Simon shoved open the clinic door as soon as I stepped down from the Tahoe, and proved Con’s theory wrong.
“What the hell is going on, Charlie? I tried to get in touch with you all day yesterday, and you were a goddamn ghost. I get stonewalled by Yve, Delilah, and this jackass.” He jerked his chin toward Con. “Is there something you want to tell me? Because I thought we were past this hot and cold bullshit.”
Con stepped in front of me. “Back off, Duchesne. And don’t you fucking talk to her like that.”
Simon halted in his stride toward me. “You back off, Leahy. This has nothing to do with you.”
“I disagree.” They squared off, and for a minute I thought they were going to start brawling in the parking lot.
I inched around Con and looked at Simon. He broke Con’s stare to look at me. Anger, confusion, and hurt were reflected in equal measure on his face.
Seriously? Did he really have no idea why I might not want to see him? Did he think I was stupid? That I wouldn’t find out? Or worse, that I wouldn’t care? I had to know.
I pulled the folded newsprint from my bag. I’d continued to carry it with me just in case I was tempted to forget. “How’s this for hot and cold bullshit?” I held it out, and our hands brushed as he took it. I jerked mine back like I’d been burned. Simon unfolded the paper, and his eyes darted back up to my face. Understanding dawned.
“Charlie, it’s not what it looks like.” He stepped toward me, but Con blocked him with an outstretched arm and a fierce glare.
I held up a hand and choked out a bitter laugh. “You, the politician, telling your dirty little secret, ‘it’s not what it looks like,’ might be the most clichéd thing I’ve ever heard. Is that what you were going to tell the blonde when she caught you with me?” I swallowed, trying to compose myself. “Just go, Simon. I don’t screw around with guys who are taken.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Don’t you dare call yourself a dirty little secret. I’m not fucking taken by anyone but you. She’s a friend. That’s it. That’s all.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Did you or did you not attend a charity gala with her after you dropped me off at work?”
His lips compressed. “Yes. I did.”
“Then this conversation is over.” I turned away.
“I never lied to you.” Simon’s tone was resolute. I snapped back around to stare at him.
“No, you just gave me selected pieces of the truth. An omission is still a lie, Simon.” I should know, I thought; omissions are my specialty. But if, and when, the truth came out about me, I wasn’t going to split hairs over it. I’d own up to that shit.
“Just hear me out. Please.”
“What could you possibly say that would change anything?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, but her dad backs off when she goes to events with me. As long as he thinks she has a chance at being Mrs. Duchesne, he doesn’t hound her about finding a suitable husband. I let people believe it because she’s an old friend, and it’s my way of helping her out.”
I raised one eyebrow, skepticism branded on my features. “Look,” he continued, “there’s nothing between us like that. I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty damn sure she’s hung up on a guy she thinks her dad won’t approve of. He’s old school and a control freak, and being seen with me just buys her time while she figures out her own shit and keeps her dad off her back.”
The steel reinforcing my spine dissolved in time with my fading anger. His explanation was too candid and random to be anything but the truth. I was fairly confident on that point. But still, there was something else I needed to know.
“Why didn’t you at least tell me about the event?”
He rubbed a hand over his face before gripping the back of his neck. “Because, honestly, Charlie, I forgot. My head is so damn full of you that I can barely think about anything else. Vanessa called me after I’d dropped you off at work, wondering where the hell I was, because the first course was already being served. I ran home, threw on a suit, made it there in time for the main course. I shook some hands and posed for a picture. That’s it. That was everything.”
“And later?”
Simon stepped around Con, and Con didn’t try to block him this time. He’d backed down and was leaning against the Tahoe. He looked like his mind was a million miles away.
Simon framed my face between his hands. “When I see you, it all falls away. The expectations, the politics, everyone else’s plans for me. Everything. Nothing matters but soaking up every moment with you.” He skimmed a thumb across my cheekbone. “I don’t know what else I can tell you to make you believe me. You can talk to Vanessa. She knows all about you because you’re all I talked about the whole time we were together. She also knows Friday was the last time I’d be taking her to an event, because you’re the only one I want by my side.”
I looked down at the tattoos covering my arms. I needed to give him fair warning. “If what you’re looking for is a woman to stand next to you looking poised and perfect for the cameras, I’m not her, Simon. I’m never going to be her.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to be anyone but who you are. And if people have a problem with you, then they can go to hell.”
Con pushed off the bumper of his SUV, finally rejoining the conversation. “Lee has her own reasons for keeping a low profile. The kind of publicity that comes along with you isn’t something she needs.”