Page 55 of Notorious

Now I have to figure out how to fit Johnny into my election plans. After that, I’ll worry about what he and I are going to do once he gets out of the hospital.

I call Paige next. She sounds pissed when she answers. “Oh, now you’re talking to me?”

I flick my eyes to the car ceiling, even though she can’t see me. “I’m sorry, okay? Look, I know I’ve made your job a lot harder, and we’ll have to deal with the press, but I like my husband, and I don’t want to hide him.”

There’s only a brief silence. She’s probably already got three contingency plans outlined and is just trying to decide on the best one. “Well, we’ll need to get him some media training, and then he can come to a press conference,” she says. “What’s his availability this week?”

“Um.” I pause. “About that.”

“What?” Her voice is sharp. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I had to check Johnny into a hospital. It’s none of your business, but he needed to get some help.”

“Oh my god, is he on drugs? Holy shit, Kurt. Just when I thought you couldn’t be a bigger PR disaster, you have to marry an addict?”

“He’s not an addict,” I say quickly. “And even if he were, addiction’s a sickness, and getting help is a good thing. Be nice.”

“Sorry,” she mutters. “I’m on edge. That was rude of me. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Fine. In any case, he’s in the hospital for a different reason. I’m going to respect his privacy. Just know that it will be a few days—likely until next week at the earliest—before he can go out in public. Maybe longer.”

“Fine. Good. I’m glad he’s getting better.”

“Thank you. Are you making progress with managing my mess?”

“Kind of. I should’ve gone into fashion design,” she mutters. “Fabric doesn’t talk back.”

“I know our marriage seems random”—because it was—“but either I win the election with him, or I figure out something else to do. That’s all there is to it.”

“So the election is unimportant all of a sudden? You couldn’t have, I don’t know, waited a few months to get married?”

I take a deep breath and hold it as I turn from the windy mountain road onto the highway. “There are other elections and other positions I could run for if I don’t get this. I’m shooting for the moon right now, but if I don’t make it, that doesn’t mean I can’t be on, I don’t know, the local school bond committee or something.”

“You don’t have a kid.”

“They need members of the public. And that’s beside the point. All I mean is, he can be integrated into my campaign.”

And my life.

“Fine. Whatever.” She heaves another sigh. “We’ll talk about it when we meet next. We also have to get you ready for the pre-primary debate. When can we schedule you for debate prep?”

“Whenever,” I say. I’ve emailed my boss and HR to take time off to care for Johnny, and in any case, I’ve scaled down to part time during the campaign and can set my own hours as long as I get the work done. So I should be okay for the time being.

Part of me is wondering if I should just give up the day job anyway. It’s not like it makes me all that happy. Sure, I like graphic design and nerding out on fonts, but I could do that on my own. I can find another option for health insurance.

“Where’d you go?” Paige asks.

“I’m on PCH.”

“No, I mean where did your brain go? You got quiet.”

“Sorry. Just thinking. Yes, schedule a meeting, and we can go over talking points.”

“Fine.” My phone beeps with another call.

“Paige, my momth—er, Melissa?—”

“I’ll let you talk to the lieutenant governor,” she says, and hangs up.

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