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“Can’t touch us.” She pulls back to look at me. “I know what people are saying, Mick. I know the comparisons they’re making. You going after a woman like Lisa is expected. Me, not so much.”
“Dee…”
“It’s okay. I’ve stopped going on social media. But I know what’s out there. It’s hard not to let it matter, to just let it roll off. That’s what I was writing in my journal.”
“What?” I ask, my throat tight.
“To hang tough in the face of all this. To not give up my personal power or sense of worth. To believe in who I am and what we have. Those people don’t know me. They don’t know us. But I do. We’re a team and we’re going to get through this.”
I stare at her for a moment. “You’re a wonder, you know that?”
“Thanks to counseling and your love.”
“It’s all you, beauty.”
“I’m pretty sure you have something to do with it.” She smiles and pulls me down for a kiss.
Anyone who thinks Dee is less-than and can’t see the beauty that’s so obvious, is a fucking fool. I love that she’s round and soft. That arouses me immensely. But she’s also solid and strong. That arouses me too.
I settle in the space she makes for me between her luscious legs and hear her moan into our kiss. To hell with everything else tonight. Being with my wife is as close to heaven as I can get.
The next morning, while Nolanis at the courthouse filing for a subpoena and Dee is at work, Stiles arrives.
“Come in.” I step back to let him inside and close the door on the shouts from reporters. They’ve been staked outside the house for hours, anxious to get a comment from me.
Many in the mainstream media had run with the unsubstantiated online claim. Afraid they might get left in the dust of a possible scandal, they were using language, such asallegedlyandpurportedlyto cover their asses as they still benefited from the coverage.
Social media is worse. People hiding behind their screens while they lob attacks and insults about my wife without any care for who they hurt, or interest in the truth. Our passionate kiss at the gym had been a distraction for all of five minutes.
I’d met the smears with an unequivocal denouncement in a press statement and posts on all my accounts. Former teammates and celebrityfriends came to my defense. Many fans had too. But with the award gala being next Saturday and my reputation in question, the conservative board members were antsy.
Asher had assured the Chairwoman that I was close to obtaining proof that the affair was falsified. She had agreed to go to bat for me and buy more time. I don’t care about the award. But I do care about what taking it away would mean for Papa’s Kids and Cayo’s memory.
The fake story had attempted to discredit me and embarrass my wife. Anger burns through me with a thousand flames. I blow out a fuming breath and drop into the chair behind the desk.
Stiles pulls up a seat on the opposite side. “How you holding up” he asks, crossing one boot over the jean-clad knee of his other leg.
“I hate this shit for Dee. But she’s handling it better than I am. Keeping her head high. Never once doubted me.”
A trace of admiration causes the austere lines of his face to briefly relax. “Your wife is stand-up. She’s tough and has your back.”
Stiles knows of what he speaks, having seen Dee go toe-to-toe with Malcolm. That was my wife. Whether facing down my demons or ugly rumors, she did it with that warrior determination of hers.
Early in our relationship, I’d feared that I might not be able to hold on to Dee. I wasn’t sure she would stick when the going got rough. But she’s been the glue through it all. My biggest supporter and defender.
“Tell me you have something,” I ask with bated anticipation, because not knowing is driving me out of my mind.
“A little more than I did earlier. We used a device fingerprint to dig deeper into the concealed IP address of the anonymous post. It’s registered to Gavin Baxter.”
Not the name I’m expecting. “Who’s that?”
“No one as far as I can tell. He doesn’t exist. Looks like someone went to a lot of trouble to cover their identity.”
O’Malley? Malcolm? Both have motives. But posting a video where the timing could be disproved isn’t Malcolm’s style. He wouldn’t strike to merely disrupt, he’d strike to destroy. “The video sounds like O’Malley. Falsifying a story is his MO.”
“Thought of that. Got a tail on him and checked his phone records. He hasn’t made any physical contact with Ms. Manning and there aren’t any calls between them. Not ruling it out, though. We’re looking at all possibilities, including how anyone could have gotten a copy of the video. Security protocols are strict. Only the director and his two guys that monitor the CCTV room have access to any of the footage.”
“People can be bought. Lisa knew the video existed. She could have paid off someone in security to get her a copy.”
