Domestic Affairs (47 page)

“What were you expecting?”

“I have no idea. Flowers?”

“Didn't have a chance to get those.”

“This is
soooo
much better.”

As they got inside, Landon turned her back to the door and kissed her. It was one of those long kisses that consumed her. She pulled herself away, almost afraid of losing herself completely. She was mad at him, so mad at him, but she loved him. She knew she shouldn't. It wasn't right, but it was everything.

“I'm so sorry.”

“Baby, this is not your fault.”

“It is. I made you stay friends with him. I forced him on the campaign. I should have seen this coming.”

“It's not your job to vet them. I've known the man for years. No one could have seen this coming. Come on. Let's have some food.”

Olivia smiled, so glad to have someone there with her.
Not someone; Landon.
The anger slipped away, replaced by the primal need for this person who needed no explanation of what was at stake, who knew Alek, who knew her. She cleared off the mess on her coffee table and started to spread out the meal. As always, it was exactly what she would
have ordered, a million different things that didn't make sense together at all.

“The thing is,” she called to him as he pulled out the vodka he had left in her freezer, “I know I should be mad and afraid, but really I'm so worried about him.”

“Of course you are. I am too, baby.”

“How do you do that? How do you always make my crazy okay?”

“'Cause I like your crazy. Alek has been a good friend. And he's not guilty as far as we know.” He poured out two vodkas as he talked. She looked at him longingly until he kissed her and grabbed her around her waist, pulling her down to the couch. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Come on.” He patted her on the knee. “Let's dig into this food. I'm starved.”

She sat back with a plate of chicken and broccoli and pulled her feet up under her. As he leaned forward to get his own plate of dumplings, she reached out to touch his back. It was almost a subconscious move to prove to herself that he was real. He turned his head and grinned at her.

“Hey, baby,” he said with a comforting tone, as if he knew exactly what she needed.

“Hey.” She smiled, caught. Then she paused and looked at him. “Hey, Landon, thank you.”

He put his plate down and ran his hand through the top of her hair. “I love you. It's going to be okay.”

And with that she almost believed it would be.

Forty-five minutes into an episode of
White Collar
, the buzzer at her door rang. Landon shot up, jarred by it as much as she was. She walked over to the intercom, head rushing with what she would do if it was Alek. Or Jacob. She closed her eyes and pressed the button.

“Yes?”

“Ciao, bella.”

“Oh, hey, Gianni.” The relief swept through her body.

“That delivery you were asking about, the UPS? Ronnie just came with it. Eets here.”

“Okay, thanks, Gianni, be right down for it.” She turned to Landon. “I bet it's Jonah and Simon's contributions. They said they would send it here instead of the office.”

She bounced down the steps and entered the restaurant. It hummed with a vivacious dinner crowd. Olivia looked around, happy that people were out and about. The world was going on and she got to go back upstairs and be with the man she loved. Gianni handed her the UPS envelope, and her eyes traveled to the sender: Alek Yerkhov. She tried to say thank you without letting her horror show as she turned around and left the restaurant. On the walk up the stairs she warily pulled the paper tab from one side to the other. Landon stood up as she walked in, clearly moved by the whiteness of her face.

“What is it?”

“Something from Alek.” He moved in to her as she pulled at the letter. Her eyes scanned down the sentences, processing them in a manically quick way.

“To whom it concerns . . . Can't go on . . . made mistakes . . . so sorry.” Then the last line, “I don't want a funeral. I just want Olivia Greenley to handle my remains.”

Olivia moved reflexively to the couch and fell back. The letter slipped down to the tips of her fingers and onto the ground as tears began to fall. Landon stayed standing, immobile.

“It's a suicide letter. He's going to kill himself.” She spoke quietly, unsure of the gray emotion that was swirling around her body. “I . . .” She looked up at Landon, hoping he was falling onto the couch with her so she could bury her face in him. Instead he was slipping his arms briskly through the sleeves of his jacket and stepping into his shoes.

He looked at her, shaking his head. “This isn't good. You've got to call the campaign lawyer. Yes,” he said, confirming his own thought, “call Ethanson.”

Olivia looked up at him in shock. The haze that had filtered around her now seemed to condense into quicksand.

“You what? I what?” The words barely came out of her mouth.

Landon didn't stop. “Call the lawyer right away. I can't be here.” He had rare panic in his voice as he opened the door and walked out.

Olivia looked down at the note on the floor, up at the closed door, and back down again, feeling a total inability to comprehend the pieces of the last ten minutes.

“But he's your friend! Your friend is going to die!” she pointlessly yelled at the door.

Pull yourself together
, she told herself, her hands visibly shaking.
He's right. Call the lawyer.
She picked up her phone, looking for Jackie Ethanson's number, and began to scroll down the list of contacts. She stopped at Jacob's name, remembering he was in New York, and dialed.

“J?”

“Liv? You okay?”

“No.”

“Another insurance agent die?”

She let out a breath and tried to compose herself. “Alek sent me a suicide note.”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” She felt the gravity of the moment, that all kinds of new horrors would be born from this, that her life had changed forever.

