The Senator's Secret Page 2

  “You’re on,” Gary said, smiling broadly. “Hey, we could encourage each other. They say it’s easier if you do it with a buddy.”

  Sam arched his eyebrows, amused, and Gary’s face flushed.

  “I’m sorry, Senator, that was really forward of me.”

  Sam laughed. “It’s fine. So if you’re going to be my quitting-smoking buddy, what’s your name?”

  “Gary Mason, sir.” He held out his hand, but Sam ignored it.

  “Oh, we’re past ‘sir’—we’ve hugged already.” Gary snickered and Sam smiled. “And it’s Sam, okay? But only when it’s just us, you got that?”

  “I got it.” Gary’s expression was still joyful. He looked down at his cigarette. “You know what? I’m not even going to finish this.” He dropped it to the ground and stubbed it out with his shoe. Then he picked up the butt and dropped it in the trashcan.

  “Seeing as you’re leading by example,” Sam said with a smile, “I shall go one better and not even light up.” Not that a cigarette wouldn’t feel great right then, but Gary’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  “Way to go, si—I mean, Sam.” The tips of Gary’s ears were bright red. He glanced toward the house. “I’d better get back to work. Someone has to call all these people and make sure you get reelected, right?” His eyes gleamed.

  Sam laughed. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that.” He patted Gary on the back. “Keep up the good work.”

  “You got it.” Gary flashed him one last smile before heading back into the house.

  Sam waited until he was alone and then drew in a lungful of clean, cold air. It was about time I quit anyhow.

  The thought of that unfinished pastry on his desk was like a siren call.

  Chapter Two

  Monday night

  SAM was in that blissful state of warm drowsiness that was usually the precursor to falling asleep on the couch. The fire had died down and now only embers glowed there. He lifted his head from the cushion and stared at the room. Something was different.

  When his phone began to vibrate its way across the coffee table, he had his answer.

  He glanced at the screen before connecting. Curtis wasn’t prone to making late-night phone calls. “Hey, what’s up?”

  A sigh filled his ears. “You need to see something.”

  Sam was bolt upright in an instant. “Okay, what’s wrong?” He recognized that tone. He didn’t get to hear it all that frequently, thank God, but there was no mistaking it.

  “Got your laptop handy?”

  Sam reached for it and flipped it open. “Yup. What am I looking for?”

  Another sigh. “Floyd Hartsell’s Facebook page. His campaign page, not his profile.”

  Sam groaned. “For God’s sake, now what?” He pulled up the page and—

  “What the fuck?”

  He was staring at photos of himself.

  To be more exact, one photo of him hugging Gary. Another of the two of them laughing and smiling. But what really caught his attention was the post that accompanied it.

  What exactly is the nature of the relationship between State Senator Samuel Dalton and one of his staff, captured in this photo taken this morning at the back of Dalton’s campaign offices? They say the camera never lies, right? What does this photo say to you?

  And maybe now we understand why the senator has been so supportive of SCOTUS’s decision last year.

  The comments below had already reached more than a hundred. Sam skimmed through them, enough so that he caught the gist: people expressing surprise/outrage/shock that their senator was a closet gay; remarks about him not being a good example to the state’s youth; comments about not being able to trust someone who hides his sexuality; and on, and on, and….

  He peered at the photos. “Where were these taken from?”

  “As far as I can make out without going to the house, they’re from the property next door, probably taken from a bedroom window.” Curtis paused. “I have to ask this. I’ve just checked up on this Gary Mason. This is the first time he’s worked for us. He’s a doctoral student, lives in Raleigh, single. Personable, good at talking to people. Any chance he’s been put up to this by Hartsell’s crowd? Because the chances of them having someone ready to take a photo when you just happened to be down there sharing a cigarette break, and he just happened to hug you? And yeah, about that….” Curtis cleared his throat. “Anything you want to tell me, Sam?”

