The Congressman's Whore Page 12

  Steeling himself, he glanced up and caught Upton’s gaze. “I feel robbed of that, and now we’re both being robbed of years of our lives because the world’s too backwards to just accept two men making a private arrangement to meet their needs. We’ll be tied to this long after it’s exited the news cycle.” He took a deep breath and mashed his lips together, then added, “But it means a lot to me you’re... That you want to be in this with me. Be a real team.”

  “I know what it’s like to have to walk it alone.” Upton squeezed Sloan’s hand and then looked over his shoulder and scanned the area. He leaned in. “After we lost Dad, Mom wasn’t together like this. She had a lot on her plate. It took her a while to put herself back together. Whatever else went on with my parents, they did really love each other. I’d always hoped I’d have that.”

  Upton frowned and looked away. “Anyway, setbacks are part of life. Things rarely go perfectly to plan. Usually people aren’t quite this exposed when it happens, but we can do this and seize the opportunities along the way. I agree it’s ridiculous that people are so prudish, but I knew that when I contacted you. I knew it was a risk, but I learned things about myself with Zane, and that was good for me at the time.”

  “Yeah.” Sloan studied Upton for a few moments and then looked away as well. They were sharing so much, such vulnerable moments, and it wasn’t as easy to compartmentalize as the sex they’d shared. This was Sloan, not Zane, and these conversations were far too deep for two relative strangers. These secrets and hopes were never meant to be pried from the bottoms of their hearts and aired under duress.

  It also highlighted a difference between what they’d been to one another up until now and what Sloan could offer.

  Dreading Upton’s reaction, Sloan said quietly, “Listen, Upton, I... I’m not Zane, you know? That’s... He’s part of me, but he’s... These other— My clients, the ones who are so angry...” Sloan struggled with the words, unable to decide on the right way to phrase it. Finally, he blurted, “They probably think you’re getting the world’s best deal, locking me down for the cost of room and board. But I’m not...”

  God, it was so difficult to say, difficult to articulate. He didn’t want to offend Upton or lose his alliance, but he needed to have it said plainly, needed to be absolutely certain they both understood.

  Upton furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “You’re not….”

  “Whatever we’re pretending for the cameras, whatever we... If I’m sleeping in your bed, that’s... It’s going to be difficult, and we’re both going to be frustrated, but... Just tell me that you aren’t assuming it’ll be like it was. I don’t think you’re like that, but I just can’t be married to someone who thinks he owns me, who thinks I’m going to be his personal whore.” By the time he shut his mouth with a click of teeth, Sloan’s heart pounded. He hated how pleading he sounded, how wrung out.

  “No! Oh God, no. I’m sorry. I was trying to let you know that I didn’t expect that. That was Zane, and that was what it was, and that I appreciate it for what it was.” Upton’s face was so red, humiliated and anxious, until he took a deep breath that appeared to steady him. “I apologize I was unclear and upset you. I did not presume that, and I approached the subject inelegantly. Zane was good for me to discover things about myself; I recognize that you are Sloan and that is different.”

  Upton withdrew his hands and set them on the table. “I should set you up in a guest room. We can play it by ear when it comes time for you to move in with me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sloan frowned, feeling stupid, like he’d stepped in it. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel awkward, Upton. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He exhaled heavily and glanced at Upton before staring back at his untouched food. “I’m at a disadvantage here. I don’t...”

  Upton kept his gaze averted but he leaned in to listen.

  Sloan rubbed his hands over his face, forcing a deep breath. Then another. Then another, before he dropped his hands and looked at Upton directly. “I’ve been a loner all my life. This is a lot, very swiftly, and I’m not ready, but I’m running to catch up. I suspect you know a thing or two about what that feels like. But... Look, there’s just been a real dearth of decent men in my life. I’m still a little scared you’re too good to be true.”

