The Candidate, page 12
“It’s just the conservative Right trying to distract us and the voters,” Jane said, frustrated. “And the timing’s rather suspicious, with our first Super Tuesday just a few days away.”
“Yes, it is,” Jack said. “Which gives it all the more reason to take it seriously.”
“It’s just bullshit, and we all know it.”
“Right again,” Jack said. “Now our job is to make sure everyone else knows it, too.”
Jane looked at the three of them. “So what are you suggesting? And for God’s sake, don’t tell me some quick march to the altar.”
Carter laughed hollowly. “Look, Jane. There’ll likely be the usual scrum of reporters when we arrive shortly at JFK. If they don’t bring it up, neither do we. But late this afternoon—after the school reading—you have an editorial board meeting with The Times. I think you should bring it up with them. Say that there’re these rumors going around and that it’s bullshit. That you’ve got nothing against being gay, but that you just don’t happen to be gay.”
The others voiced their agreement, and Jane could think of no other suggestions. “Okay, sounds like a plan. And for the record . . .” Jane could no longer stem the anger slowly rising within. “It pisses me off that they make it sound like such a dirty accusation,” she said quietly, looking away. Sadness tugged at her heartstrings as she thought of Alex, who didn’t have the luxury of denying that she was gay. How often had she had to put up with this sort of crap, Jane wondered. For Jane, the accusation was a mere distraction, an irritant, an untruth. For Alex, it was her life, and there were people out there who would think less of her because of it. It wasn’t fair.
“Jane.” Carter smiled and reached for her hand. “You don’t have to defend yourself to us. But let’s not forget the business we’re in, okay?”
She nodded and squared her shoulders. It was moments like these that she wondered what she was doing in this snake pit called politics. Sometimes, like now, it was only the fact that the end sometimes justified the means that kept her going.
Only one reporter among the two dozen or so at the airport brought up the question of “vague rumors” about Jane’s personal life. She dismissed the question with a warning that the right wing elements in the country would say or do anything to distract her from her agenda, to send her “Blueprint For America” to the back pages.
“Isn’t any publicity good publicity?” a reporter she knew well asked jokingly.
Jane chuckled harshly. “Oh, I think history over the years has proven that theory wrong, my friend. And if you don’t believe me, ask the high-profile Republicans who have had to resign over the last couple of years because of unwanted publicity.”
Later, with The New York Times, Jane brought up the rumors more specifically. She dared her anonymous detractors to show their faces and provide evidence. Ultimately, she blamed it on people who were afraid that she was on the right track with her support for gay rights. They felt threatened, and rightly so.
By nightfall, Jane was emotionally exhausted. She was ready to climb into bed when the doorbell in her hotel suite rang. Steph called out, asking to come in for a minute.
“What’s up?” Jane asked as she let her in. “And please don’t tell me some other crisis has come up. There’s nothing left on the crisis quotient meter tonight.”
Steph beamed. “No. This time I have good news.”
“Well, I could certainly use some. C’mon, spill it, woman.”
“Remember that good-looking judge we were talking about? Keith Henderson?”
Jane nodded.
“Well, you’re taking him out for dinner tomorrow night.”
“What? Steph! I didn’t mean for you to actually—”
“Oh, come on, Jane. I can read between the lines.”
Her signals had been pretty clear, even if she did feel a little mixed about them herself. “But I thought I had Larry King tomorrow night?”
“You do, but you’ll be done in plenty of time, don’t worry.” Steph was looking far too happy about it all. “Since tomorrow’s Saturday, you and Larry have the studio to yourselves. The show won’t air until Monday night. You’re with Larry from six til seven, and then you’re on a date.” She waggled her eyebrows for effect.
“Steph, you’re impossible.”
“I know. You can thank me after your date with Prince Charming.”
