"I think that's a great idea," Jacquelyn said. She sounded as though she was finally happy to have someone on her side in the matter.

"I'll consider it," Madeline said. "But it'll be on my terms, and it won't be right away."

"Okay. I just think it would be best," Jo added.

"Thank you for that, Josephine," Madeline said.

The use of her full name cut Jo deeper than she had expected. It seemed that even their friends.h.i.+p had disappeared.

"Now, what else was there, Jacquelyn?" Madeline asked, cutting off any further response from Jo.

Madeline's dismissal of Jo's idea, instead of relieving Jacquelyn's curiosity, seemed to have added fuel to the fire of her interest. She had a hungry, even predatory look in her eyes as she continued. "Who will get the house? Will you continue your reelection efforts? And when do you plan to fully return to work?"

"The house and possessions will be decided at a later date. I will continue my reelection efforts." Madeline paused. "Be sure to add something about how my top priority is to serve the people despite the difficulties of my personal life. As for returning to work, I came back today, didn't I? I intend to continue to fulfill my duties as mayor to the fullest. Is that all?"

Jacquelyn pursed her lips, obviously wanting to delve deeper. But she knew when to stop. "That's all for one night. We can deal with the rest as we move forward. Will you be in the office tomorrow?"

"At some point. I'll talk to you more then. Have a good night," Madeline said before ending the call.

Little was said as they finished dinner, although it was obvious Jacquelyn had a million more questions. It was an uncomfortable environment to say the least. Finally, Jacquelyn finished her pasta.

"That was wonderful," she said, rising to leave. "I'll call Ian on my way home and fill him in on everything. I think we can finally move forward. Thank you for having me."

"You're very welcome. Have a good evening."

As Jo walked her to the door, her heart stopped in her chest. The L Word case was still on the coffee table from the other day. If Jacquelyn's eyes drifted that way, she didn't say anything-but that didn't put Jo at ease by any means. If Jacquelyn had questions about that, she was smart enough not to ask them. Which only meant that she was going to do the digging herself. And that, to Jo, was much scarier than actually fielding her queries.

At the door, Jacquelyn asked, "Will I see you at work tomorrow?" Her tone was more than a little condescending.

"Of course. Will I see you?" Jo couldn't resist spicing up the conversation with a little snarkiness of her own.

Jacquelyn forced a tight smile. "Always."

She turned to leave and then turned back for just a moment. "You know," she said quickly, "looking at this couch and seeing the cozy layout of your place, it's hard to imagine Madeline sleeping out here. I would have thought you might have offered the mayor your bed." She let the words linger, and Jo's heart hammered in her chest. She couldn't formulate a response, trapped in her own fear of being found out. "I just thought you might have camped out on the couch yourself. Either way I guess it's probably good for you to have your s.p.a.ce back."

Jacquelyn waltzed out of the apartment, leaving Jo in a whirl of crazed panic. She leaned against the closed door and sank to the floor, feeling dizzy. Jacquelyn's words had achieved exactly what she had wanted them to.

The minute she ended the call with Jacquelyn and Jo, Madeline had to fight to keep the nausea at bay. Of course, she knew the "other woman." John knew how to wound and he had done so by sleeping with Natalie-of all people.

Since she had been confronted with the picture of the woman John had been caught with, her mind had been plagued with concerns over who knew what-who remembered Natalie as Madeline's lover and friend and might come forth with a million-dollar revelation to the media. Far more pressing, though, had been the unbearable sadness that came along with the discovery that the only person she had ever truly loved and been intimate with had stooped to such a low. The fact that Natalie was capable of inflicting so much pain on her had cut the legs right out from under her, turning a seasoned and skilled political mind into that of a weak and damaged woman.

The loneliness she felt glued her to the floor. Before she had been lonely-but she had not been alone. She had been surrounded by people at all times. Now, the silence seemed to echo around her, reminding her that she had no one.

There was no one she could call. No one she could share her pain with. No one she could reach out to for stability. Her sister was flighty and checked out long ago, her father was too busy, too absent. Aside from her circle of political friends-all of whom she kept at arm's length, fearful of them digging too deep into her past and her sham of a marriage-she had no one. She wished she had been able to meld her professional life with her college life, keeping those friends who had meant the world to her in her life, but it had been impossible. The minute she had started climbing the ladder, lobbying on behalf of her father's company, she had been forced to shed her party girl image and the people a.s.sociated with it. Besides, those people knew too much, and it had been smarter to steer clear of them.

