Shit.
Vivian
Alright, hun, I think I can understand Carter cancelling yesterday. I mean, he’s got a problem with someone inside of his team or someone outside who’s trying to screw him. When a Democratic Governor gets accused of sending jobs over to Communist China, the last thing he probably wants to do is go out to Le Cirque with a Senator who is an avowed Independent and likes sex, and a Republican playboy mayor. At least, not to a restaurant where a steak costs $115 before sides.
So yeah, I mean, I can totally understand calling off dinner. But then, as the situation gets worse the next day, I would have maybe thought he’d give me a call to keep me apprised of the situation, you know?
But even if he didn’t I guess I can understand that. He’s probably thinking that it’s best right now to be in lockdown mode—completely hermetically seal himself off in a bubble. That’s why he’s a man, and I’m a successful woman.
When shit like this hits the fan, I usually go the opposite route. Go find allies as quickly as I can, and build a wall. It’s how all the times in the past some zealot has tried to make an issue about me being a "fallen woman" I’ve had the political capital and firepower to blow them out of the water.
I mean, I’m telling you this, but you probably already know. When you’re in trouble, you can retreat, or you can reach out to those closest to you.
I would have told this to Liam over dinner yesterday night, but we both decided over text that if Carter was in trouble, maybe we should just postpone by one night. I mean, we’ve actually done a lot of progress on getting these guys to see eye to eye. And I think we’ll like the outcome.
But dinner tonight? I got a phone call from Liam a couple hours ago, where he politely begged off.
"I just need some stuff I gotta fucking do," he said into the phone.
I thought to myself that either something else has happened or he’s a bit worried. Maybe even someone on his team is telling him to put some distance between him and I.
"Is everything okay?" I ask. Sure, I’m a bit worried.
"It’s fine…" Liam says and trails off. "Just some things I got to sort out."
Well, that leaves me with no plans for dinner, you know? I mean, if I had known, I’d have flown back to DC. I was really hoping to let our relationship—or whatever we have going between both men—grow and evolve.
I know, I know. I’ve been hot and cold with both of them. First I sleep with Liam. Then I have sex with Carter. But, you got to understand, hun, after each time, I just couldn’t decide.
I still can’t choose.
Liam has qualities that are irresistible. Carter has facets that make me want him more than anyone else. I can’t get either men out of my head.
That’s why I pulled away from both of them.
That’s why I stayed away.
And then…in the limo?
Let’s just say I got tired of not being able to decide. And let me tell you, babe—indecision paid off.
But I don’t know if I can keep doing this.
I mean, have you ever heard of a public servant—a Mayor, a Governor, or even a Senator having a relationship like this? Who would even vote for me? The Anti-Monogamy Party? Yes, it really does exist, by the way.
This entire situation is wrong. It’s immoral. It’ll cost me votes. It’ll give fuel to the fire for those people who paint me as this oversexed corrupter of Western democratic values. The Conservatives will hate me for sleeping with a Liberal. The Liberals won’t like that I’m sleeping with a Conservative. Pretty much the only people who will be in my camp are women who like hot men.
Don’t smile. This is serious.
This is what I’ve been thinking about all night—after a quick salad for dinner and a few glasses of wine.
I’m lying in bed, lounging after a long hot bath, and wondering just where in the hell I’m supposed to go.
I haven’t watched any television today. Cut myself off from the news. All so I could think about what kind of a grave I’m digging for myself.
I mean, imagine a life with Liam and Carter as we try to juggle our political careers.
Mmmm. Actually, let’s just imagine Liam and Carter first.