  Sam gave a low growl. “Absolutely nothing. Today was the first time I actually spoke with the guy. And as for the hug, he’d just been accepted to vet school, and he was over the moon. It was an impulse, for God’s sake.” He recalled Gary’s manner, the way he’d spoken. “As for the likelihood that he’s a plant? Uh-uh, I don’t buy it. He seemed like a pretty genuine guy.” He scraped his fingers across his scalp. “You think he’s seen this?”

  “Ha! The only reason you’re seeing it is because Josh never stops trolling the Internet for you. He called me as soon as he saw it. So unless Gary is a fan of Hartsell, has friends who are supporters of Hartsell, or is an insomniac who can’t keep off Facebook, then no, I don’t think he’ll have seen it.” Another pause. “Did you notice that post doesn’t claim to be written by Hartsell?”

  “No, it’ll have been posted by one of his minions. He’ll be sure to keep his hands clean on this one.” Sam sagged into the couch. “So now what?”

  Curtis laughed. “Now nothing. You go to sleep. There’s nothing you can do about it at this hour. In the morning we’ll put the wheels in motion. Want to bet Josh is already on it?”

  In spite of his anxiety, that brought a wry smile to Sam’s face. “You’d win that bet.” Josh was their best find ever. Still, the thought of doing nothing…. “You sure there’s nothing I can do? I could go onto his—”

  “You are going to do nothing but get some sleep, do you hear me?” Curtis’s voice was low but firm. “Let us do our jobs, Sam, all right?”

  “I hear you,” Sam said, albeit with reluctance. “See you in the morning.”

  Curtis chuckled. “I’ll have Becky make the coffee double strength. Good night, boss.” He ended the call.

  Sam closed the lid of his laptop, his mind in a whirl.

  I do not need this!

  Being in politics was all Sam had ever wanted to do. He wasn’t in it for the fame—because hell, there were times when he wished for a life out of the media’s glare—but out of a genuine desire to do something for the people of North Carolina. He’d seen too many politicians who oozed sincerity, from whose tongues dripped all the right words, but when it came down to it? They didn’t have their constituents’ best interests at heart; they were in it for what they could get out of it.

  Sam loved it when a customer at the store would take him aside and thank him for something he’d done—a policy he’d introduced, a charity he’d supported, or a scandal he’d exposed. He loved that his neighbors felt comfortable enough to walk right up to him on the street and demand to know what he was going to do about such-and-such an issue—and that they did it because they knew he’d do something about it.

  And for Pastor Floyd Hartsell, a man who proclaimed himself a Christian, to be such a hate-stirrer, even if he hid it behind the facade of supporting traditional family values….

  Is it any wonder I’ve stayed in the closet? Sam had never wanted to hide, but he was a realist. He’d only been a senator for six years, but he’d seen enough to realize that coming out would not do him any favors. The thought that his constituents might view him differently once they knew about his sexual orientation had crossed his mind many times. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the fallout.

  Well, it looks like that ship has sailed.

  Sam had a feeling sleep was going to be pretty elusive.

  SAM stepped into the wide hallway and listened. All was quiet. He’d expected to be the first one there, but Curtis’s car was already parked out front, along with a couple of others. Then he caught the aroma that wafted down the stair
case. The coffee was on, apparently.

  He went upstairs and into his office to find it already occupied. Curtis and Josh were deep in conversation, while Becky handed them coffee before retreating into her office.

  Sam shrugged off his coat and placed it on a hanger. “Anyone going to wish me a good morning?” He knew he sounded cranky, but after a night of restless tossing and turning, with only a couple of hours’ sleep, that was to be expected.

  “I would if it were,” Curtis remarked dryly. He peered intently at Sam. “Jesus, you look like I feel.” He hollered to Becky, “Better bring in the biggest mug you’ve got, girl. Looks like we’re gonna need it this morning.”

  Becky bustled into the office, a huge mug of steaming coffee in her hand. She took one look at Sam’s face and pursed her lips. “Oh my. Here, drink this, and then we’ll decide what to do about that no-good, lying piece of sh—”

  Sam cleared his throat pointedly, and she snapped her mouth shut. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I appreciate the support, but we will not sink to his level, okay?”