There was no one she would reach out to either. With power came responsibility. She would not let an inappropriate relations.h.i.+p with a staff member mar her service to the city she cared about nor would she allow her feelings to compromise Jo's career. She cared about her too much to allow something like this to mark her and ruin her future.

She would find a way to deal with it all on her own-the loss of her husband and the loss and betrayal of her first love.

Back in her vehicle, Jacquelyn tried to process what she had seen. Jo was clearly on edge tonight, reeling from whatever had happened between her and Madeline. Jacquelyn was thankful to have some answers, but she was still curious. Why had Madeline abruptly cut Jo out of her life, after so quickly ushering her in? And why was there a lesbian DVD on Jo Carson's coffee table?

She recalled how Jo repeatedly had come to Madeline's defense, how tenderly she'd looked at the mayor. She thought at the time that there was something odd about that, but she had decided her suspicions were ridiculous. Now, however, Madeline was speaking to her with a chill in her voice and avoiding her. Jo had to have done something that repulsed Madeline. Jacquelyn considered the possibilities. Had Jo made the living environment uncomfortable? Had she perhaps made some kind of pa.s.s at Madeline? Jo seemed to have a world of secrets, and soon, Jacquelyn swore, she would uncover them all.

She smiled to herself; she might have finally figured out a way to torpedo Jo's career. Much as she wanted to rebuke herself for the malicious thought, she couldn't find the will to do so. She could not escape the person she was becoming, even if she had wanted to do so. And the truth was, she didn't want to. Jo could destroy everything she had worked so hard to build; it was time for her to go. First, though, she had work to do.

She pulled out her cell phone. After a quick call to Ian to get the green light, she sprang into action. She had promised to alert the media when Madeline had more to say than "No comment." She would issue a written statement to everyone when she returned to the office, but she thought she'd give a slight jump to the reporter who had been the nicest. It never hurt to help those who had shown tenderness and compa.s.sion, she thought.

She dialed the phone. "Isaac," she said as he answered.

Chapter Seventeen.

Getting back into the flow of a normal work week had not been easy. For the first time in two weeks, the morning's headlines had said nothing about her or her philandering husband, but staff emotions still were running high, with early November winds reminding them that an election was less than a year away and the pace would soon pick up. It would pick up for her most of all, Madeline knew, but for the moment things were oddly calm. The buzz about "Who gets the house? And who loses their dignity?" had finally ceased-at least for the time being, as if the media seemed to have reconciled itself to the fact that there were other stories to be covered.

She was rarely followed by news cameras now. It could have been the inconspicuous gray sedan she had rented in place of her Suburban in hopes of throwing the press off her trail. Someone had tipped off the media that she was staying in the hotel, but after a day of frenzied camera-clicking and microphone-thrusting they had backed off, thanks to some stern words from the hotel's management about pursuing trespa.s.sing charges and the statement Jacquelyn had issued. That, the fact that divorces took time and marking the reopening of a major business that had been destroyed by a tornado the previous year seemed to be keeping the bloodsuckers at bay, at least for now.

Madeline cricked her neck to the left to alleviate the tension building in her shoulders. Her lawyer had been in the office for thirty minutes now, going over all the possibilities of the divorce. She just wanted it over. She was going to give John half of everything, as he had demanded. It was better this way. Despite media revelations about his repeated infidelities, she was ready for it to come to an end.

She had yet to decide if she wanted to pursue another term, though. Publicly, she had stated that she would definitely run, but she was tired and ready for all of this to be over. If she could accomplish in the next few months the goals she had set when she ran, she could announce that she wasn't running, finish her term as mayor and go back to a quiet, private life. She had the money to take some time off for traveling and clearing her head, and then she could return to the work that had landed her into office the first time. Not the family company perhaps-it was time for a fresh start, something other than hiding behind her family's name and money in the place she'd always called home-but there was no shortage of other oil and gas companies that needed someone to work on communications, marketing, strategy or even behind the scenes.

With her experience, going back to the private sector would be easy. What would happen to Jo, though? It was stupid to be concerned about that, she knew, but if she decided not to run for another term the other staff members would simply move on. They'd continue to climb the political ladder, taking jobs in new offices or on new campaigns. But what about Jo? She had never heard her express an interest in staying in politics long term, nor should she. Jo was unequivocally creative with a slew of varied talents, and her time would be best spent writing a novel, singing to entertain or sharing her talents with the world outside of Oklahoma City. Whatever she chose to do, Madeline hoped she would go somewhere where she could live a life of authenticity without having to worry about what everyone thought.

