Campaigning for Christopher (20 page)

“We’ve got a few weeks together,” he continued. “Why not enjoy them? Exclusively, of course.”

Wait.
“Um . . .”

He was still talking. “. . . days like today. Nights like tonight. It’s not an act anymore. We’re into each other. And we’ve still got a few weeks until the election.”

“Weeks,” she said, closing her eyes only to see a huge neon sign blinking “idiot” behind her lids.

“And then we’ll go our separate ways,” he finished, “like we always planned.”

She clenched her jaw, swallowing over the growing lump in her throat. “No.”

“No?” he asked, leaning back from her to look down at her eyes. “Why not? I won’t play around. I told you, we’ll be exclusive.”

“And temporary.” She sat up, reaching down for her blouse. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes and she shrugged into the shoulders, not bothering to button it. He’d already seen her in her bra. Modesty would be false now.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, his eyes confused as he stared at her getting dressed. “Jules, what am I missing here? We never said that this . . . this
thing
between us would go beyond the election, right?”

“Right,” she whispered.

“But, there’s still time. I mean, we can be together until then, can’t we? Exclusively, like I said. We could have some fun. Hold on! What are you doing? Where are you going?”

Fun
. Three little letters that ripped her heart to shreds.

“You’re a jerk,” she said angrily, yanking on her shoes. “When I said I wouldn’t let you play with me, I was talking about my heart, not my body.”

“Jules . . .”

“I know this
thing
between us started out in the worst possible way,” she said, tears slipping over her lids and rolling down her cheeks. “But my feelings have grown every day since. I like you, Chris. I
really
like you. The person you are, what you’re doing with your life, how you want to help people, how you want to make a difference. I think about you all the time. I think I . . . I m-might even lo—”

***

“Jules!” he said, stopping her, springing up from the couch and searching her glistening eyes. Her face was upturned, so lovely he almost couldn’t bear it, and his heart tripped over itself as it puzzled over what she was about to say. Was she about to say
love
? Jesus, had she fallen in love with him?

“This was . . . this was just an arrangement. A temporary arrangement.”

“It
started
that way,” she agreed in a broken voice. “But I fell for you. So fast. So hard. I couldn’t help it, Chris.” She shrugged, feeling lovelorn and ridiculous and vulnerable. “I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now. Did he have feelings for her? Yeah. Okay. He did. But they were warm and nebulous and mostly consisted of him wanting to touch her and kiss her and make out with her. Well, and talk to her and make her laugh and hear her ideas. And learn more about her childhood and spend time with her. Lots of time.
All
the time, in fact, and—

Wait.

Fuck!

When the
fuck
had this happened?

When the fuck had
he
started falling for
her
?

She stood up, her eyes stark and miserable as they looked at him. “Am I just convenient and handy?”

“No,” he said, frowning at her. “It’s more than that.”

“More than what? Do you have feelings for me?”

“No!” He paced in front of the coffee table. Looking up at her hurt expression, he stopped and raked his hands through his hair. “Yes.” Then he added, “Sort of. I don’t know.”

The same feeling of caution that had guided all his interactions with her since the day she’d walked into his campaign headquarters now washed over him. It made him wary of her, even though he knew her well enough by now to know she was telling him the truth about how she felt.

“You don’t know,” she repeated, sniffling softly.

“I’m attracted to you,” he said, feeling the lie of omission. Instead of exploring it, he fell back on a familiar refrain. “But the way we met . . . it’s just . . .”

“Right,” she said sadly. She reached up and wiped her cheeks. “You still don’t trust me.”

He winced, but remained silent. It’s not that he didn’t trust her at all, but how could he let go of what had happened between them a few weeks ago? How did he know that she wouldn’t disagree with one of his policies and fly off the handle, making some reckless decision that could ruin him? And yet his heart whispered that she had proven to him, in every possible way, that her behavior at Jessica’s wedding was the exception to who she was, not the rule.

