The Candidate's Affair (23 page)

“You’ve thought a lot about this.”

“I have. Ever since I left the coffee shop, I’ve been trying to figure out how to make this work. I don’t know how to make the things happen that have to happen, but I know you can. We can do this together.”

“And you want her to live with us? This is something you want?”

I nodded. “I do.”

“But every time I ask you about having a baby, you try to change the topic. Has that changed too?”

“That’s different.” I shifted in my seat.

“I don’t see how. You’re telling me we’re going to raise this girl together, bring her into our home and become her parents. Why not start our own family?”

“We have a long campaign ahead of us. I can’t think about getting pregnant now. What if I have morning sickness and I’m supposed to go to a luncheon, or I need to give an interview but I’m throwing up? It would never work. After you’re governor seems like better timing.”

He tucked a flyaway curl behind my ear. “If you’re pregnant, I won’t ask you to do any of that stuff. I’ll take care of you.”

“You act like it’s simple. A baby changes everything.”

“It does. We would always have a piece of you and me. You know what having a baby with you means to me.”

I nodded. I had been resistant to this discussion for over a year. “I do have my appointment tomorrow.” I looked into his eyes, knowing this was the one thing he had always wanted from me.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me. His tongue darted in and out as if we were kissing for the first time, discovering each other’s lips, and the newness of how we tasted. He pushed me back onto the chaise, straddling my chair.

His hands coasted over my breasts and my hips. I nipped at his neck. “I don’t think we want pictures of this online,” I warned. “There’s probably a reporter in the sea oats, ready to sell this for millions.”

“I could think of worse things.” He smiled.

“Pax, tell me we can take Corinne.” He had a way of distracting me. I could feel the fight in me waning as he heated my body with his tongue and hands.

“Audrey, tell me we can try for a baby.”

And there it was. A negotiation. A trade. One child in exchange for another. Although, it didn’t feel that way when he was canvassing my body with kisses. I didn’t see it when he was telling me how much he wanted me to be the mother of his children. I didn’t recognize the play he had just made.

The next day, at my yearly exam, I had my IUD removed. I called Becky and told her the terms of the adoption. Either way, Pax and I were going to be parents.

I
wasn’t comfortable speaking in front of large crowds. Children were a different story. I smiled at the little faces gathered at my feet. Today was my first press event reading to a group of kindergarten students in Greenville. It was the first of a statewide reading tour I agreed to do.

I wasn’t cut out for impassioned speeches or hosting ladies luncheons. Pax said there were other ways to play up my strengths. There was always a blogger and photographer from the campaign with me wherever my public appearances were, but today the back of the class was filled with newspaper and TV journalists from the local affiliates.

I smelled the crayons and the chalk. Watched the fluorescent lights flicker overhead. Noticed the teacher had arranged the children’s desks into pods. The bell rang and I cleared my mind. I couldn’t let the past creep back in. Not now.

I cleared my throat and grinned at my audience. “Who wants to hear about the little girl who met a leprechaun?” I asked.

All their hands went up in the air.

“This is one of my favorites. Let’s all turn up our listening ears.” I waited for them to grab the imaginary cranks on their ears.

I opened the first page. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Caliope.”

After the story, I posed with the students and the teachers. I signed a few autographs and smiled when the teachers asked if they could post pictures of us together. It was what Pax wanted—the teacher vote.

My security escort walked me back to the bus in the school parking lot. I told him I was going to lie down until the next stop. I shuffled to the bedroom and latched the flimsy lock on the door.

I peeled the silk jacket off my shoulders and stepped out of the skirt. I would never have worn something like this to teach in. It would have been ruined by the end of the day, coated in finger paint or mud from the playground.

The school tour was set for the next month. Somewhere between fundraising, stumping, and interviews, Pax was going to meet me on the tour. I felt the bus jerk forward and I sprawled across the bed, wondering if we would ever share it. So far, we seemed to be circling opposite ends of the state.

