Domestic Affairs (22 page)

“I mean, it's no secret that Aubrey and I . . .” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “We haven't been in love for a long time, but it hasn't been something I've even thought of. The path we've been on together has taken the place of a relationship.” He seemed to be working his thoughts through out loud more than telling her about his feelings. “The truth is, we were on a demolition path before the governor's race. We had even separated for a few months.”

“Really?” Olivia didn't mean to say it so loudly, but she was caught so off guard. First of all, why was he talking to her about love at all? It was as if the whole time she had been wondering if his accidental stumble into her room had significance, he was already assuming something more. And this idea of Aubrey's relationship to him being strained . . .
No secret?
There was never even a hint of discord in the
press or even in the campaign rumor mill about their marriage.
And what did he mean by saying “it” hasn't been something he's thought of? What hasn't? What's “it”?

“Yeah. And we didn't get back together for the race. It wasn't a political decision. I think it reminded us of how we fell in love with each other originally. We had a shared ambition to take on life. When the race came up, we fell back into the comfort of having a goal we could get to together. We were great together at the job at hand.”

“You are great together,” Olivia said, correcting him.

“Yes. Yes, I know. And we got back the teamwork aspect. But the relationship, the love, didn't really come with it. I mean, the woman is perpetually disappointed in me.” He thought for a minute and added, “Well, in everyone.”

Olivia shifted, trying not to seem as uncomfortable as she was. This was out of her league on so many levels. She didn't even know what kind of ear she was supposed to be lending here. A friend, a coworker, a kid with a crush? Not that it mattered. She wouldn't know what advice to give on any of it. He continued, apparently not really looking for advice anyway.

“In fact, I sometimes wonder if the love was ever there. One time, at the start of the campaign, when we were getting back together, Barry, my trainer, who sometimes doubles as my life guru, asked what it was like when it was just the two of us alone at night. I said it was good now that we weren't arguing. We have the campaign to talk about at night now, I said. And it's true. We do. But if we didn't have that . . .” He was suddenly pensive and almost said the rest to himself. “If we didn't have the politics, I don't think we would have anything.”

“Does it maybe just seem like that because the campaign is all-encompassing? I mean, I'm sure there's something. Do you remember the things you fell in love with at first?”

This conversation couldn't be happening. For all the times she had thought about Governor Taylor's loving her, she had never considered actually hearing that he wasn't in love with his wife. Did that mean he did love her?
Shit.
Her fantasized thoughts of his loving her were smacked with a dose of reality. If he did have feelings for her, the ones she had for him, the ones she secretly hoped he had for her, what
would actually happen? She hadn't actually thought through her fantasy.
You're not supposed to think through the consequences of a fantasy! That's why it's a fantasy!
Her thoughts swirled.
What does that mean for Aubrey? They looked so happy today. The way she looked at him. Could I have gotten him so wrong? Does Jacob know?

“I do, but I can't remember any of the reasons being her as a person. God, that sounds awful aloud. It was all about who we were together.”

“Maybe that's enough. I mean, spark is overrated. Maybe the road to a common goal is a stronger force, stronger thread.” Olivia felt she had to turn this around. He had to be in love with Aubrey. That was the way things were supposed to be. The alternative left too much open. Too much to think about. Too much to handle. She felt a bead of sweat on the back of her neck. His legs, weren't moving, but they seemed to have inched closer to her.

“You believe that?”

“I don't know. Well, I guess, yeah, if I think logically about it. I think so.”

“There's a ‘but' there.”

She smiled a busted smile and let her head drop. “I'm a bad one to ask.”

“Why?”

“I am a child of the Disney princesses, you know? I'm a romantic, but that's stupid. That doesn't last. You know, there's a reason the phrase is ‘hopeless romantic.'” She crossed her legs away from him, wishing she didn't blurt out emotional things about herself like that around him. Wishing she could feel less attraction.

“Ahhh.” He grinned, interested. “Is that why you're not married?”

“It probably is. I'm still looking for my Prince Charming. But Prince Charmings are about as realistic as glass slippers. You know what would happen if I really had a pair of glass slippers? When I stood on them, they'd shatter, and I'd cut my feet.”

He smiled. “Then why are you still looking for the prince?”

“Good question!” she said. “I think my heart and my head don't often see eye to eye. My dad used to always say, ‘The heart knows reason that the mind knows nothing of.'”

He grabbed her leg and shook his head with a muttered laugh. “That is exactly what my aunt Lil used to say to me. Where did you come from? God. If this was another lifetime, not even the physics of it would stop me from finding you glass slippers that wouldn't shatter . . .”

His words trailed off at the end, almost as if he didn't mean to say it. But Olivia heard every word. Her heart rose into her throat. The intimacy was palpable and felt, to Olivia, like a tiny current of electricity running through her veins. She shook her arm in an attempt to stop it from tingling. She looked around, realizing for the first time in what seemed like hours that there were other people at the bar, other people in the world.

He followed her gaze. “Okay. It's about time I get to sleep. Jacob gets mad if I'm tired in the mornings.”