  She flushed.

  Sam pointed to her office. “Now go get your iPad and be ready to take notes, because I’m sure Josh is already on the case. Right, Josh?” He gave his PR man an expectant glance as he came around to sit at his desk, coffee in hand.

  Josh grinned and handed him a sheet of paper. “You know it. This is your statement refuting his claims, ready to go. I’ve already had a call from the News & Observer, asking for our reactions before they go to press. I told them they’d have to wait for your official statement.” He gazed speculatively at Sam. “We can refute it, right, Sam? I mean, there’s no truth in it, right?”

  Sam locked gazes with Josh. “I am not now, nor have I ever been, in a relationship with Gary Mason. That clear enough for you?”

  “Gotcha.” Josh gave him a sheepish smile. “I had to ask.”

  “This really burns me, you know?” Becky piped up as she came through the door, iPad in her hand. “Does that Pastor Hartsell think he can just go around, making up shit like this?” She glared at Curtis. “He can’t go around telling everyone Sam is gay when we know he’s not!”

  Curtis’s eyes flickered in Sam’s direction before he spoke. “Only, Hartsell didn’t say that, did he?” he chided Becky gently.

  Josh snorted. “Yeah, he was real careful about how that post was worded. ‘What is the nature of the relationship…?’ And the part asking folks what that photo said to them? Inspired. His supporters come up with all the shit he wouldn’t dare say. And of course, he doesn’t comment on any of it.” He scowled. “He doesn’t need to; they went ahead and said it all for him. He gets to sit back and read it, while we’re the ones doing the weeping.” Josh stuck out his chin. “So let’s get this statement out. He won’t be so cocky when we’re suing his ass for libel and defamation of character.”

  “You sure we want to go that route?” Curtis said quietly.

  Sam fired him a look, but Curtis was avoiding his gaze.

  “Of course he does,” Becky interjected, her eyes flashing. “Sam can’t just sit here and let that… man hint that he’s… well, it’s just….” She narrowed her eyes. “You know what would cook his goose? If we announced that Sam was gay, and that he and this Gary were secretly engaged. That’d make Hartsell look like a nasty piece of work, outing Sam like that and making him look all sleazy, when they were keeping it quiet so as not to detract from the campaign.” She gave Curtis an evil grin. “Yeah, they’d look all wholesome—a sweet, cute gay couple heading for marriage, and there’s him, trying to make the whole situation seem sordid.”

  There was a stunned silence.

  Sam was the first to react. “This is not the plot from a Will & Grace episode, all right?” His head was still reeling from her suggestion.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Josh straightened in his chair, his eyes shining. “You might have something there.”

  Two heads swiveled in his direction, and from three mouths came the same word simultaneously: “What?”

  Josh was nodding, his cheeks flushed. “This might work to our advantage.”

  “Excuse me?” Sam was having a hard time dealing with this.

  “Oh, come on,” Josh said with a cheeky grin. “Coming out is fashionable these days. Everybody’s doing it—actors, athletes, singers…. Since the SCOTUS decision last year, coming out is the new black.” He waggled his eyebrows. “It’d bring you a whole heap of new supporters, Sam.”

  What the…?

  Becky was on the edge of her seat. “Yeah. Let everyone see them as a committed couple, putting their relationship on hold until after the election. They’ve not been hiding it, exactly—they just want the focus to be on politics.”

  “But—” The turn in the discussion left Sam gaping in amazement.

  Josh waved a hand to hush him. “Yeah,” he said, nodding excitedly. “I like that. We do a press conference, break the story, get public opinion on our side, sympathy for the way Hartsell has portrayed their relationship—”

  “What relationshi—”

  Becky and Josh ignored Sam, lost in their own little world. “Oh my God!” Becky put her hand to her chest. “Can you imagine? The wedding? It would be so beautiful!”

