The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,102
is not exactly discreet.”
I open my mouth to interject, but she holds up a hand, cutting me off.
“There’s no defense, Lenn. We don’t do this, and you know it. This Monica Lewinsky shit, not a good look.”
“Monica Le—”
“I know it’s not what it looks like. I know the truth about you and Maxim. I was in Amsterdam. I’ve seen it from the beginning.”
“Not from the beginning, no,” I tell her quietly. “You weren’t there when I was seventeen, and the most amazing man on the planet dropped into a desert and put himself in danger for me. That man needed me last night. He’s hurting, Kimba. Doing this so soon after Owen . . . it’s a lot.”
“Yeah, well, doing you is not helping,” she says with the first hint of a smile.
“I know.” I blow out a quick breath. “I should have handled it differently, and I’ll be more careful.”
“Yeah, you will, or you’ll be off this campaign.”
That sobers me. We’re equal partners, but I have no legs to stand on here. From the beginning, we agreed we’d never be sexually involved with our candidates. The fact that she’s made the concessions she already has is a miracle. And she’s right. It’s bad optics. Bad business, but it doesn’t feel fair. In hindsight, weathering the small storm a relationship between Owen’s brother and his campaign manager would have caused is nothing compared to the scandal of a campaign manager and the candidate being “caught” with their pants down.
“Let’s get this over with.” Kimba sighs and knocks.
Glenn pulls the door open, his smile smug and his posture relaxed. “Ladies, come in. I’ve been expecting you.”
We walk in and he gestures to the sitting room couch. “Please, sit. Let’s hear it.”
“Hear what?” Kimba lifts a neatly threaded brow. “Us reminding you about the NDA you signed along with your contract? You just heard it.”
“Oh, surely there’s more than that to sweeten this deal.” He sneers and rakes disdainful eyes over me. “Miss High and Mighty got caught fucking not just any candidate, but Maxim Cade, the press darling. That’s a juicy story, and you know it.”
“One you don’t get to tell,” I say, my voice even, but knife-edge sharp. “Per the NDA we keep having to bring up.”
“Oh, there are ways around an NDA,” Glenn says, deliberately eyeing my breasts and dragging his stare over the length of my body. “Offer me something, Nix.”
“How’s this for an offer?” Holding his stare, I lift my middle finger. “’Cause that’s the closest you’ll ever get to fucking me.”
“Lenn, you know we have to give him more than that.” Kimba leans forward and raises her hands, both middle fingers up. “I’ll double the offer.”
Anger mottles his expression. “I’ll talk,” he spits.
“Do it.” Kimba leans back and crosses one skinny-jean-clad leg over the other, flicking her silver Tory Birch ruffle sneakers. “And not only will I sue your ass, but I’ll make sure everyone in town knows you were so inept, your writing so lackluster, we couldn’t get the candidate to even use your speeches.”
“That’s not my fault,” Glenn snaps. “The guy barely uses speeches. Half his stuff is off the cuff, and you know it.”
“And Lennix is a damn good campaign manager who has earned her reputation working hard, not sleeping around,” Kimba replies calmly. “And you know that, but it’s all about perception, yeah?”
“Look, we can give you a letter of recommendation,” I offer, my expression softening. “And an apology.”
His eyes flick to mine at that and he frowns. “An apology?”
“Glenn, I had no idea you had . . . feelings,” I say softly. “We’ve worked together for years and been friends. I hate seeing it come to this. I want you to know it’s not some affair. Maxim and I are in a serious relationship.”
“Lennix,” Kimba says, various warnings in the one syllable.
“I love him, Glenn,” I continue, gambling that the guy I’ve worked with over the years to elect candidates we both believed in is still there somewhere. “This isn’t some tawdry campaign fling.”
“It isn’t?” Glenn asks, a small frown denting his brows. “I didn’t realize it was serious between you two.”
“It . . .” I look down at my hands. “It is, yeah, and we’ll share it when the time is right. Now is not the time, and we’ll do it when we’re ready. In the meantime, there’s an NDA that says you won’t talk about the things you saw here on the campaign, but that shouldn’t even be the