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home and getting her out of here.” Jo had to focus harder than normal to make the words come out calm and collected. “Also, her response is ‘no comment.’ She figured it would be easier that way.”
    “Okay, are you coming back here after you take her home? I want to know all about it, what she says.”
    “Have a fucking heart, Jacquelyn! This is her marriage, not some topic of petty gossip,” Jo shot back before opening the door and walking to her desk to grab her things.
    Her blood was boiling by the time she got back to Madeline’s office, so she took an extra minute outside of the door to calm down. Tensions were running high, and she needed to be the strong, steady one right now. She knocked lightly on the door. “It’s me.” Entering quickly, she gathered everything Madeline might need if she decided to lose herself in work this evening and then draped Madeline’s coat around her body.
    Grasping her by the elbow, Jo helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you out of here.” Then, as if shielding Madeline from flashing cameras instead of from the curious eyes of her staff, she hurried her out the front door and made a beeline for her little red Camaro. She always loved its sleek look, but she suddenly wished there was more room for Madeline to sit in and be comfortable. She opened the passenger door and got Madeline settled before jogging around and getting in herself.
    Feeling somewhat safer once she was inside, Jo turned to Madeline and managed a smile. “I’m going to need directions to get you home.”
    Madeline only shook her head.
    “Or,” Jo offered, “you can just give me the address and I’ll type it into my GPS.” She pointed to the device mounted on her dashboard.
    “No, I can’t go home—not yet anyway. If they’re not there already, it’s soon going to be surrounded by reporters.”
    “Well, where do you want to go?”
    “I want a drink.”
    Jo considered this. If she were in Madeline’s shoes, she’d want a drink too, but where could she take her in early afternoon hours without drawing any attention?
    “Do you have a particular destination in mind?” Jo asked.
    “Not a bar.”
    “I figured as much. Let me think.”
    In the silence, Jo considered her options, which were few and far between. The desperation she felt fueled her next question. “How does my place sound? You can have a few drinks there and relax. We’ll play the rest by ear.”
    Jo knew she was crossing a line by offering her place as a refuge for her boss, a risky move maybe, given that they barely knew each other—and some of what the mayor thought she knew about Jo was totally false. There was nevertheless some contentment in her heart when Madeline agreed.
    “That would be nice.” Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a slight smile emerged from Madeline’s grief-stricken face. “Thank you for this, Jo. I appreciate it.”
    Jo squeezed her hand and nodded. There was nowhere else she could have imagined being, though ironically, considering she was a speechwriter, she knew she would not have been able in that moment to conjure up the words to express that.
    There was just something about Madeline Stratton. Every move, every expression, everything she said mesmerized her. Even when she was in pain, she was captivating. Usually when she brought someone home, she had no more on her mind than getting her into bed.
    Not that she couldn’t envision doing that with Madeline, but it was different with her. She wanted to know what Madeline was thinking, feeling. Wanted to be there when things were bad as well as good.
    She delved deeper into her thoughts as she drove, mentally shaking her head. Wanting to throw Madeline into bed—that was a highly inappropriate thought given the circumstances. And the fact that Madeline was straight, of course. She would have to be content just being Madeline’s friend, something she would have once thought impossible.
    Friend? Jo rolled the word around in her mind. Was she