“If you don’t go, I’m going to call someone to get you out of here,” Lola warns.
Scooting back from the table, I just want this to end with as little drama as possible. I don’t want anyone called, I don’t want a scene made. I just want to lick my wounds in peace.
I turn the corner of the kitchen and see him looking over Lola’s shoulder. His eyes are wide, his blue tie hanging haphazardly off to one side. His hair is a wild mess like he’s been running his fingers through it.
The sight of him twists my heart, but I have to stay strong.
This is the man that just fucked me over.
“What?” I asked, gathering as much anger as I can.
He storms by Lola, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I take a step back before he reaches me and place my arms across my chest.
“Alison, let me explain.”
“Talk,” I instruct. “You have about three minutes to say your piece and then you’re leaving.”
His hands look like they want to reach for me, his lips twitch to kiss me. He fights himself not to whisk me in his arms, but he doesn’t.
“I don’t know where to start,” he admits.
“How about the little article in the paper from your people that basically makes me out to be a pathetic, needy little gold digger.”
“It doesn’t do that!”
“No, it does. The entire article is slander!” The tears fill again and I blink back the red hot liquid. “I can’t believe you allowed that!”
“I didn’t,” he insists. “I had no fucking idea Nolan was authorizing that. We were supposed to say I’m involved with a woman with a kid and to respect our privacy.”
He gulps, his eyes begging me for forgiveness. It’s heartbreaking . . . or would be if I weren’t so angry.
“Don’t think you can throw that out there and have me back down,” I say, glaring at him. “You just completely embarrassed me, having my name, my history in people’s mouths! People will be talking about me in depth now because of you.”
“Would you rather have snuck around and stolen minutes and hours with me here and there? Would you rather have looked over your shoulder for someone to take your picture?”
“No! I would rather have you just say what you said you were going to say!” I cry. “And then you say it at the moment this other article comes out? Tell me that’s not convenient for you.”
“Alison . . .” He takes a few steps towards me, reaching for me.
I nod my head with a fury burning inside. “You just used me. I’m not a chess piece, Barrett—”
“You’re right,” he cuts me off. “You’re the damn board.” He shakes his head, looking defeated. “Right now, every move I make has you in the back of my mind. What happens between us if I win? What if I lose? How does this affect you? When can I see you again? Should I send you flowers? How can I make Huxley like me more than Lincoln?”
“He’s way hotter than you,” Lola interjects, making us both jump.
“Lo,” I sigh as Barrett glares at her. “Can you go? Please?”
“Are you sure? Because I’ve bounced people from events before.”
“I’m sure,” I say.
She shrugs and tosses her purse over her shoulder. “You just ruined the best thing that ever happened to you, you rich asshole.” And she’s gone.
The room seems to get smaller without Lola around. The air bubbles between us, like it always does, but maybe more heated because of the friction swirling around.
My mind is still reeling from the articles, from Barrett showing up here in the middle of the day when I know he has other things to do. I can’t figure out how to see straight.
“I had no idea that story was going to break,” he says earnestly. “I swear to God I about died when I saw it—next to the other article, no less.”
“But you knew there was a chance of it? You knew this existed?”
He nods slowly.
“But that little blip of your reputation had nothing to do with you wanting to use me to solidify that very thing in the media, right?”
“No, it didn’t. I swear to you.”
“This conversation, of me wondering if you just used me, is part of why I hesitated to do this. And I told you that, made it very clear, this is what I was fearful of!”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about!”
“You’re not a stupid man, Landry,” I snort. “Drop the act. Stupidity is the first thing I’ve found that doesn’t look good on you.”
He throws his hands in the air. “Alison, this is my mistake.”
“You’re damn right it is. But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow!”
“What do you want me to do?” he asks, tugging at his hair. “I don’t know how to fix this, Alison.”
“You can’t. Don’t you get it? The damage is done. You let this happen.”
“I didn’t. Nolan did, and trust me when I tell you he got his ass ripped twice by me already today. He was never authorized to put that information out there, and I’m considering firing him over it. I just can’t do that this close to the election.”