ROMANCING MO RYAN (27 page)

“Are you listening to yourself?” Phil finally said.
 
“What you’re telling me is that their stories are credible, but you just don’t believe them.
 
Is that what you’re saying?”

“I don’t think there’s a story here.”

He smiled.
 
“You don’t?”

“No.”

“I never thought I’d see this day, Nick.”
 
She rolled her eyes.
 
He frowned.
 
“What kind of power does this guy have over you?
 
He’s an arrogant, obnoxious, right wing bastard.
 
He’s old enough to be your father.”

“That’s not true, Phil, and you know it.”

But Phil went on anyway.
 
“He’s gonna emasculate the lower classes once he gets the power to do so.
 
But you protect him.
 
You.
 
Of all people.
 
And you protect him against two innocent women, two victims, whose only crime is that they refused to remain silent.
 
You used to keep me going, you know that?
 
You gave me my fire back when I wanted to quit the business because nobody gives a damn anymore.
 
They’re all just a bunch of hairdos sitting around on those cable news shows calling themselves journalists.
 
But then you came along and I read one of your stories, one of your biased, judgmental as hell stories, and realized immediately that it’s still worth the fight.
 
If Nikki Tarver, if this kid can keep the faith, then so can I.
 
But what happened?”

Nikki stared at Phil.
 
Loneliness happened.
 
And it wasn’t okay anymore.
 
Love happened.
 
And she liked the feeling.
 
Happiness happened.
 
And it was full and complete and she needed it.
 
Life happened, Phil.
 
She wanted to live.
 
She wanted to know what all the fuss was about.
 
That’s what happened!

But she didn’t tell him any of that.
 
Phil was heartbroken.
 
She had let him down.
 
He wouldn’t understand.
 

“Write the story,” he ordered her.
 
“And you’d better not sugar coat it, either.”

Nikki was flustered.
 
“Larry said we wouldn’t print it if I didn’t give my okay.”

“Larry gave you the okay,” Phil admitted, “but he gave me the final word.
 
And my word is final.
 
We’re going with the story.
 
And you’re writing it.
 
And you’re dotting every I and crossing every T.
 
Now if your boyfriend is worth losing your job over, then find, get lost.
 
But with you or without you, we’re going with the story.”

It was certain now.
 
Phil was exacting his revenge.
 
Just the innuendo would be enough to derail the nomination.
 
Phil knew it and she knew it too.
 
And in the end, that was all he wanted.
 
A derailment.
 
An immediate halt to that out of date train called conservatism and that out of date train conductor named Mo.

They stood at the window in his chambers at the courthouse.
 
The sun was shining through and his perfectly chiseled face was almost unexpressive.
 
Nikki’s concern rose as she laid out the case against him.
 
He listened carefully, but more as a judge would to a defendant, than as a man about to be raked over the coals.

“They’re going with the story whether I write it or not,” she told him.

“Then write it.”

“But if you just give me something to look into, to investigate, maybe I can slow this down.”

“Just do your job, Nikki.”

“How can you act like this?
 
Don’t you understand what’s going on here?”

“Of course I understand.
 
Two women have made allegations against me.
 
It’s your job to write the story.
 
That’s what’s going on.”

“The story that you so nonchalantly suggest I write can destroy you, Mo.
 
Don’t you get it?”

“What do you want me to say?”
 
He looked at her, and for the first time since her visit she could see the pain in his eyes.
 
“I didn’t do it.
 
It’s not true.
 
It’s a pack of lies.
 
What more can I say?”

“You can stand on top of this courthouse and proclaim your innocence!
 
You can call a press conference this very hour and declare that you’re being steamrolled by a couple of attention seeking, agenda driven females!
 
You can fight back, Mo, that’s what you can do!”

“I can fight back?”

“Yes!”

“They destroy me, so I destroy them.
 
Is that how the game is played, Nikki?
 
Is that what you mean by fighting back?
 
I should play the game?
 
And this from a woman who doesn’t believe in playing games?”

Nikki sighed.
 
She knew she was a walking contradiction.
 
But she couldn’t help it right now.
 
“Yes,” she admitted.
 
“Dammit.”

“I see.
 
So you don’t practice what you preach after all.”

“This is different.”

“Like hell it is!” Mo yelled.
 
He refused to be the man who caused Nikki to lose her principles.
 
That would just kill him if that were to happen.
 
“You’ve devoted your career to stamping out racism and sexism wherever they may happen to appear.
 
But because I’m involved now, you’re just going to forget about all of that?
 
You’re going to put these victims on trial too?”

“But you said they’re lying.”

“Yes, Nikki, they are.
 
They know it and I know it.
 
But I’m not compromising my principles because somebody chooses to tell lies on me, and you aren’t going to compromise yours either.
 
Not for me.
 
Not for anybody!
 
Do I make myself clear, Nicole?”

His insolence was angering her more than the allegations themselves.
 
How could he be so smug?
 
How could he treat this monumental problem as if it were some everyday thing?
 
“Two women have said that you harassed them for dates, coerced them into having sex with you, and then fired them when your need was satisfied, and all you can say is ‘it’s not true’?”

He paused.
 
“Yes,” he said.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.
 
Didn’t he understand what position he was putting her in? She was willing to fight for a man who wasn’t willing to fight for himself.
 
She was willing to overlook facts, to bring on the fiction, if it meant sparing him.
 
All for him.
 
And he didn’t give a damn.
 

“You know what,” she said when she could hold back no longer.
 
“You’re going to get exactly what you deserve because you’re behaving like an arrogant asshole right now!”

He moved over to Nikki and pulled her into his arms.
 
She fought against it at first, but then fell against him.

“Oh, my darling,” he said as he held her.
 
“You keep your anger, and your fight, and you do whatever you have to do to be true to yourself.
 
Not to me, Nikki.
 
To yourself.
 
You hear me?”

Nikki just stood there.
 
She loved his integrity, and she hated it too.
 
But that was the story of her relationship with Mo Ryan.
 
One step forward, ten steps back.

“Yes,” she said, fighting back the tears. “I hear you.”

She walked up to the lounger.
 
He didn’t bother to look her way.
 
His eyes were fixated on the Atlantic Ocean that surrounded his backyard, the sound of gushing waves ramming against the shoreline and that jazz music of his seemingly too dramatic for peace.
 
But it was peaceful there, but lonely too, and so damn depressing.
 

When it was apparent that he wasn’t about to so much as acknowledge her presence, she sat on the edge of his lounger, near his feet.
 
She stared at the ocean too, and couldn’t help but feel the weight of her decision not only on her life, but his as well.

“I’m sorry it turned out like this,” she said.

He said nothing.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Mo.
 
I was doing my job.”

“I know,” he said.
 

She turned and looked at him.
 
He was so distraught that just looking at him depressed her more.
 
He looked at her.
 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he said.

“You still can fight it, Mo.
 
You still can refuse to let other people define who you are.”

“I had a meeting this morning, after the story broke.
 
The chief judge called me into his office and suggested, suggested mind you, that I resign.”

Nikki frowned.
 
“Based on what?
 
It’s their word against yours.
 
I made that clear in the article.”

“He suggested that I resign or face being hauled before the Judicial Conduct Board and publicly humiliated.
 
Too late, I told him.”

Nikki’s heart dropped.
 
“Are you going to do it?”

“And I refused to resign.”