduled for the next hour,” Noelle said, earning her a scowl from Patty. And if Ryan could hand out merit badges, Noelle would be first in line.

“Lovely,” Patty sat back. “Would you like coffee or—”

“No. What I would like is to know why you’re trying to hunt down my ex-husband.”

Patty shot a withering glance over Ryan’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare blame Noelle,” Ryan said. “She was showing more respect for your son and his campaign than you have.”

“Noelle.” Patty stood up behind her desk. Once upon a time Ryan might have quaked in her boots, but she’d seen behind this woman’s façade and wasn’t impressed. “Shut the door on your way out.”

The door clicked quietly behind her.

“If you find Paul, it will bring down Harrison’s campaign,” she said.
Through me
. That she didn’t say.

“You credit him with that much power?”

“He would say anything to hurt me. Make up any kind of lie, just to see me go down, and I would pull Harrison down with me. We both know that.”

And she wanted to defend herself. To tell Patty, who undoubtedly wouldn’t care that she was a different person than the woman who’d married that kind of guy. Who’d been so attracted to his ruthlessness.

Who’d let him touch her and hurt her and then touch her again.

Ryan’s name in Paul’s mouth would turn all the changes she’d made in her life into nothing.

“If voters saw him, all that would matter was I am the kind of woman who’d married that scumbag, which would make my marriage to Harrison totally suspicious.”

“Yes,” Patty agreed, coming around the front of the desk. Sunlight streamed through the windows to fall on Patty’s face. For any other woman the sunlight would have picked through and highlighted flaws. Wrinkles and weird coloring spots. But not Patty. She looked flawless. “That is what I imagined.”