Dirty Little Secrets by Kierney Scott

is a far more interesting story than I ever imagined. I’ll give you your due, Megan, you’re full of surprises.”
    Megan sighed. “What do you want from me?”
    “The truth would be fantastic, but you don’t share that with many people, do you? You’re very guarded.”
    She ignored his question. “I’m not going to give you an interview. Everything is public record now. Rehash it and sensationalise it, but I am not going to give you a quote.”
    James shook his head. “Not everything is public record. Take this picture for example.” He reached into his pocket and produced the photo that had been seen by every man, woman and child in America. But this photo, was different, it was date and time stamped.
    Megan looked away. “I don’t need to see that. I was there.”
    “You weren’t actually. Take a look at the bottom corner. Do you see the time? It was taken at 2:53 a.m.”
    Megan reached for the picture. She cleared her throat as she examined the evidence. “There is no way to verify the date or time. This is not admissible.” She thrust the photo back at him like the sight of it disgusted her.
    “It’s been verified. That’s when the photo was taken. You see how that poses a problem for this narrative you have created?”
    “I’m not sure what you’re getting at but I told you before, I won’t give an interview.”
    “You don’t have to say anything, actually I prefer it if you don’t. I detest liars—”
    “That’s rich coming from you,” Megan scoffed. “I watched the Senate hearings. GMN is nothing but lies and cover-ups. Don’t pretend to be righteous.”
    “There are two things you need to know about me: I had no involvement in the wiretapping or the subsequent cover-up. And I will never use my position to manipulate the media, not to protect myself, my fortune, or anything else. If it’s news, I will report it. And had you watched the Senate hearing you would know I was cleared of any involvement. I was imbedded in a platoon in Iraq when the wiretapping came to light. It would not have happened under my watch.” James stopped himself before he said any more; this was not about him. He swallowed his annoyance and forced himself to pretend he was not bothered by her constant suspicion about him.
    “As I said before, that is not admissible—”
    “We’re not in court. I don’t need to prove anything because we both know where you were when this photo was taken. And we know what you were doing, or more to the point, who you were doing it with.”
    Megan shook her head. “No comment. I told you I’m not giving you an interview.”
    The anger in James began to rise. One thing he could not tolerate was dishonesty. “I don’t want a bloody interview. I want the truth. There is no way you could have been with this man because at 2:53 on Saturday morning, I was fucking you against a wall.”
    His anger was matched by a fire in her eyes. He had unleashed her fighting spirit. “You have no proof of that. As you said, there were no photographers in your house. No one knows where I was or who I was with.”
    “Damn it, woman! I know where you were and exactly what you were doing.” He left out the part about fantasising about it since it happened. She was unbelievable; even cornered with nowhere to go, she would not admit the truth. Suddenly he realised she had not denied it. “Where were you last Friday night and early Saturday morning?”
    Megan took a deep breath. “Every media outlet in the country has reported where I was. It is now a matter of public record.”
    “Tell me. Use your own words. And tell me where you were Friday night. Be honest. We’re off the record. Who were you fucking?”
    “First of all, I don’t call it fucking.”
    “What shall we call it? I don’t know you well enough to call it ‘making love’ and ‘having sex’ doesn’t really capture how intense it was. What we did requires something more reckless, more passionate, more animalistic. I think