“I wish I was the kind of girl who could just get physical . . . for
fun
,” she said, using his words, which sounded dirty in his ears now that he understood her feelings for him. She forced a smile, but it faded as she gulped. “I sort of hoped I was when I accepted your invitation tonight, but it turns out I’m just not that girl.”

“Jules,” he said, reaching for her. She stepped away quickly, and it made him wince and wonder,
Why does this feel so confusing? And why does it hurt so much?

“I’m going to go,” she said, pulling her shirt together and buttoning it as she turned and walked toward the suite door.

“Jules,” he said again, her name the only word in his head that was true and right. But, Jules, what?
Jules, stay? Jules, go? Jules, I want you? Jules, I care for you? Jules, I want to find a place for you in my life?

With her hand on the doorknob, she turned around and looked at him, her stunning face beaten and sad.

“Hurting you was the worst mistake of my life,” she said in a small, broken voice. “I’m s-sorry I fell for you, but I p-promise I won’t let it get in the way of b-being your girlfriend for the last three weeks. I’ll do everything I can to, um, to help you win.”

He stared at the door as she opened it and walked out.

She was talking about winning, but he’d never felt so lost.

After getting zero sleep and spending most of the night in tears, Julianne took an early-morning cab to the airport and changed her flight to the five a.m. shuttle so that she could avoid running into Christopher & Co. on the journey home. She processed her feelings as best she could on the short flight and taxi ride home, but, back in her dingy apartment and finally out of tears, she was still stung by the pain of his rejection—or rather, of his counteroffer of a temporary fling.

Part of her wished that she could have just gone along with his suggestion that they spend the next three weeks together. Maybe he would have ended up falling for her. Maybe they would have ended up together in the end. And now she’d never know.

But at least she had her self-respect, she tried to convince herself. Slim, hard comfort though it would be the next time she saw Chris’s face and knew that she was the one who’d refused what he was willing to offer, she knew it would have been harder to live with herself if she had allowed him to cheapen her in a bid for his affection.

Even though she missed him desperately after the whirlwind of Washington, she was also grateful for a few days of space. She called her mother on Friday night and told her about visiting Washington, but her mother kept steering the conversation back to her endorsement contract with Skid City. Though Julianne basked in the pride in her mother’s voice, she still hadn’t signed the contract. Skid City seemed so very far away right now, and after hanging up, Julianne decided that in order to get through the next three weeks, she was going to need to invest herself not solely in Christopher, but in the campaign itself.

The reason she had found Washington so galvanizing was that she’d been exposed to such amazing ideas and bright minds. And Julianne realized that inside herself was a girl with ideas and spirit to share, who wanted to make a difference in the world. If she wasn’t going to win the heart of the man she had quickly grown to love, she could at least spend her energy productively, trying to contribute more to his campaign than pretty smiles.

Checking their itinerary for the upcoming weeks, she felt a strong sense of purpose when she read that their next engagement, on Monday, was at the Lenape Nation of Pennsylvania Cultural Center, an hour north of Philadelphia. Making a conscious choice to ignore her wounded heart as much as possible, Julianne spent her weekend at the local library, conducting an in-depth research project on the Lenape Nation so that she might have the confidence and courage to speak intelligently, if asked.

She spent time on YouTube, watching videos about how to master public speaking, and passed a good two or three hours on Sunday afternoon staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, practicing what she’d learned.

By Monday morning, she was nervous about seeing Christopher again, but she had a renewed sense of purpose and confidence that gave a lift to her step as she walked downstairs in her black wrap dress with fringed boots, beaded jewelry from home, and her hair traditionally braided in one, long plait that fell almost to her waist in the back. She was ready.

A driver opened the back door of the black sedan for her, and Julianne slipped inside, finding Christopher already seated, on his phone, his head turned away from her.

She sighed softly, taking a small stack of index cards out of her purse before placing it on the seat between them.

“Yeah, it’s a fun idea, for sure, but I don’t know if I can commit.”

Julianne tried her best to tune out the sound of his voice. She was hurt that he hadn’t even looked over at her and smiled. Obviously he wasn’t feeling great about how they’d left things in Washington either.

