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“Your fiancée at the moment, Ms. Barrett, believed you had called it off, but you decided to say it was mutual so as not to embarrass Ms. Calley.”
His smile slipped, he stiffened, and for a moment he looked like he wanted to throw her through the office window.
Then, the snap of the fingers, and Mr. Candidate was back. A dark eyebrow up in charming question, the practiced smile now firmly in place. He shook his head. “I can’t imagine why the electorate would care about a former engagement. It isn’t like it happened last month. It was more than two years ago.”
“Alex. I’ve told you this before, your personal life will be endlessly fascinating to voters, and as you know, it all goes much smoother if you’re willing to be an open book and leave no unanswered questions. Believe me, people scent when you’re not being completely honest and open, and they’ll talk and wonder. Now, if voters read a former fiancée broke your heart, they will feel sorry for the pain you must have felt, empathize with you, admire your brave face. Hasn’t Cory mentioned to you it’s usually best to feed the beast?”
“Yes, of course, it’s Cory’s mantra. It’s simply disappointing the electorate don’t dig into the issues, and leave the distant past buried.”
Mia burst out laughing. “Sorry, but I can’t believe you—a politician—just said that. Alex, of course you know people are endlessly curious about a candidate’s past, transgressions and experiences, whatever.”
“Yes, of course, particularly if there’s a meaty scandal, but, Mia, I can’t imagine there’d be much interest in an old engagement if Juliet weren’t so beautiful and talented, and more famous now than two years ago.”
“That sounds a bit cynical, if you don’t mind my saying. I think people would have seen you and Juliet as the ideal couple, both picture-perfect. And when you didn’t marry, they would have been disappointed and wondered what happened. So let’s get it out of the way. Tell me, did you call it off? Or did she?”
He tapped his beautiful pen on the cheap desktop, and Mia knew he was playing for time to think. Then he smiled, shrugged. “Feeding voters’ curiosity is one thing, but in this political climate, I can’t afford any hint of personal indiscretion out there, present or past. It could be the end of my campaign, if the wrong people disapproved. Very well, I’ll go out on a limb and tell you, but you have to promise me it will be off the record. You have to agree it doesn’t leave this room.”
“If that’s what you want, sure. Off the record then.”
He managed to look both ashamed and embarrassed, actually hung his head. She couldn’t wait to hear what he’d come up with.
Alex tapped his pen on the desk again, dropped it, then shook his head, as if reaching a decision. “The oldest reason in the world, I imagine. I feel stupid about even saying it. I cheated on her. I know this will sound like I’m making excuses, but the fact was she was completely focused on her music, on her next concert, and not much else in the world. And that included me, her fiancé. I was annoyed because she’d broken another of our dates. I met someone, I got drunk, but it was only the one time. I felt like scum about it the next day. I couldn’t lie to her, not Juliet. She’s amazing, but she’s also terribly serious, something of a prude, like her mother, as a matter of fact, but the one thing I didn’t realize was how unforgiving she’d be. I swore to Juliet I’d never see the woman again—and I haven’t—but as I said, Juliet decided she needed only music in her life. If she said anything about all this, well, let me add I wouldn’t expect Juliet to cut me any slack. To her I’d gone beyond the pale, and there was no regaining her trust. When she broke us up, we agreed we would tell everyone it was a mutual decision.”
“It surprises me she agreed to make it seem mutual if she’s unforgiving. I don’t suppose you told your current fiancée, Ms. Barrett, the truth about your breakup?”
“Of course. We are completely honest with each other. I’m older and wiser now, Mia. To be honest, Pamela is everything to me Juliet wasn’t.” He shrugged. “What I mean is Pamela’s a realist, sees the world for what it is, warts and all, and faces things head-on. That’s exactly what a mayor’s wife needs to be, why she’s perfect for me.”
“According to Ms. Barrett, Juliet couldn’t deal with your political ambitions, she was too sensitive and avoided confrontation at all costs; in other words, she runs from anything unpleasant. That made her unsuitable for you, and Juliet finally realized it, so you being unfaithful to her wasn’t the real crux of the problem.”
He said evenly, “Pamela is right about that. Juliet usually shrank back from anything unpleasant. She was, and still is, from what I hear, much more comfortable with her piano than with the rancor of politics. Would we have married if I hadn’t cheated on her?” He gave a charming Gaelic shrug. “Two years ago—it’s a long time.”
“So you’re saying Juliet wouldn’t stand up for herself if something bad happened to her? She wouldn’t say anything to cause comment, worry her parents, create a scandal?”
“I hope Juliet didn’t hint anything bad had happened to her. I can’t imagine what it would be.”
“No, certainly not. I just wondered. Thank you for clearing that up for me. I suppose you know your fiancée is very jealous of Juliet.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I expect ninety-nine percent of women on the planet would be jealous of Juliet. You saw her face. Helen of Troy wouldn’t stand a chance next to her.”
Mia knew he wanted to know what it was Juliet had said to her, but she wasn’t about to oblige him. “Thank you for your honesty, Alex. Next, I spoke briefly to the professors at Harvard, and as I expected, they were quite laudatory since you gave me their names.”
It was time to dig in the spurs. Mia made a show of looking down at her iPad a moment, before saying, “I spoke with some of the departmental secretaries there as well, and they remembered you had quite a reputation with the girls. You partied with Kent quite a bit, even went to other universities, some even out of state. Do you remember any of the girls you dated? I’d love to get an idea of what you were like in your twenties.”
Impossible for him not to realize she was baiting him. He waved a dismissive hand. “You have to remember it was a different time, young men and women behaved differently, partied differently. Sure, I sowed some wild oats—most everyone did in my social circle—but I never went overboard.”
“So you didn’t inhale,” Mia said and gave him a big grin.
He pulled up a smile. “That’s right. I kept up with my studies and even excelled at them, well, most of them, as I think you found out.
“I certainly hope these topics we spoke of today won’t be the focus of your piece. It wouldn’t be fair to me or to the people of New York. Don’t you want what’s best for New York, Mia?”
She had to hand it to him, he’d batted the ball back at her quite well. She consulted her notes again, looked up. “Yes, of course, but let me finish giving you a rundown of my interviews. I also stopped in at Bennington Prep, met Coach Wiliker. I showed him a photo of you I’d happened upon that showed you with a torn earlobe. He remembered clearly when you were injured playing lacrosse. He made you out to be the wounded hero, quite a story. And you won the championship for Bennington, two years in a row.”
“Yes, we did. But the ear was no big deal. One of my teammates hit me by accident with his lacrosse stick. It hurt like blazes, ripped my earlobe, and I ended up with a notch in my ear. I got it repaired three years ago. Ah, did the coach say anything else?”
“He said you were an excellent leader”—she paused, looked again at her tablet—“that you always drove the bus, even with Kent, your best friend. Of course I’d heard that before. It’s appropriate the leader do the driving, isn’t it?” Mia rose. “I’m sorry if Coach Wiliker thought I was snooping. Lots of people do when all I ever want is to get something interesting. I imagine he called to tell you what a pest I was?”
“No, of course not.”
