ROMANCING MO RYAN (29 page)

“I have publicly denounced them. You put my denials in your article, remember?”

Nikki smiled.
 
“You really do read every word I write, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.
 
Even when I’m reading about my own lynching.”

Nikki frowned.
 
“I wish we were on the same side.”

“We are on the same side.
 
We don’t have the same philosophy, but we’re on the same side.
 
But regardless of all of that you have a job to do.”

“I asked Phil to recuse me from any future stories about you.”

“How did that go over?”

“Terrible.
 
He wanted details.
 
‘Oh, so now you’re admitting that Mo Ryan is your man?’
 
That’s how he put it.
 
I told him yes.
 
But he still turned me down.
 
He said it’s up to his discretion and he believes it’s not a conflict of interest.
 
He says if we get engaged or married, that’s different.
 
But just because you’re somebody I’ve dated before he’s not about to pull me from the story.
 
They may do a disclaimer at the beginning of all of my future stories, but that’s as far as it goes.
 
In other words, it’s not unethical yet.”

Mo smiled.

“I think the real reason Phil doesn’t want to recuse me yet is because he honestly believes that the fact that I’m your girlfriend, and I’m writing such tough material on you, helps his argument that you shouldn’t be on the Supreme Court.
 
He figures readers will see the connection and go, ‘geez, she doesn’t believe him, either.’”

Mo pulled her into his arms.
 
“Stay with the story as long as they let you.
 
The Gazette has never pretended to have anything but a liberal bent anyway.
 
As far as I’m concerned that entire newspaper is an opinion piece.
 
But at least your articles try to give my side of the story too.”

Nikki sighed.
 
“This sucks,” she said and Mo laughed.
 
And pulled her closer against him.”

And Nikki leaned closer against him too.
 
And it all felt so overwhelming.
 
As if their life, their love, felt like a Dickens novel.
 
Because it was true for them too.
 
It was the best of times, and the worst of times.

Mo kissed her again, walked her to her condo door, and got back into his Mercedes, closed his eyes to garner more strength, and then cranked up and took himself to Tallahassee.

Nikki, after showering again and changing, took herself to work.
 
She should have known something was up when Phil seemed to be in too good a mood.
 
He walked past her desk more than once, whistling some ridiculous song as he walked, staring at her like the oddball he could sometimes be.
 
And then Larry Dinkle, their managing editor, came down, went into Phil’s office, and then Phil asked, over the newsroom intercom, for Nikki to join them.

“Sit down, Nick,” Phil said.

Dinkle smiled at her as she sat in the chair beside his.
 
“Well, hello there, Miss Nikki.”

Nikki hated when he referred to her that way, but she didn’t show it.
 
He had to know this was a rough time for her.
 
“So, what’s happened?” she asked.

“Oh my,” Dinkle said.
 
“You’re far too young to be so pessimistic.”

“Nothing’s happened?”

Dinkle sighed.
 
“Yes, Nikki, something’s happened.”

Nikki remained still as a board.
 
“What?”

Dinkle hesitated.
 
“Another woman has come forward,” he said, and as soon as he said it that sinking feeling returned.
 

But Nikki was determined to remain calm.
 
“Another woman?
 
What do you mean?”
 
She knew full well what he meant.
 
But the idea of it, and what it could mean for Mo, still terrified her.
 

“Her name is Jameela French,” Dinkle said, handing her a folder.
 
“Go check her out.
 
She’s in Baker County.”

“Baker County?”

“She said she can see you this afternoon.”

“Wait a minute, Larry.
 
What’s going on here?”

“Another woman claims to have been sexually harassed by Ryan,” Dinkle said.

“Are we supposed to just drop everything and check out every crank allegation now?”

“This ain’t no crank allegation,” Phil said bitterly.

“And how do you know that, Phil?” Nikki replied with her own bite.
 
“She reads my article on Tonya Wright and Marlene Wingate, now she wants a piece of the publicity too.
 
Now she wants to derail Ryan, too.
 
And we’re just supposed to sit up here and let her
?
 
Whomsoever will, let them come.
 
The lynching of Mo Ryan is now in session
.
 
Is that what this is about?”

“That’s not what we’re doing here at all, Nikki,” Dinkle said.

“Isn’t it?
 
What would you call it?”

“It’s our job to ...”

“Lynch Ryan.”

Phil sighed angrily, but Nikki didn’t give a damn.

“It’s our job,” Dinkle went on, “to check into every credible lead.”

“But what makes this one credible?
 
The fact that this Jameela French opened her mouth and said ‘yeah, me too, he did it to me too’?”

“This one is credible because Jameela French is credible.”

Nikki looked at Dinkle.
 
What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Jameela French is a family court judge in Baker County.
 
A
conservative
, family court judge in Baker County, Nikki.
 
She’s no joke.”

Nikki just sat there.
  
A conservative judge was accusing another conservative judge of sexual harassment?
 
That was huge.
 
No longer could they claim that it was some liberals attempting to tear down a conservative.
 
No longer could there be any claims of political posturing.
 
And she was a family court judge at that?
 
Family
court judge?
 
Nikki sat mute in her chair.
 
Because it was getting crazier out there.
 
Because if ever there was a how-to book written on how to put the last nail in a brother’s coffin, this judge, this accuser number three, may very well be its author.

Jameela took a seat behind her desk and offered Nikki half of her ham and cheese sandwich, which Nikki quickly refused, and then the judge spent the next several minutes eating her lunch, drinking her coffee, and talking about Mo.
 
She mainly talked about her job as an attorney at his law firm nearly a decade ago, until she said something in such a cavalier manner that Nikki almost missed it.
 

“I was in love with him,” she said, and continued talking.

But Nikki stopped her.
 
“You were in love with him?”

Jameela finished chewing her food.
 
“Why, yes,” she said, as if it was common knowledge.

“You and Judge Ryan were lovers?”

Jameela smiled.
 
“Yes, Miss Tarver.
 
I wasn’t always a plump grandma.”

“But what I mean is, he knew that you loved him?
 
He was in love with you, too?”

Jameela looked around as if she had missed something, and then she looked at Nikki.
 
“Yes.”

“So you slept with him willingly?”

“Yes.
 
Oh yes.
 
Initially he didn’t have to harass me at all.
 
I was more than willing.”
 
She smiled.
 
Nikki couldn’t even try to smile.
 

“But you knew he was married at the time,” Nikki said as if it were a fact.

“No, that’s not true.
  
He told me he was divorced.
 
But when I found out the truth, and especially when I learned that his wife was ill, I ended the affair.”
 
She stared at a spot on her desk, as if she was remembering something unpleasant.
 
“And that’s when the trouble started,” she added.

“The harassment?”

“Right.
 
When I wouldn’t continue having sex with him, he made my life a living hell.
 
He would often threaten to fire her.
 
He harassed me to such a degree that I became physically ill.
 
So I quit a job I loved.
 
I felt I had no choice.”

“But you’re an educated lady.
 
You had choices.
 
Why didn’t you go to his boss, or even to the EEOC?”

“Number one,” Jameela said, “he was the boss.
 
It was his law firm.
 
So there was no boss to go to.
 
And the other reason was quite simple.
 
I felt some degree of culpability myself.
 
I had been his mistress, unknowingly, yes, but who was going to believe that?”

Nikki looked at her.
 
She was a shrewd woman if she was anything.
 
“Those weren’t the only reasons you didn’t tell, were they?”