Chapter 124

Sabrina is purposefully trying to put me on the spot, expecting me to trip up and reveal more than I’m ready to. Undoubtedly she already suspects Miles and I are intimate, and she’s just looking to confirm that bias. All it would take from me is the slightest slip.

I feel my cheeks heat up but I force that to a halt. Curling my hand into a fist, I dig my fingernails so deeply into my skin that all I can focus on is the pain.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I tell her.

“A pity,” Sabrina says, not missing a beat. “He’s really very… hot. That young, I bet he has stamina to match his handsomeness. Do you think he could go a few rounds in a row? Maybe even a few times in one night?”

She’s baiting me.

I dig my fingernails harder into my skin.

“That’s really not appropriate,” I say. “Especially since you are to be the one covering him now.”

“Yes, that’s curious, too, isn’t it?” she asked. “He had such a good rapport with you. Why the sudden change?”

“I was sick of him,” I lie. “His arrogance turns my stomach.”

Sabrina hums. I can feel her gaze on my face, searching for something.

“A shame. I find his confidence quite endearing.” She leans heavily onto one side, placing her hand on her hip. “You know, maybe I’ll approach him. See if he’s open to a physical relationship.”

This time, against my better judgement, my gaze snaps to hers.

She catches the movement and it makes her smile wide. “That wouldn’t bother you, would it, Esther? If there’s nothing between you…”

“It’s inappropriate,” I force myself to say. “Representative Hamilton does not need that kind of scandal on his campaign.”

“No, I suppose he doesn’t.”

I don’t want to hear anymore. The raging hot jealousy pulsing inside of me is hard to ignore. If I say one more word to this woman, I’m going to reveal more than I want to.

I’ve already said too much, showed too much.

Sabrina might not have full confirmation but I’ve definitely heightened her suspicions.

I don’t stay to make things worse for myself. Instead, I open the door and see myself out into the hall.

Sabrina follows along behind me. She never had to use the bathroom at all, it seems.

She doesn’t say one more word to me, just keeps her steps in line with mine. When we reach the edge of the cubicle pit, she goes her way and I go mine. I walk by Kimberly’s door just as Kimberly walks out of it.

“Sabrina!” Kimberly calls.

Sabrina is still standing and turns to her. “Yes?”

“Head down to Hamilton campaign headquarters. We just received word. Representative Hamilton is giving a press conference in an hour.”

Sabrina immediately hops to it, a sudden pep in her step. “On it, boss.” She grabs what she needs from her cubicle, then heads to the elevator.

After she passes us, Kimberly gives me a knowing look.

I swallow hard as I sit down at my desk.

An hour later, everyone watches on their computers and phones as Miles steps up to a podium in his campaign headquarters. He smiles easy enough, but I can see the bags curling under his eyes.

“How is everyone doing this afternoon?” he asks.

“Cut to the chase, Miles!” one of the reporters calls. “We saw the photo of Esther Owens. Do you confirm or deny that the man in that photo is you?”

“You don’t even give me time to read my statement, do you?” Laughing, Miles crumbles the paper on top of the podium into a ball and tosses it over his shoulder.

The reporters laugh.

“Look, Esther Owens is a damn good reporter and a friend of mine,” Miles says. “But we are not lovers. I’m sorry. You know how much I hate to disappoint everyone.”

“Representative Hamilton, you must admit the resemblance is uncanny!” That sounds like Sabrina.

“In that case, Ms. Owens must have very good taste,” Miles jokes. More people laugh. “But really, guys. Let me give it to you straight. There isn’t a story here. Esther Owens has a sex life. Is that newsworthy? It seems like it’s her own damn business.”

Reporters start shouting out questions.

Miles doesn’t really listen to any of them. “That’s really all I had to say. Sorry to make you come out just for that. Have a safe drive home.”

With that, he turns away, and the press conference is over.

“That’s pretty definitive,” someone in the office says.

“Think we was lying?” asks someone else.

“Hard to say.”

“If it’s just Esther… I guess there really isn’t a story there.”

“Do you think she can help me meet guys?”

I listen, half-relieved that Miles’s statement seems to have gotten most of them to cool off of their suspicions of me. Hopefully, this will reflect with other reporters and news sources too, and they’ll stop camping out my house. My children need to go back to school.

The other half of me, the side that I am most ashamed of, is the side that is absolutely heart-shattered by Miles’s words.

We aren’t lovers. He wasn’t lying. But God, it hurts. It hurts.

I can’t cry in this cubicle. If I do, everyone will know the truth.

Instead, I pick up my phone and dial Hugo, the one source of comfort I have left. The man who said he would be here for me when the sadness felt like too much to take on alone.

He answers my call right away. “Esther?”

“Are you busy?”

“I was expecting you. The door’s open.”

After hanging up the phone, I take a moment to breathe deeply, contorting my features back into some semblance of emotionless dignity. I can’t give anything away, on my walk to Hugo’s office. Though hopefully my co-workers can forgive some measure of dismay. After all, it’s still my love life being dragged all over the news.

After pulling myself together as much as I can, I force myself to my feet and walk toward Hugo’s office. Whispers quiet as I walk by, only to immediately pick up again behind me.

At Hugo’s office, I knock on the open door.

“Come in,” he calls.

I step inside, then close the door behind me.

Hugo gestures to one of the chairs. He already has a box of tissues set up there at the edge of his desk.

On shaky legs, I cross the room and collapse into the chair.

I don’t want to cry so I close my eyes. A few lone tears still escape from under my eyelids.

Hugo comes around from the back of the desk to sit in the seat beside mine. He plucks one of the tissues from the box and hands it to me.

Sniffling, I dab at my eyes. I’m embarrassed, having this reaction, especially in front of my boss. But Hugo has always been kind to me. Because he’s been such a good friend, I know I can depend on him now.

“I need your help,” I say.

“Anything,” he replies.

Looking up at him, I say, “I want to release a statement denying that person in the photo is Miles.”

Gently, Hugo rests his hand on my knee. Knowing he’s averse to touching women, I appreciate the gesture immensely.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “Miles’s statement alone might be enough…”

“I want my own,” I tell him. Lowering my hand, I place mine over his on my knee.

He doesn’t pull away. “Okay.”