“Where are you?”

“At my apartment.”

“Okay, I'm across town. Don't do anything. I'll be right over.”

“Thank you.” The words fell from her mouth, accompanied by the last drip of composure she had left. She dropped the BlackBerry on the couch and grabbed a pillow.

When Jacob buzzed in, she tried to wipe her eyes, but seeing him at the door caused her to lose it again. He moved in toward her and gave her the hug she had so desperately wanted from Landon. She grabbed on to his shoulders and squeezed him as tightly as she could. Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling onto his jacket.

“I'm sorry,” she whimpered, finally releasing her grip on his shoulders. “I'm getting tears on your suit.” She wiped at his shoulder and then at her eyes. “I'm so sorry, Jacob.”

“It's okay, Liv.” He hugged her back. “Where is it?”

“Here.” She handed him the letter. “I'm supposed to call the lawyer. Landon said to call Ethanson.”

Jacob stopped, looking around the room at the two plates of half-
eaten Chinese food, and then his eyes darted to the side of the couch. “Landon?”

Olivia watched him look at the floor at the Great American Vending Machine Company. She looked up in admission, too scared and sad and angry to make a quick excuse.

“Landon was here?”

Olivia looked at him again. “I'm sorry.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don't know.” She shook her head. “He saw the letter and took off.”

“You got a suicide letter from
his
friend and he walked out?” Jacob's fury started to build visibly.

Olivia tried to calm him down even though that was the exact question she had been repeating in her mind since he walked out. “I understand. I mean, he can't be here. He shouldn't have been here in the first place. He had to leave.”

Jacob looked at her, believing the words even less than she did.

“Damn it, Olivia. Stop making excuses for him. I know he used to be a good guy. No one knows that like me. But he is not a good guy anymore. Liv. He should have stayed. Or he shouldn't have come at all. He should be the one getting this note. He should not be the one to leave.”

She stared blankly back, knowing it was true. Jacob spun into work mode, calling Jackie to handle the legal and Peter to handle the press. The next hour raced by so quickly and ferociously that Olivia barely moved. She went through the motions without taking in anything, saying only what Jacob and Jackie and Peter told her to say. A friend was about to die. Or maybe he was already dead. He was guilty of everything she had hoped he wasn't. And as much as she tried to focus on that and as much as she knew that was what was important, she couldn't help but recognize the parallel message it carried for her relationship. Landon was guilty of everything she'd hoped he wasn't too.

J
acob marshaled the last dose of calm he could muster as he walked out of Olivia's apartment at seven thirty in the evening. “Get some sleep.” He hugged her again. “It will be better tomorrow.”

The minute he stepped onto the sidewalk, free from the worry of upsetting her, his fury simmered over into a loud grunt. He walked vigorously, composing the speech he would scream at the governor when he saw him. He found himself muttering loudly like a crazy person as he headed down the street.

“Liar.” He almost twitched.

As he said the words, his BlackBerry started buzzing. “Crap.” He looked at the phone, not wanting to answer Billy's call. He had been so busy practicing his rage-filled speech he hadn't decided how he actually wanted to handle the situation. The phone buzzed again.

“Hey, Billy.”

“You still with Olivia?”

“Just left.”

“Good, good.” Billy spoke slowly. “I got good news and bad news.”

Jacob wasn't really in the mood for either.

“Okay, give it to me.”

“The good news is we found the gov.”

“I take it that's the bad news too?” Jacob asked, knowing the answer but now confused at how this would unfold.

“It is.” Billy's Southern accent seemed so much more prominent when he was stressed. “Governor decided to get on a plane to New York. He's just landed.”

Liar
, Jacob screamed internally. “Really?” he asked, trying to stay composed.

“Indeed. Apparently he decided the SEIU conference shouldn't be missed, so he caught a flight and will be there for the dinner. He said to let you know you should meet him there.”

“Ha.” Jacob let out a sarcastic laugh.

“I know,” Billy said like the teacher trying to calm the kids on the playground. Billy knew Landon and Jacob had been fighting, but as far as Jacob could tell, he didn't know anything of the bigger issues. “I know it's not ideal. We're almost through this patch.”

Jacob wasn't about to be the one to spell it out. He had dealt with enough today. “It's not a patch, Billy.”

“Jacob,” Billy said with almost stern stillness, “you go meet him at that dinner and for tonight, just do your job. I promise tomorrow we'll get to the bottom of this and get it fixed.”

Jacob wanted to fight, wanted to scream through the phone and quit right then and there, but he had a pang of sympathy for Billy. It wasn't Billy's fault and he had been through enough to last him the year.

“I know, Billy.” He thought to himself that this would be the last conversation before it all changed. “You know I have the highest respect for you, Billy.”

Billy seemed to understand that these were words of resignation, in all senses of that term. But he didn't try to justify the importance of the race or tell him how lucky they were to work for the governor. Billy might not have known the details, but he knew the governor had changed. Drastically and irreversibly. All Billy said was, “Okay.”