How It Ended: New and Collected Stories - By Jay McInerney Page 0,148
the other campaigns. If it were one of the tabloids, he says, they would have offered her cash right up front.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” I say.
“Just go back to the cabin,” he says. “If you see anybody, call the sheriff. Then call me.”
There's nobody waiting at the gate and no cars visible at the cabin when I pull up. I'm putting the groceries away when I look out the kitchen window and see a man in a camel-hair coat standing on the back porch. He jerks his head in my direction after the jar of Ragú smashes on the kitchen tiles. The only thing that saves me from a full-scale myocardial infarction is the fact that I recognize him. He's standing out there, not sure what to do, probably wondering what I'm going to do.
When I catch my breath, I walk over and pull open the sliding glass door. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I say. “This is private property, and if you don't get your ass out of here, I'm calling the sheriff.”
“Sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to scare you.”
“What did you mean to do?”
“I just wanted to talk.”
“I already told you. I've got nothing more to say.”
“Yeah, well,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”
“Okay, here I am. Get a good look, and then I'm calling the sheriff.”
“Please,” he says, with this pathetic look on his face. “Can I come in?”
“Hell no,” I say.
“Well, you come out, then. Just give me five minutes.”
“It's freezing,” I say. “Just come in.”
“Thanks,” he says.
I walk out to the great room and plunk myself down in one of the big club chairs with my arms folded across my chest. “What are you doing here?”
“My job?” He shrugs.
“Harassing me is a job?”
“Actually, I'm not entirely sure why I'm here.”
“What does that mean?”
“I wanted to see you again. You wouldn't return my calls.”
“How'd you find me?”
“I can't tell you that.”
“Protecting your sources?”
“We all have our secrets.”
“Not me. My life's an open book.”
“Which is why you're hiding out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not hiding. I just needed some time by myself.”
“Must get a little lonely down here.”
“I was enjoying the solitude. Builds character. You should try it sometime.”
“I don't think I'd like it. I'm a people person.”
“I can't believe you just said that.”
“It was supposed to be funny.”
“It was, trust me.”
“So?”
“So?”
“This is the part where I ask you if Skeet Jackson's a good friend of yours.”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because according to county records, he owns the place.”
“Oh, right,” I say. “Skeet's an old friend of the family.”
“So he just lent you his house? Help me out here. Why did he lend you his house?”
“I told you. I just needed to get away. Do some thinking. A little writing. Skeet offered.”
“Awfully generous of him.”
“Skeet's a generous guy.”
“He's been very generous to Senator Phipps.”
“Let's cut the shit,” I say. “Why don't you just come out and say what it is you want?”
“I wanted to see you again.”
“Right. And I'm here for the deer hunting.”
Of course, as soon as I say that, I realize I'm sort of dropping the pretense. We both know why I'm here. I first met Frank about six months ago, when I was working on the campaign, at a party in D.C., although I didn't know he was from Below the Beltway at first; some fucking media consultant I turn out to be. I'd had a couple of cocktails and he asked me where I worked and I'm telling him about the senator, and when he finally gets around to telling me he writes a political blog, I'm worrying that maybe I've said a little too much—that I was a little too free and easy about my closeness to Tom, partly because he was cute and I wanted to impress him at the same time that I wanted to keep him at a distance and remind myself that I was totally taken. All of a sudden he asks flat out if I'm dating Tom, and I say, of course not, so he says, “Well, then, will you come to dinner with me tomorrow night?” So I end up having dinner with him just to throw him off the scent, although it's not like it's such a chore, since he's about as hot as a habanero and Tom's been at the lake house with his family the last four days.
I realize if I'm not careful, I could get into a sticky situation, so I have the genius