Page 18 of Notorious

I hold up my hands. “Don’t worry. I don’t care much for politicians, either.” Then I feel bad for saying it so plainly. “’Cept you, of course.”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not going to shame sex workers. Not at all. And I certainly don’t want to shame you. I’m a fan. I think you’re amazing. I just don’t know you. Or, rather, I don’t know who you really are.”

“Not many do,” I say lightly.

Ain’t that the truth.

“We really can’t ignore this”—he gestures at the marriage certificate—“no matter how much I might want to.”

“Yep. Mama says runnin’ from a problem’s the best way to slam into a new problem.”

Kurt keeps shifting his weight. It’s adorable, actually—sweet man trying to find a way to get out of being married to li’l old me. If he was a better politician, he’d be used to saying whatever lies he needs to and hiding how he really feels. Politicians act just as much as any professional actor.

The fact that he’s not doing a great job of it makes me like him more. Kurt’s no liar, even if he wants to be a politician.

“I’m completely accepting of adult stars,” Kurt insists. “I just don’t think it works with the image I’m trying to portray. And my mom’s looking at a White House run.” He bites his lip and does a little dance. “You know what? I’m making a mess of this conversation, and I’m sure part of that’s my fault, but another part is because I’m hungover and really need to pee. Lemme have a few minutes in the bathroom, and then can we try this again?”

I squeeze his shoulder. “Of course, darlin’.”

Kurt gives me a shy smile, and his gaze lingers on my face. I have the strongest desire to lean down and kiss him, but I don’t. He heads into the bathroom to put himself to rights, grabbing his tuxedo shirt on the way.

As I watch his pert butt scoot in there, I shake my head and try to remember what the heck happened last night. Other than me getting hitched to a stranger, that is.

Shit. How am I supposed to go through with my plans if I have a husband? Mama needs her money. The faster we get this here marriage annulled, the better.

A thought strikes me, and my stomach bottoms out. There’s no way he’d get the money, right? Now that he’s my husband? I think they have to send it to whoever I say, but I’d better be sure. The violins wail in my brain. With my heart pounding, I do a quick Google search that confirms he won’t get my life insurance, but that doesn’t calm my brain down much. I need to check in.

Johnny

How are you feeling this morning?

Mama

I guess I’ve been better, but you know that. Don’t you worry about me.

Johnny

I’m always gonna worry about you.

Mama

I know, son. But we’ll get the money somehow. It’s not your responsibility. You already do too much for me.

Johnny

No such thing. Yeah, you’ll get the money. I’ll make sure of it. I love you, Mama.

Mama

I love you, too.

Kurt’ll need something to settle his stomach, so I order room service. A big pot of coffee, a greasy breakfast and a healthy breakfast—I’ll have whichever one he doesn’t want—a big pitcher of orange juice, and some toast. Hopefully something in there will soak up the alcohol and make him feel better. While I’m hungover, I’m not as knocked out as he seems. Maybe because I’ve felt so bad for so long that alcohol don’t matter none.

Normally, I’m saving every penny to help Mama out, but the organization in charge of the award paid for my trip, and the room came with an allowance that I haven’t used. So I can afford to spoil Kurt a bit. Besides, I don’t think we should go anywhere until we figure out what we’re going to do next.

One thing I know for sure: A failure like me doesn’t get to keep a cutie like him.

CHAPTER 7

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