Jane closed the door after Steph and leaned heavily against it. She didn’t know whether to be pissed off or relieved to have a bona fide date with a man. And then she thought of Alex again, for about the thirtieth time today, and could not dislodge the disconcerting feeling that she was somehow betraying her. She’d been cruel to Alex with her aloofness and her little speech about nothing ever happening between them again. Truthfully, she’d wanted nothing more than to take Alex’s hand during their discussion in the bus, caress her fingers over the roughened palm, tell Alex that she cared about her too. Maybe even concede that she was attracted to her. But it was just fantasy and it was time to stop this silliness.
I’m sorry, Alex, but I have to move on.
Jane awoke the next morning to a full-blown campaign crisis. Over breakfast in her room, her staff broke the news to her, replete with a stack of newspapers. The front pages were covered with bold headlines claiming that not only was Jane a closet lesbian, but that she was having an affair with her very out personal bodyguard, Secret Service Agent Alex Warner.
“Fuck!” Jane was incensed that Alex was being swept into this mess. Her temples throbbed as anger bubbled hot through her veins. She threw the nearest newspaper across the room and watched it flutter to the floor. “How could this have happened?”
Her aides were just as stunned and outraged. They had no answers.
“These are legitimate newspapers, not gossip rags. What the hell’s going on? I want answers, goddammit.”
Carter looked uncharacteristically helpless. “They’re saying the proof is that the two of you snuck off to Mackinac Island for a tryst.”
“Yeah, with my mother and a whole host of other agents,” Jane muttered. “How did they even find out I was there?”
“Who knows?” Steph supplied. “Could have been an airport worker, one of the islanders. Does it really matter?”
Carter tossed the Detroit Free Press on top of the pile. Staring out at Jane was a closeup photo of Alex, along with a very candid story about her. Jane picked it up.
“My God,” Jane gasped in fresh outrage as she read. The article recounted Alex’s Olympic hockey playing days when she was in her early twenties, her heroics with the Michigan State Police, her lengthy live-in relationship with a fellow cop named Julia that ended a few years ago. The article went on to say that just days before sneaking off to the “Mackinac love nest” with Jane, Alex had had a one-night stand in Detroit with a Republican senator’s very beautiful and very talkative assistant. It quoted her, and Jane was happy to read it out in her most vitriolic tone. “I would never have gone to bed with her if I’d known she worked so closely with Senator Kincaid.”
Jane threw the paper to the floor. “Those bastards! I’m going to sue their asses.”
“No, you’re not,” Jack said. “We all need to calm down here.”
“Does Alex know about any of this yet?”
Carter shook his head.
Jane pushed her cold eggs away, feeling her stomach rebel. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Meantime,” Jack offered, “the best thing we can do is respond calmly and intelligently to this.”
Steph nodded. “We’ll answer every question truthfully and factually. Without emotion.”
“Don’t expect me to act like this shit is just part of the game. That it’s okay, because it’s not,” Jane huffed. “People get hurt by this crap.”
“I know, Jane,” Carter said softly. “It’s fucking low. But Steph is right. If we stoop to their level or act like we’re trying to put up a smokescreen, we’ll be in trouble. It’s best to just carry on and let it pass. Give it the factual attention it deserves and nothing more.”
“We’ll stick to the schedule,” Steph added. “You’ll do Larry King tonight.” She lowered her voice “ . . . and the other thing.”
Steph and Jack rose to leave, but Carter didn’t move.
“What?” Jane looked pointedly at Carter.
He waited for the others to leave and fidgeted in his chair.
“Well?” Jane prodded impatiently. The team was close. They were like siblings, and she knew he wouldn’t be offended by her grumpiness. “Are you going to spit it out or do I have to beat it out of you?”
He sighed loudly, stalling for time. “Jane, I need to ask you something personal.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Has anything happened between you and Alex?”
“What are you talking about, Carter?”
“Like, girlfriend, have you slept with her?”
