The Candidate, page 6
The day passed in a typical chaotic blur of speeches, shunting around and handshaking. It wasn’t until early in the evening, when it was time to fetch Jane in her hotel room for the short drive to Temple University, that Alex saw her first opportunity to get her alone.
Alex shouldn’t have been surprised by the sight of Jane, not after all this time, but she was. Jane was breathtakingly gorgeous and looked far too rested and radiant than she had a right to. A tight-fitting, forest green thigh-length dress clung to her long, slim body. A bare shoulder glowed tantalizingly where the dress dropped off on a slant, a string of pearls glimmering around her smooth neck. Alex found herself wishing the dress were shorter, more mid-thigh than just above the knee. She was being juvenile, Alex knew. It was wrong and forbidden. But Jane was a very attractive woman, and Alex was human. She could pretend all she wanted that she hadn’t noticed how Jane looked, but it would be a sham. Oblivious to Alex’s appreciative appraisal, Jane slipped into a stark, white blazer, covering that luscious shoulder. Her usual lightning-quick smile was still absent and Alex felt a fresh wave of concern. For the hundredth time, she berated herself for having offended Jane.
“Jane, before we go down, can I have a minute?”
Dark eyebrows rose. “Of course,” Jane answered flatly. “What’s on your mind, Alex?”
They stood several feet apart, Alex feeling awkward. For a moment, she considered high-tailing it out of there and forgetting the whole thing. But she’d come to make amends, and that’s what she would do, whatever the cost. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
Alex blinked her surprise. “For what I said on the bus.”
Jane looked at Alex as if she were speaking another language.
“I—I asked you if you were still running away. From what happened to you. I’m sorry. I know I upset you. It wasn’t my place. It won’t happen again.” The words fell out all at once.
“Oh, Alex.” Jane winced. “I’m not upset with you.”
“You’re not?”
“No, of course not. I was the one asking you all kinds of personal questions, remember?”
Alex nodded and suddenly felt utterly ridiculous. “I’m sorry. I misjudged.”
Jane leaned back against a low mahogany table, crossing her arms in front of her, looking miserable again. “No, you didn’t entirely misjudge. I have been upset today.”
“Then it is my fault.”
Jane smiled reassuringly, graciously, and Alex’s worries began to lift, like a balloon.
“Alex, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that, what you said—it did make me examine some things, ask myself some hard questions.” Jane turned her back to Alex, her hands spread across the table, her shoulders slumped. “It got me questioning if that’s what this campaign is about, in part. Me running away from my loneliness, my pain. Overreaching. Trying to prove to myself and to everyone else that I’ve got my shit together enough to run this country, when in reality, I am no more together than anyone else.”
Alex stepped closer and gently touched Jane’s shoulder, which was stiff with tension. Jane slowly turned around and Alex saw that she was on the verge of tears. A surge of panic welled up. Sweet Jesus, I did this to her! If she quits this race, it’s all my fault. I’ve got to make this right.
Alex mustered her courage. She wasn’t so good with words. She preferred brute force to this nurturing business. Please let me say the right thing, she prayed. Her hand was still resting lightly on Jane’s shoulder. Holding Jane’s watery gaze, she took her time, mentally rehearsing her words. The very future of this country might depend on what I say next. She swallowed before she spoke, and hoped Jane didn’t notice how nervous she was.
“Jane, you are not running away from anything. You have been running to something, to serving this country in the highest form possible. And you were right this morning when you said I wasn’t the only one who faced up to danger. You’re not afraid of anything either. Don’t you see that what you’re doing is the most courageous, responsible, admirable thing you could possibly do with your life?”
Jane flinched but she said nothing.
“Jesus!” Alex exclaimed, her own emotions surfacing. “I would run naked into ten burning buildings before I’d do what you’re doing.”
Jane’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk, much to Alex’s relief. “Okay, now you’re giving me a mental image.”
Alex laughed. “Sorry.”
Jane was looking devastated again, her face contorted in a private pain that was beyond Alex’s comprehension. Alex quickly closed the few inches between them and, without hesitation, wrapped her arms tightly around Jane’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug.
