Something Real
Page 48
“So, one of our journalists has this source—I don’t know who it was, of course. That’s top-secret stuff. But he brought me that recording the day it aired and he had me look into it. He wanted to make sure it was legit, because it seemed like too good of a scoop to be true. I was able to tell him when it was recorded.”
I straighten. “You were?”
“Yeah. Digital videos have information embedded in them, and I could see it was created only a couple of days before his source handed it over. But then I met Sam in person, and I started to get suspicious. He looks older now than he does in the video. His physique is even different. I suspect someone created a new file—tailored an old video of Sam and the governor to leak to the media so it would look like Sam and Sabrina were having an affair. Her hair used to be longer, didn’t it?”
“That’s a pretty hefty accusation.”
He holds out his palms. “Not an accusation, a suspicion. And one that dies with me. You have my word. I’m only bringing it up now because I want you to know the kind of people you’re involved with. The question is, who would go to the trouble to alter the video and leak it to the press? Presumably Roe’s campaign might benefit from the leak, but why change it when—if I’m correct—the original date stamp would have destroyed Guy’s campaign?”
“That’s another good question,” I say softly. But I think I already know the answer.
My phone buzzes with a text alert, and I pull it from my purse.
Sam: Don’t look at the magazines. I can explain.
But I can’t think of any explanation that will work for me. I’ve known I was playing with fire, and it’s more obvious than ever that I need to break it off with Sam.
“These people aren’t messing around, Liz, and if I know there’s more between you and Bradshaw than meets the eye, then I guarantee someone else does too. Just be careful. Please?”
“I will.”
He stands to go.
“George,” I call when he reaches the door.
“Yeah?”
I stare at the image of the man I love groping Sabrina’s ass. There’s going to be a big party at headquarters on Tuesday night as the numbers come in from South Dakota. And though Christine will be at her headquarters there, Sabrina will be here in Indianapolis. And she’ll probably have Sam by her side. My first instinct is to ask George to go with me, but after everything he’s done for me, that seems cruel. “I can’t offer you anything other than friendship right now, but I want you to know I appreciate you. You’ve been good to me.”
He smiles, a lovely, charming smile. “Any time.”
* * *
Sam
“You two make the most adorable couple,” a white-haired woman tells Sabrina and me. “You know, back in my youth, my husband and I liked to explore a little, too.” She lowers her voice. “Sexually speaking.”
Dear God. If I have to hear one more person tell me about their sex life, I’m going to fucking lose it. I don’t know what it is about having a sex tape leaked that makes people think you want details of their private lives.
“We thank you for your support,” Sabrina says. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
I spot Liz by Christine’s office and do a double take. I can never be sure it’s her. In the two days since I got back from New York, I’ve seen her on a daily basis. I spotted her at the gas station, at the gym, standing in line at the bank. Of course, it was never her. The real Liz wasn’t any of those places. She was somewhere working very hard to dodge my calls and avoid my visits. The only word I’ve had from her since we hung up on Friday night was a Saturday-morning text of I can’t do this.
I couldn’t handle not talking to her any longer, so I came to headquarters to find her, but the place is packed with staffers and volunteers all running on the high of Christine’s spike in the polls.
If Liz would just let me explain those pictures . . . not that I remember enough to explain.
“Would you ladies excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course,” Sabrina says. “I’ll be in my office. Make sure you come give me a kiss before you leave.”
I give a noncommittal smile and make my way across the room, doing my best to smile politely to everyone who greets me. Truth is, I feel like a predator. The only thing I care about is getting to Liz. The only thing I care about is having her in my arms again. I won’t be able to sleep until I prove to myself I didn’t lose her by getting trashed and falling into bed with Sabrina.
“You’re a hard woman to track down,” I say when I see her.
Liz turns around, eyes wide when she spots me. She ducks her head. “Excuse me.”
I step into her path before she can get away. I lower my head so only she can hear me. “Meet me in the conference room in five minutes.”
She flinches. “I’m working.”
“Meet me anyway.”
Her jaw tightens, and she looks left then right to make sure no one heard what I said. “Fine.”
She’s pissed. No problem. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s changing her state of mind.
I wait, watching until Liz says something to one of the other staffers and heads to the conference room. Thirty seconds later, I follow her.
