“They aren’t pictures. They’re still frames from a video.”

Oh, fuck. Yeah, I remember that. She wanted to see herself with me like that—bound, at my mercy. The camera was a thrill at the time—for both of us. But fuck. “So it’s over? Everyone knows?”

The blonde reaches across the coffee table and offers her hand. “I’m Erin McDaniel, Governor Guy’s campaign manager.”

Sabrina flashes an apologetic smile. “It’s okay,” she says slowly as she narrows her gaze on me. “I told Erin the truth.”

“The truth?” I shake my head. Maybe I’ve had more to drink than I thought.

“And Connor knows too,” she says. “Everyone knows that’s you and me in the video.”

I lean back in my chair and stare at Sabrina.

“It’s unfortunate the video was leaked to the press,” Erin says. “And as much as I’d like to go back in time and talk you out of bringing a camera into the bedroom, what’s done is done. The video is out there. Now we need to do damage control. Christine’s more conservative supporters are already beginning to back away.”

I turn to Sabrina. “How drunk am I? Because I thought I knew a little bit about politics, but I can’t figure out for the life of me what my sex life has to do with the presidential election. It shouldn’t matter.”

“You know that,” Sabrina says. “I know that. But this is America—land of the free, home of the puritanical.”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and rub my temples. “Can’t we stop them from airing this?”

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina says softly. “The best we can do now is . . .” She looks away, something ticking in her jaw as she studies the opposite wall. “We just have to make the best of a bad situation. We admit we’ve been having a secret affair and that I’m a giant hypocrite about premarital sex.”

“Sabrina—”

She shakes her head. “It would help my mother a lot—it would help me—if you’d be willing to say this isn’t just sex. That we’ve been seriously involved for months.”

“You don’t think people will question why we haven’t been seen together?”

Erin clears her throat. “You say you didn’t want your relationship to look like a political move, so you were keeping it quiet.”

Sabrina reaches across the coffee table and takes my hand in hers. Her fingers are long and slim and feel cold under the hot palm of my hand. “We have to do this.”

Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any more fucked up. “How did the tape get leaked?” I ask. We should have destroyed it. Or never made it to begin with.

“We don’t know,” Erin says. “We have people looking into it, but right now we need to focus on damage control.”

“It could be worse,” Sabrina says.

Yeah, no shit.

I pull my hand from hers and scroll through the images on Connor’s phone again. I forgot we even used the camera. It only happened once—one night when she whispered the fantasy in my ear. But once is all it takes.

As much as I hate to be involved in any kind of political maneuvering, I don’t want this ruining Christine’s chance at the White House.

“Okay,” I say, looking at Sabrina. “We’ll make the best of it.”

Erin’s shoulders sag. “Fabulous. We’ll get to work on the story right away. America might be a little squeamish about bondage, but they love a love story, and hey, that Fifty Shades book did great, right? This can work in our favor if we spin it right. We’ll release a statement tomorrow and get you on the morning show circuit for next week. We’ll want you by Sabrina’s side for campaign stops and we can leak to the press where you’ll be on a couple of dates before—”

“Wait,” I say. “Stop. I said I’ll tell the press we’re involved. I never agreed to carrying on some elaborate charade.”

“Right,” Erin says. “Here’s the thing. I don’t do halfway. That’s why I’m good at my job. Halfway will only get Governor Guy halfway to the White House, in which case we should just quit now and let America think Sabrina is a dominatrix with loose morals.”

“Submissive,” I mutter.

“If we’re going to do this,” Erin says, ignoring me, “we need to do it right. America will think it’s creepy that you two like kinky sex. Spin that into a secret love affair, and suddenly the country is on your side. We can make this work if we proceed with a plan. Can we count on you?”

It’s like the beginning of a nightmare, only the one I was already living was much worse. “I don’t want—”

“It doesn’t have to be all that,” Sabrina says. “Let’s keep it simple. One step at a time. I’m hosting a fundraiser in Indianapolis Saturday night. It would mean a lot if you’d show up, get some face time next to me, maybe make a statement to a journalist or two. If you decide you’d be willing to help us more after that, great, but right now that’s all I’m asking. One night.”

* * *

Liz

It turns out the water in my shower doesn’t get hot enough to wash the image of Sam and Sabrina out of my mind. I know because I tried.

I step out of the shower, dry myself off, and pull on my pajamas. When I go back out to my living room, Hanna is on my couch and the twins are sitting at her feet, long strands of drool streaming from their mouths as they chew on identical sets of toy keys.