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He should have known.
Ten days into his return, the rumors about him and Rush began breathing their way through the office buildings, cafés, and members-only clubs of the capital. He should have been the last one to be surprised by something like that. It was always when people thought that they were clear of danger that things came back to bite them in the ass and every threat materialized. Many times, part of his job was to prevent it.
“We heard. Been getting calls from concerned friends,” Dana Brin said the moment she picked up his call. Her tone put air quotes around the word friends.
“Thought you would.” Jordan ran a hand over his jaw, scanning the news sites, looking for initial indications of the story reaching them. He found none and rejected the thought of gauging it through his media connections. Any interest could only fuel the rumor mill.
“Lost your killer instincts in your small town, Delaney? Remind me what it’s called again. Something Riviera? Riviera Ridge? Riviera Valley? Something right out of a Hallmark movie, if I remember correctly. There’s no room for our kind in those places. See what happens to someone like you there? You forget how to play the game, then you come back with all your guards down and there’s hell to pay. You can’t do this job part-time, Jordan.”
“Brin, I’ll say this only once—we stick to the facts. Only the facts. Don’t initiate contact. Don’t comment if they contact you. Don’t give them ammunition. Right now, this thing runs on nothing, but if we react …”
“How did it start circling, anyway? Who did you piss off?”
He expelled a breath. She was grating on his nerves. “You know Dobbe? He’s a legislative assistant to Senator Warber. I was hired to fix his screw-ups. Missed a hole the size of Texas in the offer they submitted to the strategic planning committee. Made Warber look like a rookie.”
“I know him. A turdy little shit.”
“Yep.”
“Don’t you have something on him?”
“I’m not going down that road.”
“I forgot. You have class,” she mocked. “I hope they’re not gonna dig up any more dirt. We’re so close to getting what she wants in the transportation committee.”
“More dirt? Why? Were there other … incidents?”
“Not of that nature.” She chuckled dryly. “You were the only one. What can I say? You’re hard to resist.” Another chuckle. “How did it happen, anyway? One drink too many? Working one hour too late into the night like we did?”
Jordan gritted his teeth. It was exactly how it had happened, minus the drink. Working late, a hotel in another state, he had been about to leave for his room when Sharon had suddenly started kissing him. Quick and meaningless. Ten minutes. The same it had been ten years prior with Dana Brin.
Wordlessly, they had agreed to never mention it again … until Sharon had realized she was pregnant and the dates had been inconclusive. He had advised her to not disclose that she had been separated from her husband and contemplating divorce, but say that Phil had been in the family home in Colorado for his work, which was true. A few calls had verified that the hotel staff and cameras had no record of him coming out of her suite late at night. Then he had found a clinic that would conduct a confidential paternity test. Waiting out those weeks, he had realized he hated what had become of him and left the city. Sharon, too, had breathed in relief to see him gone.
Now those few minutes were back to haunt them.
“Forget all that bullshit, Dana. The Whisperers might soon get the hang of it. Everyone knows they’re more tabloid than TMZ, but if the big guns decide to follow, it’ll be a wildfire.” He took a deep breath and paced to the window, stopping to gaze at the evening sky. “In less than two weeks, I’m flying back to California and will work from there for some time. There are people there I want to come clean to. My family, my …” He bit the inside of his upper lip. He didn’t know how to term Hope. “I’m done hiding this shit from the people closest to me. It only stinks worse when it’s hidden.”
“Just make sure they don’t leak it. I know you don’t have a motive to get it out there, so just—”
“You don’t know the type, Dana. They’re not … us.” Motives, agendas. If he hadn’t been sick enough to his stomach, this would have made him so.
Though there was nothing he would like more than to separate himself from this, the new development proved that it wouldn’t be easy, that it might not even be possible. That he was still us with everything this place stood for. Would there ever come a day when he would be us with something else? Someone else?
“Seriously, Jordan, it’s unlike you. You usually smell a disgruntled assface like Dobbe from a mile away. What happened to you?”
“Can you keep a secret, Brin?” His eyes were glued again to the window. It was closed, and his outline reflected in it, but his gaze was far, hanging on to the lights that sparkled outside.
“Yes.” The excited catch in her voice reminded him of the eagerness people here had to possess secrets that could be used as a weapon later.
“I’m in love.” It was so fucking liberating to say it. He wished the first time he had said that would have been to the woman he loved, or at least to someone who could understand, like Luke, or Ava, or Libby. But it was so good to say it, anyway.
There was a moment’s silence, and then an explosion of laughter.
“Laugh away, Brin. After I finish with Warber, I’m out of here.”
“Who’s the lucky woman who was able to tame you into this?”
“The opposite of everything and everyone you know. A hope for something real.”