  “Wedding? What wed—”

  “We’d have lots of photos taken of the happy couple, showing their life together. We could start up a Twitter account where they send cute little tweets to each other.” Josh grinned. “Move over, Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka, Elton John and David Furnish, Ellen and Portia—they could become the gay couple of the decade.”

  “Okay, that’s enough!” Sam growled. When his staff jumped and turned to face him, he pointed to the outer door of his office. “You two,” he said, indicating Josh and Becky, “out, now.”

  Becky gave him a startled glance before lurching to her feet and scooting out of the room, Josh following her with a perplexed expression.

  Sam closed the door behind them and faced his chief of staff. “What. The. Fuck, Curtis?” He glared at his friend, his heart pounding, head aching.

  Curtis regarded him calmly. “What have I been telling you?”

  Sam stared at him, mouth open. “You… you’re not actually considering their harebrained scheme, are you?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Why not?” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “Amendment One, that’s why not! Have you forgotten that 61 percent of NC voters backed the amendment to define marriage as being an institution between a man and a woman in 2012?”

  “No, I’ve not forgotten.” That calm air hadn’t left him. “But let’s look at the figures, shall we? The population of North Carolina back then was an estimated 9.7 million. Do you know how many voters backed the amendment? A staggering 1,317,178. Only 840,802 voters opposed it. That means roughly 13 percent of the state’s population cast ballots in favor of the amendment.”

  “My point exactly!” Sam said with a triumphant air.

  “Sam, there were 6.6 million registered voters in the state. That leaves the opinions of at least three million voters unaccounted for. And times are changing. A recent Elon University Poll found 45 percent of voters supported same-sex marriage, as opposed to 43 percent who are against it.” Curtis smiled. “Josh is right. You may find yourself with a whole new set of supporters if you do this.”

  “Ah, right, I’m glad you brought that point up.” Sam folded his arms across his chest. “If I do this. There are a bunch of variables that no one seems to be taking into consideration.”

  “Such as?”

  “Have you even considered the fact that this is a lie? There is no relationship.”

  “But there could be,” Curtis said simply.

  Sam sank into his chair. “What? It takes two to have a relationship, last time I looked.”

  “And sometimes three,” Curtis added with a grin.

  Sam shook his head. “Just keep your mind on the problem we have here. Thos
e two,” he said, pointing to the door, “are already planning a huge gay wedding when one half of the engaged couple is straight.”

  “You know that for sure?” Curtis arched his eyebrows.

  “Well, no, but….” Sam struggled to maintain his composure.

  “Think about it. We’d be asking Gary to go through a marriage ceremony. He’d know it was a publicity stunt. And he’d only have to stay married to you for two to four years. That would be long enough for appearance’s sake. After that he could ask for a divorce.”

  “Why the fuck would he even agree to such a thing?”

  Curtis shrugged. “We make it worth his while. The way I figure it, he’s a student, so that means loans, tuition…. We could offer to pay off everything, leaving him free and clear of debt.” He tilted his head. “You think that might be a big enough incentive to consider this?”

  “But you know nothing about him!” Sam yelled. “For all you know, he might be in a committed relationship.”

  Curtis eyed him, that air of calm still apparent. “The personal information he filed with us says not. Of course, he could be keeping it quiet, but we’d be sure to ask that up front.”

  Sam snorted. “Well, duh, seeing as you’d be asking him to give up any chance of a personal life for how many years?” He put his elbows on the desk, his head in his hands, and heaved a sigh. “Curtis, I’m sorry, but this… this doesn’t feel right. Don’t you think that lying like this makes me just as bad as Hartsell and his supporters?”

  Curtis got up from his chair, came to stand next to Sam, and leaned against the desk. He placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder and spoke in a low voice. “Hartsell has put it out there that you might be gay. Now, while there is absolutely nothing wrong with being gay, it changes things. For one thing, if you deny it, and it comes out later that you lied, that doesn’t look good. And even if you do deny it, there are going to be people who think there’s no smoke without fire, and you’ll be under constant scrutiny.”