He entered my office, arms spread, palms up, a man certain of his importance. I looked forward to ruining that.
“Lucian, old friend. We should have done this in Atlanta. I was in my shirtsleeves on the golf course two days ago,” Trip said, heading straight for the decanter of bourbon I kept on a side table. He poured himself a glass and gestured toward me with it. “Want one?”
“No thanks, Trip. I’m afraid our meeting won’t last long enough for you to finish that.”
“Now what’s this all about?” he asked affably as he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“You’re not going to run for the Senate. In fact, you’re not going to run for reelection. You’re going to resign your position and scurry out of the spotlight like a cockroach on a kitchen floor.”
“I beg your pardon?” His knuckles whitened against the glass.
I got out of my chair and rounded my desk. “When we came on board, you assured me there weren’t going to be any problems, any dirty little secrets. Do you remember that?”
Trip swallowed reflexively. “Of course. I gave you my word. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’ve been nothing but—”
“I’m going to stop you there, Trip, because if you lie to my face, this will get ugly. And I don’t have time for ugly.” I handed over the folder Lina had prepared in record time.
The glass slid from Trip’s hand.
I caught it before it hit the ground and placed it on my desk with a hard clink. “I see I have your attention.”
“How… Why?”
The bravado, the confidence was unraveling faster and faster now.
“You do know who I am, don’t you, Trip? You understand how serious I am about protecting my clients while paving their way into history. Can you really be that stupid to think I would take you at your word? I protect my investments…even from themselves.”
“I have a wife, daughters.”
“You should have thought of them before you hired two sex workers in less than twenty-four hours.”
He was visibly shaking now.
“I warned you what would happen if you crossed me,” I reminded him.
“I didn’t cross you. This isn’t what it looks like,” he sputtered.
“The girl you hired this morning? She turned eighteen last week. Your oldest daughter is what? Sixteen?” I asked.
“I-It’s a sex addiction. I’ll get help,” Trip decided. “We’ll keep it quiet, I’ll get treatment, and everything will be fine.”
I shook my head. “I see it’s not sinking in yet. You’re finished. There’s no way for you to throw yourself on the mercy of the court of public opinion, because they’ll eat you alive. Especially seeing as how you missed the vote on veterans benefits because you were paying to have your cock sucked.”
Little beads of sweat dotted his forehead.
“You threw it all away because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. Your career, your future. Your family. Your wife will leave you. Your daughters are old enough that they’ll hear every salacious detail of Daddy’s extracurricular sex life. They’ll never look at you the same again.” I nodded at the open folder in his lap. “I’ve already had a press release drafted about how my firm was forced to sever ties with you after learning about your sexual exploits.”
He closed his eyes, and I had to turn away when his lip began to tremble.
“Please. Don’t do this. I’ll do anything,” he begged.
He was yet another weak, pathetic addition to the long list of men who risked everything just to get off.
“I’ll give you a choice. You’ll resign from Congress immediately. You’ll go home and tell your wife and daughters that you had an epiphany and that your time together is precious. You don’t want to work a job that keeps you away from them so much anymore. You’ll go to fucking therapy. Or you won’t. You’ll save your marriage or you won’t. One thing you won’t do is ever cheat on your wife again. Because if you do, I’ll deliver copies of every photo and every video to your wife, your parents, your church, and every member of the media between here and fucking Atlanta.”
Trip put his head in his hands and let out a broken moan.
I almost wished he’d put up more of a fight, then smothered that feeling.
“Get out. Go home, and don’t ever give me a reason to share the information I’ve collected.”
“I can be better. I can do better,” he said, rising from the chair like a puppet on strings.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said, leading the way to the door.
He was weak. No one could build a foundation on weakness.
I opened the door and held it. Trip walked through, eyes down.
“I was just bringing Ms. Chandra to you, sir,” Petula said.
Trip looked up, defeat fully settling over him as his shoulders hunched.
“What a small world, Trip,” Sheila Chandra said with the honeyed tones of Georgia. She looked back and forth between me and my ex-client.
“Sheila is going to be running for the seat you’re so graciously vacating, Trip,” I said. “I’m glad we can count on your support.
Trip shot me a parting look with red-rimmed eyes and said nothing as he marched out of my office.
Sheila turned to me, eyebrows high. “I think I’m gonna need an explanation…and a drink.”
A knock at my office door dragged me out of my never-ending inbox. I looked up to see Lina on the other side of the glass. It was after six. The city outside my windows lit up the night sky. Most of the staff had gone home for the day, but I still had hours of catching up thanks to my time in Knockemout.
I gestured her inside.
“Is it done?” I asked, firing off the reply and opening the next message.
“Yes.”
“Good. Get out. I’m busy.”
She ignored the command and dropped down in the chair across from me. “How did it go with Chandra?”
I took off my reading glasses, resigning myself to an unwanted conversation.
“Fine.” The woman had accused me of Machiavellian-level manipulations, which I took as a compliment. Then she’d insisted on taking some time to consider my proposal that would have her taking Trip’s seat before making the run for higher office. The fact that she didn’t immediately jump at my offer assured me I’d made the right decision. She’d poll higher with younger voters, do more for her constituents, and wouldn’t fuck around with a golden opportunity like her predecessor had.
She would see my offer for what it was: a chance to finally do the work she’d always wanted.
“What’s your end game?” Lina demanded.
“That’s an awfully personal question for someone who doesn’t officially work for me.”
“Humor me. Today alone, you forced one of your own clients to resign the seat that you won him and made him do the walk of shame past the replacement you personally chose. Then you had me deliver an envelope full of cash to a sex worker who looks like she’s barely old enough to vote and opened the door of a very expensive, gated home in Georgetown.”
“Is there a question in there?”
“I ran the address,” she said, pausing to admire the engagement ring on her left hand.
Of course she had. “Is there a point to this?”
“It took quite a bit of digging. But it appears that that big, beautiful brick house in the nice, quiet neighborhood is a halfway house for victims of domestic abuse and sex trafficking. It also appears to be owned by Yoshino Holdings, a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of this very consulting group.”
It was annoying how good she was at her job.
“I’m still waiting for your point,” I said.
“I can’t tell if you’re a good guy or a bad guy.”
“Does it matter?”
She looked me straight in the eye. “I think it does to both of us. Are you just making power moves to remind people you’re a big, strong man who needs to be feared? Or are you moving pieces around on the world’s biggest chess board for the greater good?”