“I do. That’s why I said I’d support you.”
His lips twisted at the corners. “You also know how important it is that I have no demons hiding that can be exposed and ruin my chances.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “My campaign manager found something that has me concerned.”
She wasn’t following. “What did he find on you?”
“Not on me, but you.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket, pressed a few buttons then laid it down on the coffee table, screen facing up. “Take a look.”
She leaned forward, seeing the picture. “You’re showing me a photo of someone’s bare feet?” She laughed but he stayed sober. Then it registered. Those wereherfeet. How did he havethe pictures? “Bentley, those pictures are from a long time ago. Ten years to be exact.”
“So, it’s true? You were selling pictures of your feet on that sleazy siteCowgirl Delight.” His frown became ugly and his gaze intense. He stared in a way that unsettled her—a stare that made her feel like she was nothing more than a stain on his sheets.
This opened the vault to her past when she felt ashamed of beingthatgirl. The one who didn’t have nice clothes, or nice things. She didn’t have a house that she invited friends back to. The girl who pretended she was on a diet so no one would know she didn’t have money for school lunch.
“Do I really need to explain?” she asked.
“Yes, I think you do.” His voice was laced with disgust.
“I was eighteen and saving money for college. Although I was lucky and received financial help, I still had to cover for books and any unexpected needs. I had already been working double shifts at the grill and had been cut off. Tansy—”
“Oh, I should have known Tansy would have had a hand in this,” he groaned. “She’s about as bad as...”
“As what? As me?” She leaned a few inches closer.
“Finish,” he said.
“Tansy had a friend who sold some photos online and she made enough to cover college for four years. I posted some pics of my feet and did well enough to pay for my books and a cheap car. I never did it a second time. It’s not like I was selling nudes or doing cam shows. I don’t even understand how these photos were found.”
His silence seemed to stretch on forever as more disappointment grew in his gaze. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.” He swiped up his phone and shoved it back into his jacket pocket.
“What exactly are you accusing me? Lying or earning a living?” She felt the stab of his indictment through the center of her chest. What had come over him? Where had that kind man she once knew gone? Did he no longer exist, or had he ever existed in the first place?
“You sold pictures to perverted men online,” he said with revulsion.
“Yes, I did, because I didn’t have rich parents who could pay my way through college. I couldn’t ask Pedora for more help.” She clamped down on her tongue to keep from saying anything more that she couldn’t take back. Frustration ambled through her and it seemed to be happening more when he was around.
“Don’t you see how this looks? Your less than desirable childhood is enough to set off a media avalanche, and if this…this foot porn problem is discovered it could ruin my chances to be elected. I’m running as a conservative on a family values platform. What will it look like to voters that my girlfriend is a complete opposite of what I stand for?” His words were said with such distance as if he were discussing something as insignificant as the weather.
“You had your manager dig up my past?”
“Aasia, don’t look so shocked. You’re a smart woman. You know the consequences of a close race. Hamilton and I are neck-to-neck in prediction polls. It becomes a smear campaign for every running mate. This is a big deal. I can’t believe you’re acting like it isn’t.”
“Because I don’t think it is that big of a deal. I didn’t choose my childhood, so I don’t owe you, or anyone, an apology.”
He blinked. “This could embarrass a lot of people.”
Then it struck her. “Your mother was the one who did the digging, wasn’t she?”
“Aasia—”
“No, I don’t need you to answer because I already know the truth. She’s been trying to conjure my demise since she walked into your house and found me naked in your bed. It’s not my fault that she doesn’t believe in knocking.” Another argument about his mother…go figure. It had become a thorn in the proverbial ass of the relationship almost from the start.
“Mother doesn’t tell me what to do,” he said stiffly.
“Oh? Who demanded you run for senate?”
“You’re exaggerating. There’s nothing wrong with someone aspiring for something grand.” His accent became prominent, which it did when he was angry or flustered.
“As long as those aspirations are something you truly want,” she said quietly.
