know you said there are more snacks, but . . . is there more of that cake you mentioned?”
Olivia waved her toward the kitchen.
“On the counter, in the pink box. Cut me a slice, too, now that you brought it up.” Dessert in the middle of a meal was exactly what she needed tonight.
While Jamila was in the kitchen getting the cake, Olivia reached into the pocket of her yoga pants for her phone. She’d been so intent on talking to Jamila that she hadn’t thought about checking her phone for at least an hour.
Nor, apparently, had she felt it vibrate.
The photographer was as advertised; you look fantastic
And then there was a link to some website she’d never heard of:
Max Powell steps out with a mystery woman!
Here we go.
“I’m a mystery woman!” She waved her phone in the air as Jamila walked back into the room, plates of cake in her hand.
“Oh shit, the pictures are out?” Jamila put the cake down on the coffee table. “How are they?”
Olivia tried not to let her hands shake as she scrolled down the page.
“Okay, I guess? I tried to smile the whole time we were walking around, so I look kind of weird, but mostly fine?” She handed her phone to Jamila. “What do you think?”
Jamila scanned the pictures and nodded.
“I think you look great. I mean, I see what you’re saying about the smile, but it’s fine, don’t worry about it. And your outfit is great.” She held up the phone to Olivia. “And that one? It’s perfect. The way Max is looking at you? Every woman in America will be jealous of you.”
Olivia took the phone back to see what Jamila was talking about. She’d concentrated on how she looked in all of the photos; she hadn’t stopped to look at Max. But Jamila was right—in the third picture, she was smiling that weird smile and looking straight ahead, while Max was looking straight at her and just . . . beaming.
That look on his face made her fall in love with him all over again.
“Wow,” she said. “This might have all been worth it, just for that picture.”
Jamila handed her the cake.
“I wonder how long it’ll take the press to find out who you are.”
Olivia clicked on the picture to save it to her phone.
“Hopefully weeks. Maybe months.”
Chapter Fifteen
It took until 10:25 Monday morning. Olivia was at her desk at work, her gossip with Ellie over, her third coffee in her hand, when she got the first call.
“Is this Olivia Monroe?” the caller asked.
“Speaking,” she said. “How can I help you?”
Olivia hoped it was about that potential pitch to Clementine, a huge local biotech company. Bruce had introduced her to someone in their legal department, and she’d had coffee with him the week before in the hopes that she and Ellie could get some of their vast amount of legal work. If Monroe & Spencer could get some Clementine business, maybe she could finally take a deep breath.
“Can you answer some questions for me about your relationship with senator Max Powell?”
She froze. She’d expected some warning before this happened. From Max, or his office, or something. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to say.
“Um, no comment,” she said finally, and hung up the phone. Then she texted Max.
I just got a call from a reporter—is there something I’m supposed to do?
“Ellie!” Ellie came running into her office.
“Was that a good call?”
Olivia made a face.
“The opposite. It was from a reporter. I texted Max, but during the day he’s usually so busy I don’t hear back from him for hours. I don’t . . .” She picked up her coffee, then put it down. “What am I supposed to do? They didn’t prepare me for this.”
Ellie sat down.
“What did you say?”
Olivia stared at her phone, willing Max to respond.
“ ‘No comment,’ which made me feel like I was on TV or something. Is that what people actually say?”
Ellie got up.
“Yes, that’s what people actually say. Just keep saying that until you hear back.” She came around Olivia’s desk and leaned in for a hug. “You knew this was going to happen, right? This will be fine.”
Olivia nodded slowly.
“I mean, I guess I knew it would happen eventually, but this was all so fast. I guess I just wasn’t ready.”
The phone rang again, and she and Ellie looked at each other. Olivia took a deep breath and picked it up.
“Olivia Monroe.” She paused for a second, and locked eyes