The Candidate (Romantic Suspense) (The Candidate Series) (16 page)

Ben had never been higher. Despite the hardball politics going on between Andy and Talbot, despite the dirty tricks and maligning gossip, the latest polls no longer showed Andy neck-to-neck with the vice president but firmly in the lead. 

Even some of Talbot’s stalwart donors were seeing the light and were now lining up behind Mansfield—just in time for the start of the primary season.

Best yet, the last month with Maddy had also been wonderful. So for sure her answer would be yes. Despite her recent peevishness, which seemed to come right out of the blue, even during their most mundane conversations. 

And despite the way she teared up now at the drop of a hat, particularly after lovemaking.

Ben was no dummy. He knew those were the little hints women used when they thought it was time that the guy popped the question. Of course she was upset he hadn’t done it before now. So yeah, it was time to take things up a notch...

Silently he checked off the items he’d planned for the big night. Dinner at CityZen; perhaps the tasting menu, accompanied by champagne. Then right before midnight, they’d finish up with a cocktail at the Sky Terrace in the Hotel Washington, just in time to see the midnight fireworks—

And that’s when he would pull out the ring: a platinum band embraced in a cluster of diamonds. He remembered how it caught her eye as they had strolled by the window of Tiffany’s in Chevy Chase.

After the fireworks, he was taking her to the Hay-Adams, where he had secured the presidential suite for their own personal fireworks—

Perfect.

What woman
wouldn’t
say yes? 

But first things first. Later that evening he’d call her, to see when she wanted to meet him at his place. 

Chapter 37

Smith’s man, Charlie, had no problem stealing a uniform from one of the two approved maintenance subcontractors allowed to service planes at that particular airport. The electronic gate key got him in with no hassles. But just in case anyone was around to ask questions, he dummied up a fake Airworthiness Directive and stuck it in his back pocket so he’d have it to wave under the alert bastard’s nose, if need be.

 The plane was located in one of the newer, larger hangars at the end of the third row, the one closest to the runway. The swipe card that opened the hangar’s manual double door had already been coded to open on command. Once he was inside, he closed the door behind him.

 The job was a piece of cake. First Charlie loosened a bleed clamp in the pressurization system, but just enough to ensure that, forty minutes into the flight—by the time the plane reached an altitude of 26,000 feet or so—the outflow valve would pop off. When that happened, the cabin would decompress immediately, and all hell would break loose.

 Next he replaced the emergency oxygen tank with an identical one that was filled with nitrogen instead.

The pilot’s emergency procedure was predictable. First he’d put on his oxygen mask, and instruct any passengers to do the same. Then he’d radio the tower for an emergency descent, and switch the transponder to the MAYDAY signal: SQUAWK 7700. If he was really quick, he might even have time to put power all the way back to idle, and pull out spoilers—

Before the toxic gas flowing into his lungs asphyxiated him. 

Of course, if the pilot’s body were to stay intact—fat chance of that, considering that the plane’s angle would be steep upon impact—the amount of the gas found in his lungs would be too negligible to raise suspicions among the NTSB investigators.

In other words, the cause of the crash would stay a mystery.  

Personally, Charlie hoped there wouldn’t be too many passengers onboard. As a former flyboy himself, nothing annoyed him more than the media’s endless ruminations about the amount of fatalities caused by “pilot error.” 

Then again, this time around he’d hate for them to suspect the truth. 

Chapter 38

Ben worked until seven that evening. Even the campaign workers who hadn’t already taken off to their home states had already left the office. Holiday lethargy kept the campaign momentum from moving into full swing. But Ben’s family was Maddy, and he knew her work habits: she’d still be welding on her latest statue long into the night. 

By the way she answered the phone, distant and annoyed, he knew something was wrong. 

Immediately he began stuttering like a schoolboy, but he did get out the words “New Years Eve” and “dinner reservations” before she interrupted him. “Look Ben, I’ve been meaning to say something for a while now–”

Oh, crap. 

Her tone of voice was the dead giveaway. He thought his heart would burst because it was beating so fast, waiting for whatever it was she was about to throw his way—

“I’ll just come out and say it.” She paused for what seemed like an eternity before saying the one thing he dreaded hearing:  “I’m sorry Ben. But it’s over.”

 “What? Are you crazy?” 

“No. Just...bored.” 

Bored. With him. The thought stunned him into silence.

It was her turn to fill the void. She did it with a sigh. “You know what they say: It was fun while it lasted. But now it’s time for…for a clean break. It’s my very own New Year’s resolution. Sorry, bad joke. Look, seriously, I’ve got to go–”

Just like that.
Finito...

No way. 

He had to hear it from her in person. If she saw him–broken, in pain—well then fuck it, okay if he got down on his knees...

Yes, he was even willing to
grovel
like some pathetic little schoolboy¬. Then maybe she’d change her mind.

He grabbed his coat and computer satchel and ran out the door, but he didn’t get far. He slammed into a solid wall of humanity: Fred. 

Remotely it registered in Ben’s mind that something was terribly wrong, out of context: this sluggish bear of a man who epitomized nonchalance, was now swift and anxious. 

“Is Andy here?
Quick—
”

Taking Ben’s stunned silent shrug as a no, Fred pushed a large unlabeled manila envelope into his hand. 

“Well, see that he gets this, okay? Tell him it’s what he’s been looking for. Tell him that—
that the Flamingo has landed
.’” 

Then he disappeared, as if into thin air. 

Fucking spook! I don’t have time for his games. I’ve got to get to Maddy’s...

