No Way Back(Jack McNeal #1)(70)

“Do you understand the severity of this?” The voice of Skinner snapped him back to the harsh reality of the present.

Forbes nodded, struggling to wrap his head around it.

“We’ll find out who she is. Might take an hour. Maybe a day. And then we’ll piece this thing together. You either come clean now, or we start making inquiries. Things can get messy.”

Forbes squirmed. His gaze fixed on the framed photo on the desk: Skinner with the President.

“We serve, Andrew. It’s an honor to serve your country and your president.”

“I love my country. And I will do anything to serve the President.”

“I know that’s true; I’m sure you’ll make the right call.”

“Does anyone at the White House know about this? Does the President?”

Skinner solemnly shook his head. “I thought you had a girlfriend, Andrew.”

Forbes nodded. “I do.”

“Jenny Sinclair, if my memory serves me right. Are you serious about her?”

“We’re taking it slow.”

“I’m guessing her father wouldn’t be too happy if he saw such uncensored pictures on Twitter? Or if such photos were mentioned in certain salacious tabloid magazines. You know the type I’m talking about?”

“Indeed, sir.”

“The Sinclairs are a very wealthy, very powerful family. Like your own. This event could tarnish you forever. So, you see, it’s vital you come clean about this woman and what exactly happened.”

Forbes needed to speak to Jason Iverson. The lawyer’s number was on his cell phone. Should he just walk out of the office and make the call? Then again, maybe he should just sit tight and play for time.

“Now there’s two ways this could play out. The dumb way or the smart way. The dumb way involves you dragging this out and refusing to cooperate. Your name will be confirmed. The smart way, you tell me who the hell she is, and we manage this situation.”

Forbes nodded as he stared at the mug of steaming hot coffee on Skinner’s desk.

“We will not confirm your name as being the guy in these photos, which you clearly are. We will put pressure on the reporter, insinuating that her newspaper will lose any contact with official sources within the White House, effectively shutting down their political coverage. We will give them nothing.”

“I understand.”

“We will stand by you, but only if you tell us who the fuck she is. And, before you ask, no. You can’t call a lawyer. Deal with it like a man, or face humiliation. Think of the humiliation to your father. The family. Your mother.”

Forbes closed his eyes.

“Do you think Jenny’s parents will allow this relationship to proceed when they read about your activities with another woman? What if they see the photos? ‘Can he really have feelings for our lovely daughter,’ the Sinclairs will say, ‘if he’s fucking this other woman?’ I don’t fucking think so, son. Now, either wise up or face the music. That’s your choice.”

Forbes nodded but didn’t say a word.

“You will be asked to leave, and you will be given glowing references, of course. The best and most loyal body man a president has ever had. And you know what, I’m good friends with several guys at the networks. Studios. Producers. You want to make a name in Hollywood, right?”

“At some point, yes.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I can help you. But I can also crush your dreams. Believe me when I say that. Just ask my ex-wife.” Skinner smiled tightly, as if afraid to show his teeth.

Forbes felt his throat tighten. “This is difficult for me, sir.”

“How so?”

“I don’t believe in betraying trust.”

“I’m asking you a simple fucking question, Andrew.”

Forbes experienced a stabbing pain in his right knee and winced. He stared at the coffee. An idea slowly began to form in his head.

“You okay?”

“Just my knee injury.”

Skinner nodded empathetically. “It’s a bitch. Had the same sort of deal after an accident in Aspen three years ago.”

“Slow recovery, but I’m getting there.”

“I imagine jogging with the President doesn’t help?”

“It’s fine, just needs time to heal.”

Skinner’s cell phone rang. He checked the ID display. He held up a finger. “Never a fucking break. Two minutes, Andrew. Don’t move.” The chief of staff left the office, shutting the door softly behind him.

Forbes sat motionless. His breath grew faster. He didn’t have much time. He needed to do it now.

He took out a small plastic bottle from his jacket pocket, unscrewed the rubber dropper. He leaned across the desk and dropped six minuscule shots of oxycodone in Skinner’s coffee.

He sat back down, screwed on the dropper, and carefully put the bottle back in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Forbes reached into his other pocket, pulled out a pen, and stirred Skinner’s coffee for a few seconds.

His heart pounded like it was going to explode.

What the fuck had he done? Was he losing his mind?

Forbes took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He leaned forward, careful to pick up the correct coffee cup. He sat with the untainted coffee. He took a large gulp.