A Harmless Little Ruse (Harmless #2)(34)

But he’s not telling the truth, either.

“Do you,” he says tightly, “have any idea how thin the ice you’re skating on really is, Drew? Blaine Maisri has connections you cannot fathom.” His eyes bore into me. I don’t flinch. I don’t move.

I stare back. “Like Nolan Corning?”

No reaction.

“And those connections are more important than your daughter,” I challenge.

It’s not a question.

“No.” I expect more anger in his answer. “But pissing off Blaine and the people behind him does nothing but put Lindsay in more danger.”

More danger.

“He’s been texting her.”

Harry blinks in surprise. “More texts?”

“Yes. Threats. Pictures.”

“You traced them directly to him?”

“No.”

“Then you’ve proven nothing, which means we can do nothing.”

“Not true.”

“You have to act within the law, Drew. This is my presidency at stake. The election year is a weird one. Once I’m nominated as the party’s candidate in the general election, it’s smooth sailing.”

“How do you know?”

He shoots me a dry look.

“I know.”

“But that assurance isn’t there through these early stages?”

“No.”

“Then this may very well involve Nolan Corning. He has a reputation for being cut-throat, Harry.”

“So do I, Drew.”

“What if he’s behind what happened to Lindsay?”

“You think Nolan Corning convinced three college frat boys in your circle to do what they did to Lindsay out of a sense of...competition? Are you insane, Drew?”

“I am considering all possibilities.”

“You sound like one of those ‘9/11 was an inside job’ nutters.”

“Why won’t you even consider the idea?”

Silence.

He’s a cipher. I won’t get more out of him. Time to cut off the chit chat.

“Blaine and whoever’s behind him are using Lindsay against you. Always have.”

An imperceptible shiver runs through him. “You mean they’re using her reputation against me.”

I almost say it.

Almost.

“No, Harry.” I drop my voice. “They’re using her. You know what happened with the brake lines. They’re trying to paint her as a crazy. It’s all a lie. But once they do that, they’ll try to taint you by association. We need to cut this off now. The fish rots from the head.”

“I know you’re not referring to me.”

“Of course not. I’m talking about whoever is pulling Blaine Maisri’s puppet strings. Whoever’s been pulling them for four years. It can’t have escaped your attention that Blaine’s rise has been meteoric. He’s my age and he’s a state senator. He’s barely old enough to even be a U.S. Representative, constitutionally.”

Tap tap tap.

It’s Marshall, one of the PR handlers for Lindsay that Harry hired last week. Last week.

She’s been home barely a week.

He doesn’t make eye contact with me.

My hackles go up.

“Senator? A word?”

Harry frowns at me, then turns, giving Marshall his full attention. The guy’s eyes dart to me, then down to a newspaper in his hand.

I can’t see the picture on it, but I immediately know it’s bad. Whatever’s on that cover, a shitstorm’s about to be unleashed.

Harry pivots and tosses the newspaper on the table between us.

I’m on the cover.

I am the shitstorm.

My sharp inhale feels like someone’s shoved an icicle down my throat.

He’s going to ask me to explain. Explain why that photo shows me punching Blaine. Explain why that photo captures the moment I unleashed on the guy.

And explain why it’s clear I was aiming for him.

No other man is in the frame.

I compose my thoughts even as they race at breakneck speed.

And then he beats me to it.

“You’re fired.”





Chapter 12





I nod, blinking, like this is unexpected.

It’s not.

“You understand, of course,” he says in a tone that makes it clear I’d damn well better not argue. “We can still spin this so we save Lindsay’s reputation. The ‘attacker’ slipped out a second before. You were shoved by the perpetrator and off-balance. Whatever we say, the focus will be on Lindsay. Not you. I won’t have my daughter’s barely salvageable reputation affected in any way by you, Drew. Not any more.”

“I’ll take myself off the case.” My mouth is numb. I am speaking through nine layers of glue.

“No.”

I look at him. He’s imposing as f*ck, but I’m strangely detached. Not intimidated a bit. This is about reality and facts. I moved from the asset to the liability column with one newspaper photo. I get it. I do.

“You’re fired. Officially. We’re about to make a very public announcement declaring as much. I’m sure you understand it’s nothing personal. This is about damage control. Read the headline.”