Free Underneath It All by Margo Candela

lap. I can feel the tension radiating from the backseat. Mr. Mayor clears his throat and Mrs. Mayor shifts around.
    Danny gets in and pulls into the street. Behind us an unmarked police car follows at a discreet distance. The protection is mostly for Mrs. Mayor due to some overenthusiastic fan, or “fucking nut case,” as she calls him. The press has been hounding the Mayors to pay for the detail themselves since it’s not strictly a city responsibility to protect a former soap opera actress, even if she is the mayor’s wife.
    “What is that noise?” Mrs. Mayor’s voice cuts through the silence.
    I see Danny flinch out of the corner of my eye.
    “It’s my phone.” I hate my phone. I hate Vivian for dialing my phone.
    “Answer it then, Jacquelyn,” Mrs. Mayor snaps.
    “Yes, sorry.” I dig it out of my bag and press it to my ear, wishing I could disappear inside of it. “Hello?”
    “Where the hell are you! I have a dozen reporters here waiting!” Vivian screams into my ear.
    “Oh, hi. Everything is great. We are on our way, see you in ...” I glance over at Danny and he throws up his hands. “In a little bit. Bye!”
    “Was that Vivian?” Mr. Mayor leans forward and I can feel his breath near my neck.
    I turn around and am face-to-face with him. Mrs. Mayor stares stonily out her window. Neither he nor Mrs. Mayor carries a cell phone. That’s what their employees are for.
    “Do you want to talk to her?” I hand Mr. Mayor my phone, my finger already pressing speed dial. I don’t feel like a Judas because I’m convinced Mr. Mayor could never have an affair with his press secretary. Too cliché. His mother may have given him a pass on marrying an actress, but an affair with an employee, a city employee, would be too gauche for her to stomach.
    Mr. Mayor doesn’t notice that his wife has exiled him to marital Siberia and speaks into my phone as if this was just another day at the office.
    “Vivian. Yes, we are on our way. Please double-check about that ... OK. You’re a lifesaver, Vivvy. See you in about ten minutes.”
    “Oh, is Vivvy getting impatient? We wouldn’t want to keep Viv waiting.”
    “Thanks, Jacqs.” Mr. Mayor leans forward and hands me back my phone. “I’m not in the mood for this, Katherine. Not tonight.”
    Danny speeds up.

18
    Vivian
    A s soon as we pull up to the curb, Vivian yanks open my door. She ushers me to the sidelines where generally we spend most of our time when working. From the corner of my eye I see Danny hunch down in his seat and drive away as soon as the last car door is closed.
    “Jacqs, how could you let this happen?” she hisses in my ear through her toothy smile. Her green eyes sweep the perimeter, scouting for rogue reporters and their pesky ears.
    “Hello to you, too, Vivian.” I smile back. We can have complete conversations without actually moving our mouths, like two ventriloquists playing the dummies.
    We both stand back and watch the Mayors go through the motions. The bright TV lights shine in their faces and flashbulbs pop like crazy. Both are all smiles and Mr. Mayor sort of has his arm sort of around her waist. It’s times like these that I realize how gullible people want to be, myself included.
    “How bad is it?” Vivian nods assuredly to a couple of reporters.
    Vivian has a tougher job than I do since she’s accountable to the People, City and County of San Francisco. Vivian has to deal with an aggressive press, irate citizens, and sleazy lobbyists and other politicos. Not that handling fawning celeb journalists, overenthusiastic fans and temperamental manicurists isn’t hard, but it’s not quite in the same league.
    “On a scale of one to ten? I’d give this one about a billion.” I don’t know how much I should share with Vivian out on the sidewalk while we are surrounded by reporters and society gossips.
    “Oh, Christ. What is it this time?” Her cat eyes flicker off to her right and left, as if she’s watching a tennis