Chapter Thirty-Three

 

It seemed like everywhere Linda turned, there was another story conspiring to ruin her day. Another plan that she hadn't been informed of, and another plan that she would have turned down if they had come to her with it. Maybe that was why she wasn't being consulted.

It had been, what, three days since she had slept with Adam last? Less than a week. Caught by Tom De-fucking-laney, and now she was suddenly on the out?

It was a laugh. If the press found out, they'd be questioning whether or not she was getting special advantages because of her sex. When now she was wondering if she wasn't losing ground because of it.

Things don't always work the way you expect them to, but they work that way least of all when you are counting on it. That's the old Murphy's law, isn't it? Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. If it can't, well, get ready because something else can.

It was the first time that she'd done it in days, but she grabbed the remote and shut the TV off.

"This is your doing, isn't it, Tom?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. But for all that he denied his role in the announcement, his eyes didn't lie. He was a good liar when he wanted to be. He didn't care if she knew.

"So what's going to happen when the press starts asking questions about who the 'lucky lady' is? Did you have a plan for that?"

"Are they not doing that already?"

"Are they doing that already—god, Christ, Tom. You're really something else, aren't you?"

Linda's chest heaved in frustration. What was his problem, anyways? He should've been just as worried as she was. The fact that he wasn't was just another confirmation that there were things that he knew and she didn't.

"Here's the plan: We let them stew a bit, and then when they're simmering down, we come up with a new plan."

That was a lie, too, she thought. She couldn't see it in his face this time, but there was no world where Tom Delaney didn't have a next step. No world in which he was ignoring the future and making last-minute decisions.

Which meant he was lying to her, keeping secrets from her, just like Adam was.

"What is this, Tom? What are you doing?"

"I don't understand the question, to be honest."

"You've got something up your sleeve, and I don't like it."

Tom smiles. He clears his throat and smiles and for a moment he almost tells her what's going on. She can see it in his eyes. And then, as suddenly as he likes, he stops himself.

"No, nothing going on."

She swallows hard, and suddenly she knows exactly what this is about. It's not anything to do with Adam. Adam's doing his best, but he's in over his head. Anyone would be, alone. He's a genius in his field, and his skills are transferring over surprisingly well to the political spectrum as well.

But he's always going to have to have help from someone. Hell, even in tech, he's gotten by with plenty of help from other people, from advisers who went on to prove themselves very capable in their own right. Adam's businesses are team affairs from top to bottom, so politics would be no different for him.

If someone is doing something to mess with her, then it's not going to be because they want revenge on her for sleeping with them. That made no sense in any world.

People are complicated, and they make decisions for reasons that aren't altogether rational. People think with their heads, but their heads mostly make decisions based on feelings, on instincts, on gut reactions.

You fucking someone? You have emotions about it. Of course you do—everyone does. The emotions will be a lot of things, but they won't be negative.

If you get turned down, though… you're going to have emotions about that, too. Tom's eyes shift back to the television.

"Are we done for today, or are you going to turn that back on?"

"What would be the point? I'm not being kept in the loop. I'm not going to be strung along."

She picks up her purse, picks up her laptop and slips it into the shoulder-bag that she uses as a tote. If she hurries, Linda thinks, she can get back to her apartment in an hour, and she can be doing work that might actually make a difference before dinnertime. At least in that case, she might be able to get something done that Tom Delaney won't be working to undo.

Her gut tells her that she should be working to stop him, but her gut's wrong. There's nothing that she can do to stop him. He's a slippery guy, and if he wants to do something, there's no "stopping" him. That's a false goal.

If Linda wants to get her way around him, then the answer isn't to play the same game, on the same field, that he's playing it. She's got to have another answer, and she's got one. It's easy, it's convenient, and it's right in her face.

Figure out what she should be doing separately, and make herself independently useful. She had understood her job to be working with Delaney, but if that wasn't going to be a two-way street, she wasn't going to put herself in his line of fire.

Linda takes a deep breath and heads over to Adam's workstation. He looks up as she approaches, and his eyes immediately flicker down to her bag.

"Something wrong, Miss Owens?"

"I'll be doing my work from home. I'll have an email sent off with my results by tonight."

"Do you want to set up a meeting to discuss them?"

He sounds hopeful. It almost hurts to tell him no, but neither of them can afford to be caught up in a scandal right now, especially with Tom doing whatever he's doing.

"Not particularly, unless—"

She cuts herself off. He gets the idea, and she's got nothing more to add. And then she walks out of the room. She's not going to stand here while they build her gallows.

She's got work to do, and she's not going to watch the sabotage while she does it. Not if she can help it.