I crawled into bed, pulling a sheet to my waist. They were the highest thread-count Todd could find. Campaign money draped over my hip. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it off the nightstand.

“Hey.”

“How did it go? I got a few of the pictures from Todd on my phone.” Pax sounded excited. “I want these everywhere. On every station. Every newspaper in the state.”

Did I tell him the sadness had consumed me for a second? That I almost wanted to sink into my old routines and wallow in it?

“It was great. They loved the story about the leprechaun.” I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest.

“Looks like they loved you. It’s exactly what people need to see.”

“I’m glad I could help.” I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling.

“I know you’ve got the school tour, but would you be up for a dinner tomorrow night?”

“What kind of dinner?”

“It’s black tie. It’s being thrown by one of my biggest supporters. You remember, Montgomery Porter, don’t you?”

I had met the Porters at a golf tournament over the summer. His wife was the kind of woman who never aged. Flawless skin, hair, and nails. I had felt dowdy and drab next to her, and she was easily twenty years older than me.

“Of course. I know who he is.”

“Good. So, it’s black-tie. You need something sexy, but don’t overdo it. This group isn’t that liberal.”

“I don’t have any clothes like that with me. I’m on the bus, Pax.” The closet was stocked with press appearance wardrobe, and I had crammed in yoga pants in the dresser.

“Stop somewhere. You need something stunning.”

I huffed. “It’s not that easy. I’m traveling across the state. I don’t even know where a mall is and I’m on a bus.”

“God, Audrey. Can’t you just take care of this for me? Never mind. I’ll call Todd. He can shop for you. Just show up in a damn dress and a smile.”

I told myself it was the pressure from the campaign, the hundreds of people asking him for things, demanding his time and energy.

“Pax…I-I…” I never made him mad. “I’m sorry. I can figure it out.”

“Good.” I heard someone interrupt him in the background.

“I’ll text you the information. Have someone drive you there.”

“Where is it? I don’t even know what city?”

He groaned. “I said I’ll text it.”

“Ok,” I replied meekly. I had done something to set him off.

“I’ll call you later.”

He was busy. He was overwhelmed. He was important. I tried to resume my nap, but all I could think about was how I had disappointed Pax.

The dress was deep purple. So deep, it almost appeared black if you didn’t study it. I thanked the driver as he pulled up in front of the country club. I had to drive two hours from the last school stop to meet Paxton in Beaufort.

He greeted me at the top of the stairs, nodding as dinner guests walked past him.

“You look gorgeous.” He kissed me on the cheek and guided me inside, his hand pressing on my lower back.

“You’re ok with the dress?”

“It’s perfect on you. You’re perfect.” He growled in my ear.

The hair on my arms stood up, my heart raced. “I don’t like how our call ended yesterday, Pax.”

“I know. I know.” He hung his head. “I’m under a lot of pressure and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair. Forgive me?” His eyes pierced through the hurt I had been feeling.

I nodded.

“Do you think we could do some appearances together? I’m getting kind of lonely on that bus. I don’t think it’s good for us to spend so much time apart.”

He held the dining room door for me.

“I’ll see what we can work out. I miss you too.” He grinned at one of the contributors. “We’ve got to get in there. They’re expecting me to speak before dinner.”

I smiled. I knew he wouldn’t let me be alone.

“And what about after the dinner?” I followed him to the table draped in white linen at the front of the ballroom.

He turned to whisper in my ear. “I was going to fly out tonight. I have a breakfast in Greenville in the morning.” I pretended to stick out my bottom lip. “But I think I can have Todd rearrange my morning. I need you tonight.”

The words made my skin prickle. “And I guess we can’t skip this dinner?”

Montgomery and Chantal Porter walked up to us, and I took a slight step back from Paxton.

“Paxton. Audrey. So good to see you two tonight.” Mrs. Porter planted a kiss in the air next to my cheek.

“You too, Mrs. Porter. It’s a beautiful dinner.” I turned to her husband as he clasped my hand.

“Monty, again I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for my campaign.” Pax slapped the man on the back with gusto.