When I enter the room, her back’s to me, her fingers grazing a stack of magazines on the table. As soon as I lock the door behind me, she spins, her hands on her hips.
I straighten. “You were?”
“Yeah. Digital videos have information embedded in them, and I could see it was created only a couple of days before his source handed it over. But then I met Sam in person, and I started to get suspicious. He looks older now than he does in the video. His physique is even different. I suspect someone created a new file—tailored an old video of Sam and the governor to leak to the media so it would look like Sam and Sabrina were having an affair. Her hair used to be longer, didn’t it?”
“That’s a pretty hefty accusation.”
He holds out his palms. “Not an accusation, a suspicion. And one that dies with me. You have my word. I’m only bringing it up now because I want you to know the kind of people you’re involved with. The question is, who would go to the trouble to alter the video and leak it to the press? Presumably Roe’s campaign might benefit from the leak, but why change it when—if I’m correct—the original date stamp would have destroyed Guy’s campaign?”
“That’s another good question,” I say softly. But I think I already know the answer.
My phone buzzes with a text alert, and I pull it from my purse.
Sam: Don’t look at the magazines. I can explain.
But I can’t think of any explanation that will work for me. I’ve known I was playing with fire, and it’s more obvious than ever that I need to break it off with Sam.
“These people aren’t messing around, Liz, and if I know there’s more between you and Bradshaw than meets the eye, then I guarantee someone else does too. Just be careful. Please?”
“I will.”
He stands to go.
“George,” I call when he reaches the door.
“Yeah?”
I stare at the image of the man I love groping Sabrina’s ass. There’s going to be a big party at headquarters on Tuesday night as the numbers come in from South Dakota. And though Christine will be at her headquarters there, Sabrina will be here in Indianapolis. And she’ll probably have Sam by her side. My first instinct is to ask George to go with me, but after everything he’s done for me, that seems cruel. “I can’t offer you anything other than friendship right now, but I want you to know I appreciate you. You’ve been good to me.”
He smiles, a lovely, charming smile. “Any time.”
* * *
Sam
“You two make the most adorable couple,” a white-haired woman tells Sabrina and me. “You know, back in my youth, my husband and I liked to explore a little, too.” She lowers her voice. “Sexually speaking.”
Dear God. If I have to hear one more person tell me about their sex life, I’m going to fucking lose it. I don’t know what it is about having a sex tape leaked that makes people think you want details of their private lives.
“We thank you for your support,” Sabrina says. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
I spot Liz by Christine’s office and do a double take. I can never be sure it’s her. In the two days since I got back from New York, I’ve seen her on a daily basis. I spotted her at the gas station, at the gym, standing in line at the bank. Of course, it was never her. The real Liz wasn’t any of those places. She was somewhere working very hard to dodge my calls and avoid my visits. The only word I’ve had from her since we hung up on Friday night was a Saturday-morning text of I can’t do this.
I couldn’t handle not talking to her any longer, so I came to headquarters to find her, but the place is packed with staffers and volunteers all running on the high of Christine’s spike in the polls.
If Liz would just let me explain those pictures . . . not that I remember enough to explain.
“Would you ladies excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course,” Sabrina says. “I’ll be in my office. Make sure you come give me a kiss before you leave.”
I give a noncommittal smile and make my way across the room, doing my best to smile politely to everyone who greets me. Truth is, I feel like a predator. The only thing I care about is getting to Liz. The only thing I care about is having her in my arms again. I won’t be able to sleep until I prove to myself I didn’t lose her by getting trashed and falling into bed with Sabrina.
“You’re a hard woman to track down,” I say when I see her.
Liz turns around, eyes wide when she spots me. She ducks her head. “Excuse me.”
I step into her path before she can get away. I lower my head so only she can hear me. “Meet me in the conference room in five minutes.”
She flinches. “I’m working.”
“Meet me anyway.”
Her jaw tightens, and she looks left then right to make sure no one heard what I said. “Fine.”
She’s pissed. No problem. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s changing her state of mind.
I wait, watching until Liz says something to one of the other staffers and heads to the conference room. Thirty seconds later, I follow her.
When I enter the room, her back’s to me, her fingers grazing a stack of magazines on the table. As soon as I lock the door behind me, she spins, her hands on her hips.