“Jesus, Carter, no!” But almost immediately, Jane felt the shock of his question begin to flatten out, blur around the edges, lose its impact. She had almost slept with Alex, she reminded herself. If that cell phone hadn’t gone off, they might have made love, and there would have been no taking it back. No denying these vicious rumors. She felt the chill again of having almost done irreversible damage to her campaign.
“Are you attracted to her?” he persisted.
“Carter, what the hell does this line of questioning have to do with anything?” Goddammit, I will not answer that!
“She is a very attractive woman, Jane. There’s a real, you know, sexual power about her. And she can be very sweet and charming. Even I can see that!”
Jane’s hands were on her hips. She stared down at Carter like she were a strict schoolteacher and he a kid she was about to order into detention.
“What?” He shrugged innocently.
“Are you switching teams for Alex, Carter?” Jane feigned seriousness.
Carter’s reaction didn’t disappoint. His eyes nearly popped out of his head and he began to sputter comically. “Wh-what? Me? Switch teams? Are you kidding? Jesus, Jane. Alex is very nice. And good looking. But I am not turning straight!”
Jane laughed. “All right, all right. So, Alex is sweet and good looking.” Yes, there’s no denying that. “So what’s your point?”
Carter sighed with a flourish. “I’m just saying, she might be hard to resist.”
If only he knew how close to the truth he really was. But he didn’t, and Jane wasn’t about to enlighten him. “That sexual power of hers must be pretty damned potent, Carter, if you think I’m powerless to resist.” Except I almost wasn’t!
“Look, Jane. I’m not trying to give you a hard time,” he said gently. “My point is, you know what this could mean to your campaign, to your career, if there’s any merit to this stuff.”
Jane felt her face reddening. She was scared of the truth. Scared that, indeed, she might not be able to resist Alex if there was a next time. But she certainly didn’t need a lecture about how a serious attraction to Alex would be the death of her campaign. “Carter, how many ways do I have to spell it out to you? I am not having an affair with Alex, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay,” he said quietly. “Because I think Alex might be in love with you.”
Jane reeled mentally. In love with me? No. No. Alex had said she cared for Jane, but love? That was one hell of a leap. Sure, there was something special between them, something unique, but . . . love? “Has . . . has she told you this?” Please don’t let it be so.
“No.”
Jane collapsed back in her chair, relieved, and tried to ignore the thin shadow of disappointment. “See? Nothing to worry about, Carter.”
“Jane. This is dangerous.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’m sensing something, and I don’t know if it’s coming from you, or her, or from both of you. But you’ve got to be careful.”
Jane stood up. “Carter, don’t be such a worrywart. Everything’s under control.” And if it wasn’t, she would make damn sure she put it that way.
He raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Look, I’m even going on a date with someone tonight. And Alex is busy having her own flings, remember?” She couldn’t keep the iciness out of her voice. “Now send Lover Girl in here, would you? I’d better tell her what’s going on before she sees the papers.”
Jane, still in silk pajamas and a terry cloth bathrobe, paced until Alex appeared.
“Looks like a tornado’s hit in here.” Alex pointed to the newspapers scattered like leaves on the floor. She grinned at Jane, looking more like her old self. “It’s a good thing your campaign isn’t as disorganized as this room.”
But Jane was already thinking about how she was going to break the news to Alex, and how that silly grin was about to come to an abrupt end. She didn’t want to have to do this, but it needed to come from her. “Sit down, Alex. Something’s happened.”
A look of alarm raced across Alex’s face. Obediently, she sat on the couch, adjusting her gun in that habitual way she had. Jane sat down beside her, clutching a couple of newspapers to her chest.
“I’m afraid the papers have gotten a little nasty with us, Alex.” She looked at Alex and was disheartened to see that she had a look of sullen expectation about her, as if she had come to expect disappointment from Jane lately.
Jane winced. “Alex, I’m sure you heard about the rumors yesterday—the ones about me being a closet lesbian.”
Jane could see Alex mentally shift her gears, even force a smile. “Well, we’re always looking for new recruits, you know.”
