She walked the few blocks to Finnegan’s to meet Billy and voxed George on her way.
“You fucking vultures,” she started.
“Hey, Love,” George answered, his voice cheery.
“So I just got myself sued by kicking a photographer in the nuts. Just FYI.”
“Nice. What happened?”
Stella sighed. “I was walking Cooper and this guy got in my face. I told him to back off several times and he just kept coming at me. He touched my arm, so I kicked him in the nuts.”
“Sounds fair to me, Love.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Just wanted to make sure you knew so when the asshole media reports it, you’re already aware.”
“Okay, Love. What’re you doing now?”
“Headed to Finnegan’s to drink with Billy. I need to get drunk and I try not to do that by myself anymore.”
“Tell everyone I said hello,” George said. “Wish I was there for a drink.”
“Will do,” she agreed, “and me too.”
“I love you.”
“Not as much as I do.” She put her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. Her sweater was big and chunky and kept her warm in the night air.
The heat of Finnegan’s hit her face as soon as she opened the door. Hazel was behind the bar, but so was Owen. He smiled and winked at her as she entered. Billy was already there, nursing a beer.
She plopped down on the barstool next to him.
“Um, ten minutes was twenty minutes ago.” Billy pointed at his watch.
“Well, I was busy kicking a reporter in the balls and getting myself sued.” She took a sip of the warm beer that sat in front of her.
“Your life is so fucking boring. How do you even stand yourself?” Billy asked, stone-faced.
“I want to stab myself in the eye on a daily basis,” she deadpanned.
“I would too.” He leaned his shoulder into hers and put his head briefly on her shoulder. “You good?”
She shrugged. “I’m about to be out several thousand dollars to make this dirtbag motherfucker go away.”
“It looks like you have some new jewelry on too.” Billy pointed at her cast. “Is that in fashion now?”
She smiled. “Broke it on Jamie’s face this morning.”
Billy gaped at her for just a second, then grinned as he pondered her words and took a sip of beer. “Where?”
Her phone went off. It was a text from Millie. “Running,” she answered, reading the text.
WTF did you do?
Stella sighed.
It cannot be on Twitter already
Millie’s response was quick.
It’s on fucking CNN
Stella’s eyes widened at the text.
“What?” Billy looked her phone. “Why would you kicking a photographer in the balls be on CNN?”
There’s a video of you kicking a photographer in the nuts and then cussing at him. Really?
“What the fuck?” Stella examined the text and showed it to Billy.
“Did you see anyone else in the park?” Billy asked.
“There was another photographer, but he wasn’t over there. Just the one guy.” Realization set in. They’d set her up. “Fuck.”
Afraid I’m guilty of that. Going to get my ass sued.
Millie sent a text within seconds.
They’re saying you’ve finally lost your shit
This made Stella laugh. If they only knew.
Are they surprised?
Billy ordered two more beers and Owen sidled over to where they were sitting. “So Stella, who’s your friend?”
“Owen, this is Billy. Billy, Owen,” Stella said, holding her cast down in her lap so that it wasn’t visible. She hadn’t told George yet and she didn’t want it getting back to him before she decided what she was going to tell him. “Billy and I used to live together.”
Owen’s green eyes grew exponentially.
Billy’s laugh was so loud it cut through the bar. “Not even close.”
“No.” Stella shook her head. “I lived with two guys before I moved in with George.”
Owen nodded, contemplating. “You guys are friends?”
“The best,” Stella confirmed.
“Will know you’re here?” he asked.
“Yes.” She laughed uncomfortably. She loved Owen’s Irish accent, so she wouldn’t mind talking to him more, but she really didn’t want him to end up seeing/hearing about her cast. “He told me to tell you hello. I had to tell him that I would be in the news again and it seems like it’s sooner than I thought.”
“What’d you do this time?”
“Kicked a photographer in the balls.”
“He deserve it?” Owen asked.
“Yes.”
He nodded and moved down the bar.
“Odd one,” Billy commented.
“Yes, he is,” she agreed, taking a gulp of her beer. She turned to Billy abruptly. “I think I may stay with y’all this weekend.”
“The silence getting to you?” Billy teased.
“Of course.” She nodded.
“El, I’m not sure what all’s going on, but know you can come back to our house whenever you need to. Your bed’s still there, for fuck’s sake.”
“I appreciate it, Billy. I’ll probably be wearing out my welcome soon enough.”
“You did that a long time ago.” He grinned and pulled her into a side hug.
Chapter Fourteen
Distraction
Confidence exuded through her every pore as she parted the crowd gathered in front of the four microphones set up in front of the National Cathedral. Christine thought it’d be a nice touch to have the press conference in front of a church. Senator Miller had come to them less than 24 hours ago with the reality that his political and personal life was about to explode on the front page of every newspaper in the country. With the 24 hours news cycle, she was all too aware that he’d be on TV and the internet every 10 minutes for the next two weeks. Personally, she always appreciated new headlines—it meant there’d be no stories of her life.
Although everyone in the United States knew her whereabouts and the fact her life was being threatened, no one at her firm or any of the firm’s clients had any idea of the emotional turmoil that bubbled just below the surface of her perfectly straightened hair, exact makeup and designer outfits. She performed her job seamlessly. She wrote competent legal arguments, handled the media with ease and perfected several different fake smiles. The fake smiles were particularly important—they were all smiles for different situations, but covered up her real emotion. Her life was in chaos, but she could do her job. She was happy to be good at something.
“Good morning,” she said into the microphones. Fake smile one, gratitude. “Thank you all so much for taking the time to come and hear Senator Miller’s statement today. The Senator regrets that this statement is even necessary, but as we are all aware, there are some things that the media cannot help covering.” She smiled and the reporters chuckled at her. Fake smile two, amusement with the situation. “Senator Miller is having personal issues that have nothing to do with his duties and responsibilities as a Senator. He’s guilty of having bad judgment, which we all have from time to time, but this in no way compromises his position in the United States Senate.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “That is all we have to say at this time.” Fake smile three (into the cameras), thank you for coming and we’re done. She turned to walk away, confident in her statement. That’s when all questions started.