Jacob. Shit. He would kill me for this conversation. He would kill the governor. Jacob.
She felt a rush of guilt.
Does he know this side of the governor? He would have told me if he did. How am I going to keep this from him? Lock it up, Olivia.
“Yes, yes, definitely.”

They got up awkwardly. “I'm going to just check my messages.” He didn't move away from the table.

“Okay, right, yeah.” Olivia felt like she was on a balance beam.
Right, duh. We can't walk to the elevator bank together! He doesn't love his wife. He wants to find me glass slippers. Walk away.
She begged her subconscious to gain control. “Okay. Good night, Governor.”

“Night, babe.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You did a great job today. Really. Just great.”

“Thank you. Good night.”
Said that already. Okay, bye.
She walked away unsteadily. The conversation swirled through her head. Nothing about it made sense. She didn't want it to. For the first time in her life she didn't want to have the answer.

Upstairs, the alarm clock lit up her room with its red 1:21.
Four hours at the most
, she thought. It had been days since she got the coveted five hours of sleep. As she washed her face, she heard a knock. She grabbed a towel, wiping the suds from her eyes with a weird feeling that her conversation with the governor wasn't complete.

As strangely expected, Taylor stood in the doorway. Holding his jacket in his hand, his tie now open and hanging down on either side of his shirt, he smiled and his eyes locked into hers for what seemed like the millionth time of the day.

“Wrong room again?” She laughed. “You really are losing your mind!”

“Not the wrong room.” He slid past her with a smoothness contradictory to the situation. “I just forgot to ask you something.”

“What's that?” Olivia closed the door and followed him in.

The governor stood in front of her, closer than they had been even that night in the Hamptons. “Your shoe size.” He didn't drop his gaze.

“My shoe size?”

“You know . . . in case I find those glass slippers.”

Olivia struggled to find a response before the governor leaned down to kiss her. As his lips touched against hers, his arms wrapped around to her back. Without her heels, she was a good nine or ten inches shorter than him. And his grip around her sides was strong and steady.
Wait.

“Wait!” She pushed him back.

He kept his arms around her waist.

“Wait. What are we doing? We can't . . .”

“Are you saying you don't want to kiss me?”

“I mean, no. Well, no, it's not that I don't want to kiss you.” The words rumbled around in her head. What was she saying? Of course she wanted to kiss him. This was Landon Taylor. This was the fantasy.

“So kiss me.” He drew her back in. “I've been wanting to since the day I met you.”

Olivia's heart was pounding as the blood rushed throughout her body.

“Literally. Since that day at the Brinmore. I've been in a good mood since you came aboard. You can even ask Jacob.”

“I think I'll probably leave Jacob out of this one.” She laughed nervously, but it wasn't funny. She had just kissed the governor. She had crossed a line. A line she couldn't go back over. She would have to lie to Jacob. She looked down.

“Right. Yeah. Right. Okay.” He reached for her chin and lifted it
up until her eyes met his. “But, Olivia, I don't remember the last time I felt like this. It's not something you let go of.”

“It is. It is something you definitely let go of.”
I have to let go. But it's Landon. Landon Taylor. And those eyes. Do I have to?

He looked at her without missing a beat. “Not possible. You know it as well as I do.”

Olivia breathed. She couldn't even process the thoughts in her head. She wished she weren't so tired.
There's something sane to say here. I know it's there.
She scanned her list of Campaign Lessons in her head but couldn't think of anything other than flats and heels and servers.
And his blue eyes. There's definitely a lesson in them
. The governor stopped the rattling of her thoughts.

“Tell me something—if I weren't married, what would you be doing right now?”

“I think there's a chance I'd be kissing you back.” The minute the words came out of her mouth she wanted to reach into the air and grab them back.
He's married. I just kissed a married man.

“You already kissed me. And my situation—it's complicated but it's not a problem.”

“Not a problem”? “Situation”? What is his situation? God, his hair looks even softer this close.
“For who?”

“For us.”

Oh my God. There's an “us.” Stop it. I mean there couldn't be a way kissing him could be okay. Could there?

“How do you figure?”

“It is what it is.”

“I ca—” Olivia turned away from him in an effort to break his searing stare. It almost seemed like that black and yellow swirl that cartoon characters see when they're under an evil spell.
That's what this must be—a spell. I'm not this girl. I'm not. I don't kiss married men. Hell, I barely kiss any men.

He kissed her again, and she let him. It had been a while since she had been really kissed. His lips were as soft as she'd imagined they would be. But not too soft. Strong and powerful at the same time. She pulled away and again tried to escape his eyes.
My job. The job. He's my boss.
“I work for you.”

His hand gently gripped her wrist, turning her back to him. “I know. And I need you. Not just for fundraising. I need you.” Olivia felt the gulp. Why was this totally nonsensical conversation making perfect sense?

He is a good kisser.

As if he had heard her inner monologue, the governor moved in and kissed her again. Suddenly nothing mattered. Her insides went to mush, like a teddy bear whose only job was to be held.

“Liv,” he said, as if they had known each other for years, “stop thinking on this one. Just for a minute.” She wondered if he didn't know she had already just decided that thoughts were unnecessary.