Chapter Twelve

 

It wasn't unexpected when Linda pretended that nothing had happened. It was the right play. It was, however, unexpected when Tom did it, too.

His lack of restraint was not only famous, it was what Adam had hired him for. Because he was always playing hardball. It was an undesirable trait in a friend, never being able to just relax and let something slide, but in a media consultant, it was just about the only trait that was really needed.

Adam ignored it. They were going to do what they were going to do, and he had to do what he had to do. There was nothing to gain from making a fuss. Just wait until the other shoe drops.

It dropped just after lunch. Linda looked tired, at the best. Exhilarated. It occurred to Adam as he thought through the day that he hadn't seen them since a little after they walked in that morning.

Tom announced, loud enough for anyone to hear. "We've got it." His voice was rougher than normal, like he'd been talking too much.

"Oh?"

"You'll like this one. In the hallway."

Adam raised an eyebrow, but he pushed himself back from the unadorned oak desk that he'd set aside for himself, tapped a few keys on his keyboard that made the screen go black, and followed them out.

He looked first to Linda. If Tom thought something was a good idea, then that was one thing. She was the canary in the coal mine. If she was nervous, then it was a bad idea. She seemed nervous, but it was an energetic nervousness. Like she was about to roll the dice on a big gamble.

"Lay it on me."

"Remember when I said that you were going to be the talk of the town last night?"

Adam's jaw tightened. "Sure."

"What if we made sure of it?"

"You mean what if we leaked the story to the press."

Tom smiled; Linda had a thumbnail lodged firmly between her front teeth, but she seemed to be stopping herself from actually chewing it. "That's exactly what I mean."

"It's a risk. Linda?"

"It was her idea, Adam. Look at her. Learning, always learning. I'll be out of a job soon, if she keeps making plays like this."

She smiles a little, but she doesn't look at Adam.

"Interesting. And you think it'll work?"

Tom's eyes light up as if the question is all he's ever wanted to be asked. "Think it'll work? Of course it will work, Adam. Of course it will work. It's got everything from top to bottom.

"Sex, of course. Everyone loves sex. And then it's got that air of danger. Anonymous sex. And more than that, it's got an air of government conspiracy. Like you're already infiltrating. It's perfect."

Deep breath. "Linda, talk to me. What's got you nervous?"

"It's a risk. I think it pays off, or I wouldn't have come to him. And you want to take risks. So I don't know. I just don't know."

Adam leans back against the wall. The idea had occurred to him, on some level, but hearing it confirmed by the other two made it real. It meant that what had previously been an incident that he didn't want to relive would be on television every night.

Of course, they wouldn't mention—he hoped—having stormed out. If they did, then it would create a little bit of a different story. Adam Quinn, too disturbed by the Washington establishment even to fuck their women.

The thought courses through his mind as if it might have been a good idea. It wasn't, and he already knew why.

"Linda needs to be left out of it."

Her face screws up. "I mean, we could run interference on it if they try to bring that up, but why? I'm just nobody."

"I've had my name raked through the mud more times than I can count. It's more mud than name, these days." Adam looks at Tom Delaney with a hard expression. "I'm not going to have that happening to Miss Owens. Am I clear on that?"

Tom smiles. It doesn't suit him. He looks like a caricature of himself. He's always frowned, and so he should continue now. But apparently this has put him in a rare good mood.

"Of course, sir. Just you. Anyone else we should throw under the bus? Just in case?"

"Do you think it'll be necessary?"

Linda's nail is back between her teeth. She's rocking her thumb back and forth, as if she hopes that she can counteract the desire to chew her nails by reversing the action, pressing harder against her teeth standing still. Tom, on the other hand, is rearing to go.

"Necessary? No. It makes it look less targeted, though. They'll bite easier if they don't think it's bait."

"Without the extra?"

"They'll bite. How could they not? But it won't have that ring of truth. They'll know right away it came from us, or from someone looking to get you out of the race. Rather than being an organic story."

"Do what you think you have to, then," Adam answers. His mind races with possibilities that he doesn't want to put words to right now.

"Are you sure about this, Linda?"

Her eyebrows crease again. Then she smooths her face over, and it's as if it never happened.

"Sure I'm sure. I'm not the one in hot water. It fits your image perfectly. It's not going to do anything to you, I don't think. The public perception is already that you're a man of… considerable virility, shall we say. The only thing they're going to get out of this story is that nothing has changed now that you're on the campaign trail."

"I agree," Tom chimes in. "But then again, this is her specialty, not mine."

"You're right, it isn't," Adam answers. He can't explain why he's upset. Something he can't put his finger on. And then, all of a sudden, the entire situation clarifies in his mind.

He's angry because Tom's there. He's there with Linda. Linda, who is his. She just doesn't know it yet. And he's putting her at risk.

Adam Quinn can take risks. But nobody takes risks with Adam Quinn's woman.