She was only twenty-seven, after all. Madeline felt a pang of jealousy. She had settled down too early, had settled for a marriage devoid of true intimacy, all for the sake of being who she thought she was supposed to be. The oil and gas industry was something she cared about, but not the only thing. If she could do it all over again, there were so many things she would change. Maybe she, too, would have a chance at a more authentic life as a result of all of this-one where she didn't have to run from her pent-up desires.

Madeline brought herself back to the present. She couldn't keep letting her mind dwell on the very person who was responsible for her near moral downfall. She sighed. This had to end-just like residing at the hotel had to end.

Yesterday Ian had pulled her aside. "We need to start looking for a place for you, something permanent, stable. A place you can put down new roots," he had told her. It was easy to read between the lines. What he was really saying was, "Get your s.h.i.+t together, Madeline, and show the voters you're going to be sticking around." She told him to go ahead and contact a realtor. She would start looking at houses this weekend.

Last night, she had looked through materials the realtor had brought to the office, including a flyer for a four-bedroom house with a wrap-around deck. It was beautiful, but she honestly didn't need that much s.p.a.ce. At this point, it was hard to say what she did need.

Her lawyer snapped his briefcase closed, bringing her back to reality again. "Call me if you have any questions, but we'll get you through this."

"Sounds good, thank you." As he walked out, she couldn't recall a word he had said, but it didn't matter. The divorce proceedings could go on without her, as far as she was concerned. John could take everything, and she would still find a way to be happy.

Alone in her office, she stretched her arms above her head. The cycle she had been living lately was exhausting. When she had announced to the staff that she was coming back full-time and that she wanted the appointments she had missed the previous week rescheduled, they had wasted no time in putting together a grueling schedule for her.

She had been in meetings all day every day since-albeit mostly ribbon cuttings and speeches where she could do her business as mayor and then escape-with early retirement to her hotel room for sanctuary every night. There'd been a short press conference too, in which she had addressed basic media concerns without delving deeply into the issues at hand. Even though she was the mayor, she reminded them, she was ent.i.tled to privacy and respect when it came to her personal life.

Luckily, she had managed to do that-even more so since the divorce than ever before. She knew the respect for her personal time had largely been because they viewed her as the victim, and it would soon fade. Nonetheless, it had been a welcome reprieve.

She glanced into the hallway and out toward the cubicles. Jo was not among the staff working there for a change, she was glad to see, though her absence also roused her curiosity. Knowing that she could always count on Gabe for a smile and having not yet conferred with him today, she walked toward his desk, intent on clarifying her day's schedule.

"Good morning, Mayor," he said, looking up from his computer.

"Is it still morning?" Madeline managed a laugh.

"For a few minutes, anyway." Gabe returned her smile. "How was the meeting?"

"It was fine, Gabriel, thank you," she said, hoping to deter further questions. She wanted a nap, a drink or someone to rub the tension out of her shoulders. Her thoughts drifted to Jo's soft hands-but she jerked them back quickly.

"So what's on my agenda for the rest of the day?" she asked him, trying to rein in her thoughts.

"Let's see here," Gabe said, turning to his computer screen. "It looks like we've got you pretty well booked up." He pivoted the monitor to allow her to see the calendar.

"Good. Let's get all caught up. Thanks for the hard work," Madeline said before turning down the hallway to return to her office.

It was best to keep busy these days.

Antonio's had been her mother's choice for their lunch date. The whole thing had been her mother's idea actually. The atmosphere at the overly elegant, overpriced Italian restaurant reminded her too much of her childhood. The Carson family was all for show. Her mother's black dress, pearls, intricately manicured nails, and newest Dooeny and Bourke bag all a.s.sured Jo that nothing had changed.

She looked down again at the pencil skirt she had chosen for the day to appease her. It wasn't going to be enough. It never was. But she was not her mother, although the two of them looked almost identical. Staring across the table at her, she could clearly see what she would look like in a few years. The same hair, same green eyes, same smile. Her mother had hardly aged, it seemed.

There was a difference in their expressions, though. At least she hoped so. Her mother's was more stern, more focused, more ruled by expectation. The expectations had never changed nor had the commands that came with them. Sit up straight. Smile. You can't wear that. Don't say that. What will people think? Jo had heard those and other admonitions a million times. As she sat stiffly across from her mother, they were the only things she could think of.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" her mother asked, raising an eyebrow while directing upon her the soul-piercing gaze that Jo had known her entire life, her mother's way of nonverbally heaping on pressure.

Jo had been waiting for the deeper issues to surface. "Not at the moment, Mom." She took a bite of a breadstick, hoping that having her mouth full would excuse her from making further comments at the moment.

"Jo, you know you can't just work your life away, right?"