  “I understand, Sloan. It’s weird for me, too. I don’t know what to expect. I’m putting my life in the hands of a virtual stranger and trusting, hoping, that you’re all that I think you are, too. This isn’t easy for me. I’m boring. I would never approach a guy like you in the wild. I live and breathe politics. I didn’t even bother to lose my virginity until I was your age. It was unsatisfying and it scared me. I was just starting to open up in this situation I thought was safe and…”

  Tears filled Upton’s eyes, making them glassy. He blinked them back while staring at the tortured-looking brass light fixture above the table. “And this is what happens. I wanted one, small, private thing that was me. Just for me. That no one else in the world would ever know about, and this is what happened.”

  Upton flicked a tear away from the corner of one eye and took another of those breaths that seemed to restore his calm. What was that, yoga? Therapy? “I would also be incredibly uncomfortable with continuing what that was. I never intended for that to be… anything but Elton. Upton is a big prude, if you must know. It’s cost me countless relationships. I thought I’d learn, that I’d be able to… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now. The point is, that’s over. I’m boring old Upton, and I’m sorry you’re saddled with me.”

  What could Sloan say to that? Upton wasn’t the kind of guy he’d pick up in a club. He was beautiful in his own way, for certain, but he was a politician. He was eternally photogenic, television-ready, bland and polite.

  In the wild, Sloan usually picked up the best dancer, the party boy with the wicked smile. He went home with the one who whispered dirty things in his ear, the one who wanted to take him into the back room of the leather bar for something a little more hardcore.

  Upton, sweet and handsome and thoroughly decent, wouldn’t usually register on Sloan’s radar as a prospect, even though Upton Bennett had always been on Sloan’s list of men he admired.

  Still, he liked Upton. Zane had liked Upton, and Sloan did too. Hesitantly, cautiously, but the fact remained.

  “Hey.” Sloan waited for Upton to look him in the eye and then smiled, his best smile, his warmest smile. “I know better than to ever believe you’re prude or boring, Upton. I know better than to ever believe you’re dull. We’re not so different, you and I, and if anyone’s going to find your politics intriguing instead of eye-glazing, it’s me. We’ll build a real partnership out of this before it’s done. Don’t be sorry to me.”

  Sloan gestured to the cooling food. “Now let’s eat our damn food so we can function tomorrow, and you can show me the guest room, and we’ll get on with this weird new life tomorrow. Together.”

  “That was Elton. I’m not that guy any more than you’re really Zane.” Upton huffed and looked down at his food, inscrutable. He took a couple of bites and then sipped his water, staring out the window.

  “Zane’s part of me. Just...not all of me.” Sloan felt weirdly chastised, and he picked at his food, taking a bite without really tasting it. He chewed, swallowed, and added more quietly, “Sorry. Guess we really are complete strangers. I’ll stay in my lane.”

  “That’s not…” Upton sighed and then tried again with the food. “I’m trying to be optimistic and stay focused on the positive. It’s an act of will as much as anything else. But my feelings are hurt. My guard was down and,” he gave Sloan a brief smile, “I’ll be more careful with that.”

  So, Sloan had hurt Upton’s feelings. Upton had let down his guard, and maybe they were getting somewhere, and Sloan had fucked it up.

  He was such an idiot. What did he really think would happen? They’d just have some inspirational bonding moment and become friends?

  He summoned a faint sm
ile for Upton and lapsed into silence. He’d already apologized. What else could he do?

  This felt a whole lot like dinner time back home. Strained, well-intentioned people tied together for life. Awkward, uncomfortable silence because nothing anyone said seemed to close the distance. Sloan would laugh if he didn’t feel so suddenly, claustrophobically depressed.

  He couldn’t even work to overcome it this time. He didn’t have a career anymore. He was dependent on the Bennetts for everything now.

  Time to shut it all down. All his emotions, all his nascent hopes. Closeout. Everything must go.

  Sloan stepped sideways into a different part of himself, a nameless shell that could shelter him through this, and breathed easier. Then he tucked into his food and put it away bite after bite.

  Fuck it. Survival first. Feelings later.

  Upton could take care of himself.

  Chapter 6

  The hot lights felt like they were going to melt Upton’s face off, but he still radiated his sunny smiles as he spoke to Diane Davis, host of The Morning Show in New York. Sloan sat next to him, looking immaculate, as always. Their hands were joined, and the engagement ring his mother had acquired for Sloan rested heavily against Upton’s finger, a reminder that he’d be joined to this man for several years.