Jane didn’t laugh at the joke. “It’s worse today. They’re saying I’m having an affair . . . with you.”
“What?” The color swiftly drained from Alex’s face.
Jane tossed the newspapers to the floor with a thud. She scrubbed her cheeks and tried not to think about wanting to take Alex’s hand in hers and caress it soothingly. She wished so much that she could take the last few days back, start over with Alex. Things had been so messed up between them lately. They might never be right again.
“I’m sorry, Alex. It’s absolutely dreadful, and I never meant for you to get hurt. I just hope you’re out with your family, because if you weren’t, you are now.”
“I . . .” Alex looked numb. “There’s just my brother and we’re not exactly on speaking terms,” she answered quietly. “How did this . . . ?”
Jane reached for the Detroit paper and felt new bitterness toward the nameless woman Alex had supposedly taken to bed. “Looks like your bedmate from last week in Detroit got talkative.”
Alex’s face was turning from white to red. She looked devastated in a way Jane had never seen before. “Sweet Jesus. I had no idea she’d . . . God!”
“It’s true, then. That you slept with her,” Jane said tersely, knowing she sounded accusatory, but she couldn’t help herself. What she really wanted to do was berate Alex for having been so careless, so indiscreet. It was practically begging for this sort of shit to happen. And if she’s supposed to be pining for me, as Carter thinks, then why is she fucking someone else!
Alex was shaking her head slowly from side to side, staring, transfixed, at the floor. “It was a mistake,” she answered quietly.
“Obviously.” Jane felt more hurt than she knew she had a right to. “Alex,” she said and waited until their eyes met. “The best thing you can do is just carry on as though nothing’s happened. We’re sticking to the same schedule. We’re not going to blow this out of proportion. And if anyone asks you questions, defer them to me or my staff, okay?”
Alex nodded absently, still lost in her thoughts.
“There’s one more thing. Steph will give you the details, but I have a special dinner engagement tonight. And I need you guys to hang back on this one as much as possible.”
Alex looked questioningly at her, but Jane jumped up and began cleaning up the papers. She could not bring herself to explain.
Alex tapped her foot impatiently and tried not to stare at Jane and her date across the room. They were dining on shrimp and drinking Cristal, smiling and laughing at quiet jokes, and it was burning Alex up. She and Commander Harry Johnson ate their dinner, trying their best not to look like Secret Service agents. What Alex really wanted to do was march over there and dump her Perrier all over poster boy’s head. He looked far too contented, like he’d just won the lottery or something. The bastard!
“Alex, I wish you’d get out of this mood,” Harry said over his heaping plate of steak and mushrooms. “I know it’s been a hell of a day, but—”
“You have no idea,” Alex ground out. She looked across the room again. Christ! Was that form-fitting black, come-fuck-me cocktail dress really necessary?
“Boy, Jane really handled that Larry King interview well, didn’t she?” Harry said appreciatively.
Alex stared at her untouched plate. Indeed, Jane had handled herself exceptionally well. She’d responded calmly and cleverly to the gay controversy, looking very presidential with just the right mix of indignation, analytical detachment and even humor. The only hint of anger she’d shown was when she told King how unfair it was that an innocent person was harmed in all of this . . . how she herself was fair game, and maybe even her hired staff. But Alex, as a member of the Secret Service, was not. She’d even made the crack that she figured the only way her sex life would ever make the news was if celibacy suddenly became trendy.
Alex had to hand it to her. Jane was spectacular under fire. But why did she feel compelled to go on a date with this guy? Especially after doing such a good job of deflecting the controversy. Now it was going to look like she was trying to prove something. Alex glared at them again. That smug bastard’s trying to get her drunk so he can get into her pants, I know it. And then he’ll probably sell the story. Wouldn’t put it past the creep.
Harry’s chuckling finally got Alex’s attention.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I’m just astonished, that’s all. Jane’s staff says this is the first date Jane’s been on in, like, years. Can you believe that?”