Instead of replying, Jo simply waited, knowing her mother would soon continue her speech.

She didn't disappoint. Martha Carson was nothing, if not predictable. "I mean, there's still a chance, even at your age, that you will find someone. You have to put yourself out there, though. Be approachable."

Jo fought the urge to snap back that she was approachable and wasn't sitting at home pining for someone to sweep her off her feet. Her mother wouldn't appreciate hearing the truth, though: that most of the time she was the approacher-always on the lookout for a cute girl with a pretty smile to take home. That's where Madeline had been different-dangerously so. She wasn't some unfocused girl with no expectations other than one night. She was refined, intelligent, driven and complex.

She focused on eating the Caesar salad in front of her. One bite at a time, she'd dutifully consume it and the sermons being served up by her well-meaning mother. And then she'd go on with her life.

"Maybe you could meet him at work," her mother mused.

Are we still on this? And why did I take off of work for it? Jo silently wondered how her mother could go on and on about finding the love of your life when she herself was so unhappily married.

"Are there any nice, handsome, eligible men at work, honey?"

"No." Jo quickly dismissed her mother's fantasy.

"Oh, well, what about at church? Are you still attending regularly?"

"I go when I can, Mom, and, no, there are not any men I'm interested in at the church."

Not at the church-not anywhere.

"How are you and Dad? What's new with you all?" Maybe if she could change the subject, things would move more quickly.

"We're doing well. He has been up at the church working late every night to prepare for the big revival we are having in a few weeks, and I've been working on our latest remodel. When are you coming home next? You'll have to see what we've done with the place. You will hardly recognize it."

"I'll have to come check it out sometime," Jo agreed, trying her best to sound enthusiastic.

"Tulsa is only two hours away. We're close enough to visit you, and your father is always visiting churches here, speaking at events and helping organize community events. This is his hometown, after all. The road goes both ways, you know. Remember-he is the one who helped you secure your job. His connections with the churches here, his acquaintance with Madeline and his deep pockets helped pave the way. That-and the fact that we're your parents-should warrant an occasional day trip, at least. Sometimes I think you forget that."

Always pressing, pus.h.i.+ng and prodding. "I don't forget. I just work close to twice the hours a normal person does in a week."

Her mother's eyes widened. "Oh," she said, drawing the sound out longer than necessary. "Speaking of work, what is happening with your boss?"

"She's going through a rough time." Jo didn't want to discuss Madeline. She tapped her foot under the table nervously, wis.h.i.+ng she were back at the office.

"Well, the media was all over the story for a while. You probably saw...They interviewed that lady a while back-the one her husband was caught with. Pretty woman, but not too bright, if you ask me. She sat there and admitted nothing. It was like interviewing someone who can't speak."

"Maybe she had nothing to say," Jo said. "What would you say if you were caught fooling around with the husband of someone famous?"

"I would never," her mother replied, obviously offended.

"Mom, that's not what I meant. I meant if you put yourself in her shoes, you probably wouldn't want to talk about it anyway. But, having said that, I think she's an adulterous wh.o.r.e."

"Jo Carson, watch how you speak in public," Martha scolded.

"Sorry," Jo muttered. Nothing had changed between the two of them since Jo was a toddler, it seemed.

"I can't believe how working for politics has turned you into such a cra.s.s person."

"I'm not cra.s.s. I'm just tired. I said I was sorry." Jo went back to eating her salad.

"Very well, we'll forget about all of that. But back to your boss. Is this all going to blow over? She wasn't in the news today, but there are bound to be things that people still want to know. Is she going to stay at that hotel they caught her in the other day? Is she going to get a new house? Is she going to run for another term?" The questions poured out of Martha's mouth like a faucet running at full blast.

"All that is being made public is what you have seen on the news."

Martha looked like she was going to pry for more details, but Jo wanted off the subject. "So, tell me about the new Bible study you're leading."

And, just like that, they were onto another subject. Jo breathed a sigh of relief. Her mother continued talking as Jo ate, laying down her fork only when she heard the familiar ding of her BlackBerry.

"Excuse me, Mom," she said, holding up her finger to halt her mother's story-not that she was paying any attention.

It was a text message from Gabe. "Will you bring back some lunch for M? I have her working straight through a break."

Jo pictured walking into Madeline's office with a peace offering of lunch and having Madeline actually speak to her-instead of brus.h.i.+ng her off as she had been doing. The thought of having a conversation with her made Jo smile. Too late she remembered that her mother was watching her like a hawk. She tried to recover.

"Oh," once again Martha drug out the sound too long. It was starting to get on Jo's nerves. "Who is that from?"