  Physical affection came easier to Sloan, so Upton just tried to keep up with adoring glances. That he’d allowed himself to believe for a moment that this could’ve been real, that they could at least be warm friends, felt like a distant reality now.

  They’d had a miscommunication over dinner. In and of itself, Upton could understand why Sloan would be concerned Upton would treat him like a sex slave. Didn’t really make it any easier to sit and hear that Sloan was worried Upton was a rapist.

  Or like his other clients.

  It was a shocking reminder to Upton that they weren’t friends, not really. There would always be that chasm, that perceived power imbalance.

  Not to mention Upton knew he wasn’t the sort of guy Sloan would be into, which made it more humiliating that Upton had exposed so much of himself to Sloan. The joke that Upton wasn’t prude was mortifying.

  Maybe he should’ve communicated more clearly with Sloan that he didn’t want to think about what they’d shared. It made it too difficult to realize that he wouldn’t have that, wouldn’t have anything of the sort, probably for the rest of his life. Upton had been effectively neutered just when he’d started to understand what he did and didn’t like.

  Upton checked his expression in the monitor. He was still beaming, morning television friendly. The cooking segment had wrapped, commercial was ending. Showtime.

  Diane smiled. Her veneers gleamed brightly as she introduced them, exclaiming the exclusive interview with Upton Bennett and Sloan McInnis, ex-prostitute to the Washington DC elite.

  “The preferred term is sex worker.” Upton leaned in, practically stage whispering as if he wasn’t correcting her on national television. He winked and sat back.

  “Oh right, that’s how you two met, right? Not engaged in…” Diane raised a brow and gave a saucy look.

  Upton reached over to give her a playful touch on the arm. “No, Diane. My colleagues, Dana Boyers, Miller Sanchez, and Jeff Polito can attest that we were drafting a bill to protect sex worker rights. I wanted to make sure that what we crafted would truly address the issues. When I heard through the grapevine that there was a sex worker who was going to my alma mater, it seemed like a wonderful opportunity to get input. We spoke over Skype and—”

  “And what were those conversations like? Was there a lot of flirting?” She smiled at Sloan to prompt him to answer.

  “Oh lord, Diane, only from my side.” Sloan’s new persona didn’t mask his Southern drawl like Zane had, like the Sloan he’d known so briefly had. His was drizzled over that deep voice like warm honey. He smiled, and it was simultaneously reticent and engaging, perfectly delivered to suggest he was shy about his past and the boy next door. “Upton, he didn’t take any of my hints. I thought it was because he wasn’t interested, that he couldn’t afford the scandal of flirting with someone like me even in private. He really is the boy scout everyone’s always said, and it was just so charming to me. He’d blush when I teased him, and I just... It was too darlin’.”

  Sloan leaned into Upton’s side and bumped the sides of their heads together, affectionate and playful, but his gaze never left Diane. He was playing to her like an Oscar-caliber actor, winning her over just as Mom had told him to. “But you know, I couldn’t give up on that, even if he didn’t respond. Guess I wore him down eventually, didn’t I? He’s a real gentleman, y’all. We didn’t... You know. He didn’t want to treat me like a sure thing. He courted me, when I finally persuaded him I was serious about him.”

  Sloan turned those doe eyes on Upton, smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he reached over with his free hand to neaten Upton’s collar. The brief, confident gesture exuded possessiveness, intimacy. It was the kind of thing spouses did.

  Sloan’s hand lingered on Upton’s chest a few moments too long to be casual, pushing the gesture into more sensual territory, like he was too deeply in love to pull away. Then he ducked his head and withdrew as if he’d caught himself being bad and shot Diane a bright sidelong grin. “Doesn’t he just make you proud to be American?”

  The small studio audience applauded as Upton gave a mild, humble smile that always tested well.

  “You made him blush! It’s hard to imagine Upton Bennett blushing.” Diane smiled, fake chuckling to herself. “Scourge of the Freedom Caucus, courting and getting married to an ex-sex worker. They must have thought it was a second Christmas when you were caught by the media leaving the hotel room.”