“What are
you
going as?”

Julianne’s brows furrowed as she looked down at her cards and tried to concentrate on her facts rather than the hot man a foot away who was ignoring her.

The Lenape Indians occupied the present-day area known as Philadelphia for almost 10,000 years before Europeans came to the region. Because they had trouble pronouncing Lenape (Leh-NAH-pay), those first settlers decided to call the tribe Delaware instead.

“Ha-ha. You know I’d do anything for you,” he practically purred.

Her lips twitched. This definitely
wasn’t
a campaign-related call. That much was clear. And with a voice that low and sweet, he was certainly speaking to a woman. Something sharp stabbed in the general vicinity of her heart, and she huffed softly before flipping to the next card with determination.

While clan mothers controlled the land, the houses, and the families, clan fathers hunted for food, farmed, built the houses, and provided protection. Upon reaching adulthood, a Lenape male would marry outside his clan to prevent inbreeding.

Christopher made a soft sound of an unqualifiable nature. “Sexy
nurse
? They didn’t have Sexy Museum Docent at the party store, huh?”

Julianne’s eyes widened as she clenched her jaw and cleared her throat meaningfully, turning to look at the back of his head. Her only mollifying thought? If she could shoot daggers from her eyes, he’d be long dead.

Despite her cue, he didn’t turn around. Instead he laughed softly. “Really? How’d you pull
that
off?”

He was so absorbed with his call, her glare was utterly useless so she looked back down at her cards, trying to focus.

Displaced in the 1860s, fewer than 1,000 Lenapes survived the trip to Indian Territory in Oklahoma—a far cry from the estimated 15,000 to 20,000 Lenapes who had lived in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware before the Europeans arrived.

She narrowed her eyes at this factoid, bile rising in her throat.

Five percent,
she thought to herself.
Only five percent made it.

And
that’s
why the Eastern Lenape deserved federal recognition above all other reasons: because their ancestors had been systematically eliminated through disease, trickery, and forced migration. From a home they’d inhabited for 10,000 years, and—

“You think so? You think I’d make a good vampire?” He chuckled, then employed a Dracula accent and murmured, “I vant . . . to suck . . . your blood.”

Julianne winced, not so much from his awful accent, but from the quick mental flash of his lips on someone else’s neck. Her stomach turned over, and she fumed, wondering who the hell he was talking to and why
she’d
make a great sexy museum docent (barf) and why he wanted to suck
her
neck and why talking to
her
made his voice was so warm and playful.

She shoved the cards back into her purse and folded her arms over her chest in a good and solid snit.

I guess he’s found someone else to play the role of temporary playmate for the next few weeks. Well, good for him. I hope she has some rare disease that makes his . . . his . . . parts fall off.

“Yeah. Okay. Fine. I’ll be there.” He laughed at whatever she was saying. “Oh, give me a break. You could talk me into anything, and you know it. You’ve always had me wrapped around your finger.”

And that’s when Julianne’s heart plummeted. Because this wasn’t some brand-new flirtation to replace what he wasn’t getting from her. This was someone Christopher had obviously cared about for a very long time.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for. I’m not saying it.” He paused again, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Julianne tensed, knowing what was coming, both desperate to hear and not to hear the words that were about to fall from his lips.

“Fine. I love you too . . . even though you’re a little tyrant.”

Julianne clenched her eyes shut against the burn of tears. So there
was
someone else. Someone he likely couldn’t have started dating during the election, but now that Julianne had rejected him, he was running back into her arms. Well, fine. If he was that fickle, that shallow, that much of a player, he could just—

He turned to look at Julianne with a smug smile as he said, “Yep. See you Saturday, Jess. Bye.”

Wait. Um. Jess? Jess? Jess. His little sister.

He lowered the phone, his eyes all knowing, totally delighted, and self-satisfied all at once. “Morning, Jules. How was your weekend?”