Ben was still fumbling with his belongings when the elevator opened. As always, Fred was long gone. Like a good spy, he had taken the stairwell instead. 

Chapter 39

Ben got to Maddy’s place just in time to catch her walking out the door. She had her coat on, and her hands were full with her hat, gloves, a bulky purse, a large ring of keys, folders and envelopes—

—And a bright red suitcase.

Seeing it stopped him cold in his tracks. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Away.” She stood there, waiting to see if he’d move out of her way. When he didn’t, she sighed and moved forward. 

He barred the door with his arm. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask with whom, but the words stuck in his throat.

He didn’t have to ask. She read the jealousy in his eyes. “
Alone
, Ben. I’m going alone. I swear.” 

He didn’t believe her. And from the smirk on her face, the one that proved she thought he was a loser, he then knew she couldn’t have cared less. 

So she’s seeing someone else. She’s probably been seeing him all along.

The Invisible Man
. 

He had been played. Used. He wanted to hit her.
Hard
—

Instead he pulled her down onto the floor as if she were an animal, hoping to make her feel just as hated and as humiliated, just like him. 

Or to want him again. Because only he knew what she loved. So yes, he was going to give it to her, right there and now. 

He knew she loved the way his mouth tore into hers, and the way his fingers snaked up her thigh until they found what they longed to stroke her: hot and moist, there under her skirt—

She slapped him, backhanded across the mouth. The pain wracked his head. They both lay there, panting. 

“Fuck it, Ben! Don’t you get it? We’re over! And you know what?
I’m relieved!
I could never love you—not in the same way. Don’t you see that? Quit being so—so...pathetic.”

Her words burned through his brain, dropping like hot coals down into his heart. It stopped him cold.

Slowly she moved out from under him. The pity in her eyes was what kept him from stopping her, from killing her right then and there.

 Pathetic. 

Because of you. You fucking bitch.

Maddy pulled herself together again, grasping for the things that had scattered around them in their tussle. “Look, I’ve got a long drive ahead of me—”

Fogged by his anger, slowly he picked up the things he had dropped—his keys, his coat, the envelope—and staggered out the door after her.

But when he got into his car, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—drive away. Instead he waited. Was she truly going alone? Or would someone pull up any moment and drive her away?

No, she was alone in her car when it careened from the curb. He waited until a bus passed, then pulled out, too, keeping her within sight. He couldn’t shake the urge to go after her, to beg her forgiveness, to assure her that he knew she hadn’t meant what she said—

But deep down inside Ben knew it was useless to pretend otherwise. 

He watched as she turned onto the Roosevelt Memorial Bridge, but he didn’t follow her. Instead, he drove past the exit, and circled home. 

Chapter 40

Work. There was always work to do, to keep his mind off of Maddy.

Granted, because the whole world seemed to be on holiday, things had slowed to a crawl. Still, the first week of January was only a few days away, and with it came the Iowa caucus.

He flipped open his computer. Staring him in the face were files on the latest poll stats, the new speechwriter’s handiwork, the volunteer rolls, next month’s budget...

Good. Anything to keep my mind off that bitch...

It wasn’t until eleven o’clock that night that he realized he had never delivered Fred’s envelope to Andy. 

Damn it!
The Maddy debacle had knocked him for a loop. Frantically he looked around for the envelope. Where was it? Oh yeah, there, where he’d dumped his coat and his keys...

As always, Andy would be flying his own Cessna Mustang, taking it out of Manassas Airport. Ben could still catch him if he hurried.

The traffic was light enough that he made the forty-mile trip in the same amount of minutes, record time for that section of Interstate 66. There was only one very sleepy guard at the airport’s security gate. Recognizing Ben, he waved him in. 

Ben drove right up onto the tarmac. Andy was already in the cockpit, waiting for clearance onto the active runway. Abby was there too, in casual wool slacks, a white wool car coat, and her hair pulled back under a white French beret. A white suitcase was behind her seat. 

Her hand was in Andy’s, who was kissing it gently when he noticed Ben watching them. Just then Abby looked up, too—

Both froze. Their smiles slowly dissolved into blank stares. Abby, obviously upset, adjusted her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose as she turned away from Ben. 

He was shocked at her chilliness. 

I guess they’re embarrassed because I caught them in such a tender moment...

Or maybe Andy told her about Maddy and me. Fuck it. If he wants to fire me, so be it.

But Andy said nothing. He didn’t smile at him, either. Good. Business as usual. 

What was it that Fred asked him to say? Oh yeah: “Flamingo,” Ben muttered as he handed the senator the envelope. 

Andy’s stare hardened and he gave Ben a curt nod. He turned his back on both Abby and Ben as he stuck the envelope in his metal attaché case and stowed it under the seat. All the while, Abby pointedly looked away from Ben. 

Yeah, well, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you, too.

On the drive back to Washington, Ben detoured into the Metro Center. He had heard some of the younger staffers talking about the POV Rooftop Terrace and Lounge, at the W Hotel. There were plenty of fish in the sea, and plenty of women looking to get laid—hell, especially on a cold, lonely week off. 

Well, right now he needed some fun. And he needed to get drunk. So fuck Maddy. No, fuck anyone
but
Maddy. Particularly if the liaison rolled into a six-day holiday fuckfest.

Four scotches later, he only wanted Maddy, so he went home alone. 

Chapter 41

It was two in the morning when the fireman’s bell went off by his head. Really it was his cell phone, but with the hangover he had, who could tell the difference?

When he picked it up, he realized it was the cell given to him by Andy, so that the two of them could stay in touch all the time.