  Upton chuckled back. “Probably.”

  “In fact,” Diane said, consulting her cards, “the journalist in question said that he had seen Sloan leaving hotels before, so when he saw him at a party earlier in the evening, he followed and waited to see who left the room.”

  That was intelligence Upton hadn’t had. It must have been breaking now, or exclusive to the program meant to ambush them. Upton squeezed Sloan’s hand, knowing he probably felt bad about it. Whatever chill there was between them, he wanted Sloan to know he didn’t blame him. It could just as easily have gone the other way.

  “Yes, we met in hotel rooms. It seemed more expedient at the time. My mother and people drop by my condo and before we really knew how serious it was between us, I wasn’t ready to talk about this. Again, I’ve been outed against my will by the press. I probably sound paranoid about that, but apparently not paranoid enough, because once again the media has invaded my personal privacy.

  “If I had been seeing Sloan for his personal services, I would have no shame in that either. But quite simply, I met someone I connected with, someone who shares my interest in politics, whose mind is sharp and quick, who is clever enough to go to the same school as I did. That he’s being reduced—reduced by a job that shouldn’t even be considered shameful—that he’s being made into this caricature is disgusting and offensive.

  “I fell in love with this magnificent man, and while his physical beauty is obvious and easy to observe, I truly believe that as the public gets to know him better, they’ll love him as much as I do.”

  Upton pointedly pulled Sloan’s hand to his lips, angling so that the ring would glint under the lights.

  Diane caught it. It was a band set with diamonds; she’d have been blind to miss it. She leaned in. “Wait, is the announcement that you’re…?”

  “Yes. We’re engaged.” Upton turned and gazed into Sloan’s eyes. He remembered his mad moment of proposing, how truly happy he’d been that Sloan had accepted, and poured all of that into his dreamy sigh.

  “I can hardly believe this is my life,” Sloan whispered, though the mic would pick up every syllable. He gazed at Upton, looking utterly lovestruck, and then looked back to Diane. “He asked me two weeks ago. Got down on one knee and everything.
It was just perfect. We were just swept up in this love, and it was overwhelming, beyond anything I’d ever felt for anyone, and to realize he felt the same….”

  Sloan’s sudden silence turned thick, a little damp, like he was choking on emotion. He shook his head as if begging a moment, tucked his hair out of his face, and then beamed at Upton. “We’d been keeping things quiet—avoiding being seen together—because even once we knew how serious it was, we had to figure out how to tell Upton’s mama.”

  Sloan paused, giving everyone a chance to absorb that. It was masterful, really. Sloan was a born politicker. He shook his head, looking somber, those dark eyes tragic. “Upton’s so close to Ms. Candice, and she’s been through so much already with what happened to his daddy.”

  Another long pause, met with grave silence by the audience, and Upton had to struggle to portray the right emotions, not to feel sick at exploiting his family’s grief.

  Then Sloan went on, his voice soft but determined. “It’s wrong what’s been done to the Bennetts. They’re true patriots, the best America has to offer, and all the tabloids want is to sniff out scandals to sell their rags, to get web hits and TV ratings. Upton and I always planned to go public with this, right here on this show—it’s our favorite, we watch it together when we can spend the morning in bed—but Ms. Candice should’ve known first. Upton should’ve got to choose how his mama found out, and that was taken from him.”

  Mom was in the shadows, but he could see her curling smirk. If she was bothered by being used as a prop, she didn’t show it.

  “Oh yes, of course, of course.” Diane leaned in, eyes sympathetic, expression grave, but Upton could tell she was thinking this was going to be ratings gold. “The fascination with private lives of public people can be quite intrusive, but didn’t you take this on when you entered public life, Mr. Bennett?”

  “Which is why, as when I was outed as gay, there was going to be an announcement, but it was preempted. If that journalist had called to confirm anything before running to TMZ or wherever he got paid, I would’ve told him. He could’ve broken the story, or been part of it.” Upton sat back and Sloan put his arm over his shoulder.