***

Christopher had just had a pretty awful weekend courtesy of Jules, and he couldn’t help messing with her a little by using his conversation with Jessica to make her jealous.  And judging from the look in her—first hot and furious, then confused, now increasingly chagrined—eyes, he knew exactly how her weekend had been: just as bad as his.

It sucked that they hadn’t been able to spend Wednesday evening together, but even his physical deprivation had taken a backseat to the ache in his heart. He had hated watching her leave his room in tears after apologizing for falling for him. Especially because it just happened to coincide with the very moment that he realized he was falling for her too.

She forced a brittle smile, obviously mad at his little game. “Fine. Thanks.”

Reaching back into her purse, she withdrew the cards she’d been reading when he glanced over at her a few minutes ago.

“What are you reading?”

She gave him a quick and haughty look, before returning to her cards. “None of your business.”

“Okay,” he said congenially, looking out the window. “That was my sister. She’s having a Halloween party in Haverford.”

“Good for her.”

“What do you think of Dracula?”

“For you? Perfect,” she snapped.

“Why?” he asked, stifling a grin. She was so hot when she was mad, and she was piping mad.

“Because you don’t have the legs for Sexy Museum Docent. Plus, I heard it was all sold out at the party store.”

He chuckled softly, well aware that it would probably incite more fury. “You were eavesdropping.”

“I’m sitting twelve inches away from you,” she exclaimed. “Not to mention, you were making it sound like something it wasn’t . . . on p-purpose.”

“Fine. I admit it. I had a terrible weekend thinking about you and missing you, and I wanted to see if I could make you jealous.”

She screwed up her face, staring at him with hurt eyes. “
Of course
you can make me jealous. I was totally up front about the fact that I’m into you.”

She’s right. I’m an asshole.

“Jules . . .”

“No,” she said, looking back down at her cards. “You had your fun, now leave me alone.”

His smile faded as he stared out the window. He was so fucking glad to see her, so happy to be near her again, he hadn’t actually considered the fact that her feelings might be hurting worse than his.

He was embarrassed that she’d rejected his offer for a three-week, exclusive relationship. Unaccustomed to rejection, it had been a blow to his ego when she not only refused him, but left his hotel room and didn’t call or text him all weekend long. He’d checked his phone near constantly for a message from her, hoping for some sign that she was rethinking what he was comfortable offering her. But she hadn’t gotten in touch, and it had just about driven him wild, wondering if she could turn off her emotions so quickly. So, yeah, maybe it was mean to let her think he was talking to someone other than Jess, but he couldn’t help it. Some part of him needed to know she still cared for him, despite the way they left things on Wednesday night.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shifting in his seat to look at her. “You’re right. I was being a jerk.”

She took a deep breath and lowered her cards, locking her eyes with his. “It’s okay.”

“I thought about you all weekend.”

“Me too,” she admitted.

“I want you bad, Jules,” he said softly, reaching for her hand, relieved when she let him take it. “I just can’t promise you more than here and now.”

“I know.”

“I wish that could be enough.”

She shrugged. “It’s not.”

Something inside him bristled, adding a petulant edge to his voice. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?”

Pulling her hand away, she clasped them both in her lap, covering the index cards that had her so fascinated this morning. “How so?”

“We’ve barely known each other for a month. Our—I don’t even know what to call this—our
relationship
started off in the worst possible way. We’ve been playacting at being boyfriend and girlfriend for weeks, and now, suddenly, you want the real thing for an indeterminate amount of time.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, I can’t give it to you.”

“Trod ground,” she said, looking back down at her goddamned cards.

He clenched his jaw, missing the soft warmth of her hand in his.

“Reconsider.”

“I can’t,” she said without looking up. “Now, please. Leave me be.”

***

Though she and Christopher had an invisible wall of awkwardness between them, they’d learned how to appear like a couple weeks ago, when he hated her guts. Falling back into the roles of boyfriend and girlfriend for the approving eyes of their Lenape hosts wasn’t difficult, and though it hurt her heart to be at odds with him, Julianne savored the sanctioned contact between them as much as she could, feeling the dwindling of their days together now more than ever.