Page 65 of Brought By the Storm

“Thank you, Mother. Bye,” I said before disconnecting. I looked over to Stefan, who was frowning, awaiting the plan. “They’ll be releasing a statement on my behalf, stating that in a foolish moment of vanity, I asked Mr. Turner to take the photo of me, wanting it for the future to remember my youth. We had an agreement that it was for me alone, but he had released it—much to my embarrassment. It will say that I hope the people of Yastarus will forgive my serious error in judgment.”

Stefan nodded. “It’s not like other political leaders haven’t been caught shirtless—or worse. It will blow over.”

I glanced at Eric, who was fidgeting with his cell phone. “I think it’s best Stefan and I leave from here in a taxi cab. Thank you for driving us this far.”

Eric’s eyes went wide, his mouth quivering. “But I’ve been trying to contact Mateo to find out how he got the picture. He hasn’t responded.”

“I don’t care,” I mumbled without emotion. “What difference does it make now?”

Another tear ran down his face. “Because his explanation might prove I’m telling you the truth. You’re telling the world I betrayed you. I didn’t.”

I looked past him, not wanting to feel empathy for his pitiful state. “Eric, I was at your house, remember? Mateo never went down to your basement when I was there. There’s only one way the photo could have made its way to him.”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out,” he cut in. “I was wondering if I had a setting on the camera that would have sent him photos as I took them. I’ve had the camera for a couple of years, and he helped me set it up. I don’t think it can do that. I don’t remember us doing that, and I don’t know why I would have done that, but nothing is making sense.”

“For your sake, you had better hope you didn’t do something so fucking stupid,” I snarled. “That would mean he has all the photos. All of them. Are you that incompetent that you’d set up something like that and not remember it? Why would you do that?”

He started inaudible crying. “I wouldn’t! I mean, I’m sure I didn’t. I don’t know.”

His explanation was implausible—downright ridiculous, in fact, for someone with an alleged genius IQ. If he was so desperate that he would spin a tale that made him sound like an imbecile, he had to be covering a lie. “Let me be clear, if anything else comes out that embarrasses me in any way, I will use my power to ruin you.”

Eric was gasping, trying to stop himself from crying. He shot Stefan a pleading look, which was met with more iciness than I was projecting. “Carrington…please…”

“Goodbye, Eric,” I responded in a clipped tone. I motioned to Stefan that it was time for us to leave. I didn’t look back at Eric. Despite my anger, there was a small part of me that wanted to console him. I guessed I couldn’t just flip a switch to turn off what I had begun to feel for him, but returning to Yastarus was a start.

Once we were out of the restaurant, I experienced a mild panic attack. Alarmed, Stefan grabbed my arm and was rubbing my back as I began gasping for air. He sat me down on the sidewalk, and true to New York City’s reputation, nobody paid attention to us.

“It will be okay, Carrington,” Stefan soothed, hand on my shoulder.

“Will it, though?” I rasped. I knew I would make it through the scandal, but I had lost so much more. I had been in love for the first time in my life, and like so many times in the past, the partner in my relationship had used me for their own gain. Maybe it was the universe’s payback for breaking Stefan’s heart.

“Come on,” Stefan urged once my breathing had normalized, putting an arm under my armpit to lift me from the pavement. “Let’s get out of this place. Time to go home.”

* * * *

Stefan and I were in the airline’s private lounge, awaiting the announcement to begin boarding the plane. Neither he nor I had said much since hailing the taxi. Anything we had to say would have been redundant and unhelpful.

I tried to focus on how I’d respond to questions from reporters and fellow countrymen, but thoughts of Eric continued creeping into my head. I tried to think of any possible explanation for how Mateo could have secured the photo without Eric’s assistance, but nothing made sense. It was obvious Eric was guilty.

However, I was beginning to believe he hadn’t pushed Mateo to release the photo to bolster his photography career. His shock at seeing the photo on Mateo’s Facebook page seemed real enough. He might have showed off to Mateo, asking him to keep the picture to himself, thinking he could trust him—just as I had trusted Eric. His naïveté regarding the difficulty for a sitting president to explain a leaked shirtless photo was surprising. I wasn’t a pop celebrity. I blamed myself for thinking a twenty-six-year-old would be mature enough to comprehend the consequences. It made me reassess, concluding Eric wasn’t selfish—he just needed to grow up. I wished I had realized that in the moment and parted more amicably. A relationship would be a mistake, but believing I could stop caring about him was wishful thinking.

Stefan’s cell phone began to buzz. He looked at it, then mouthed to me that it was Mateo. I leaned in closer so I could hear the conversation.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you,” Stefan shouted.

“I’ve been talking to Eric. Dude, why the hell didn’t you tell me the truth? You said you were models. Now I find out Carrington is the president of Belarus!”

“Yastarus,” Stefan corrected with irritation.

“Whatever! Jesus, it’s a shit storm. I’ve had people from your government calling me to tell me to remove the photo. They’ve been asking if I doctored the picture. What the fuck, man?”

“How did you get the photo?” Stefan snapped.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “From you.”

Stefan looked at me, his face draining of color. “What are you talking about? I didn’t give you that photo.”

“Last night, when you told me to order us take-out. I went to call the local Chinese place, but my phone was dead. It died during the power outage, and I forgot to charge it at Eric’s house. I figured I would use your phone. I was going to ask you for the password, but then I saw you didn’t have one, and the picture of Carrington was your screensaver.”