Jane began to clutch back so tightly, it almost hurt. She buried her face in Alex’s shoulder, and Alex smiled at the faint, sweet and now-familiar fragrance. Alex breathed in, trying to capture the unique scent, wanting to store it in her memory. Having Jane so intimately in her arms didn’t feel nearly as strange as it should have. On the contrary, it felt incredibly easy. And nice. Alex felt a comfortable warmth settling softly in her belly, like the little snowflakes in a glass bubble ornament. Oh, I could get used to this!
“Oh, Alex,” Jane murmured into Alex’s expensive suit, obviously unaware of the pleasurable sensations she’d aroused. “Those people who look up to me . . . Sometimes I think—I know—I don’t deserve their admiration.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong.” Alex pulled back just enough to look into Jane’s flushed face. “I see how you affect people, how you give them hope and inspiration. Do you think that comes along every day?”
Jane shrugged defiantly.
“Trust me,” Alex said quietly, wanting to say so much more. “When you walk into a room, it’s like a comet zooming through the atmosphere.”
Jane smiled, still tightly ensconced in Alex’s arms. “You don’t have to do this, Alex,” Jane said, but her tone and her body language told Alex she wasn’t through needing comfort and assurance. Jane needed whatever strength Alex could give her at this moment.
“It’s your calling, Jane, your duty. It would be running away if you didn’t do this. I truly believe that.”
This consoling thing wasn’t so bad after all, Alex thought with bemusement. Who knew? She fought the urge to tenderly stroke Jane’s hair, to protectively run her hands down her back, to gently wipe the wetness from her cheeks. She could easily imagine the smoothness of Jane’s skin beneath her fingertips. God! What she wouldn’t give to be able to touch her that way. Alex’s heart pounded wildly. It felt wonderful having another woman in her arms—and not just any woman, but this woman! This beautiful, dynamic, charismatic, intelligent, desirable woman.
Jesus, Alex, get a grip! What was she thinking? This was a presidential candidate—a candidate she was supposed to be protecting. And the fact that she smelled so good and looked so good and was so soft and vulnerable right now . . . Oh, Alex, this is going to get you into big trouble if you don’t stop this.
Alex drew away self-consciously, admonishing herself, but Jane was too busy straightening up and dabbing at her cheeks to notice the mortification Alex was sure must be all over her face.
“I’m sorry I had this little meltdown, Alex,” Jane said calmly. “I think maybe it’s been building for awhile.” She smiled a little bashfully. “It wasn’t very ‘presidential’ of me, was it?”
Alex commanded herself to relax and forced what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She’d play it cool and try to lighten the moment for Jane’s sake. “Hey, I have broad shoulders.”
Jane gave her a bold once-over that caused Alex to blush to the bottom of her polished shoes. “I know.” For a moment she looked like she might say something more, but she just smiled benignly. “It was very kind of you. Thank you for being there for me. I feel so much better, Alex.”
“Good. Do I get a raise? That oath to secrecy’s got to be worth a lot right about now.”
“Don’t push your luck, Agent Warner.” Jane was still chuckling as they gathered themselves and strode to the bank of elevators. All evidence of her tears had quickly vanished. She looked stunning again and thoroughly composed.
“You know something, Jane?” Alex said in the empty elevator, feeling brave again. “I think you’re very brave. And as for having all your shit together, as you put it, I’m afraid no one’s a pro at that. Not you and certainly not me.”
The doors clamped shut and Jane shot Alex a grateful look.
“Promise me you’ll remind me of that every now and again.”
“Sure. I’m awfully good at reminding people that I’m not perfect.”
“Alex, you’re a clown. And to think, when I first met you, I was afraid you had no sense of humor.”
“I’m glad I proved you wrong.”
The elevator opened onto the lobby, where a frantic Steph and Carter were motioning at them. Jane rebelliously hit the button to freeze the doors for a moment.
“Alex, the Secret Service is still looking for a code name for me. I think I like your suggestion.”
“Huh? What suggestion?”
Jane’s familiar, mischievous smile spread delightfully across her face. “Comet!”
Alex laughed. “Okay, Comet, you got it.”
The beckoning from afar grew more frantic and a brief look of regret flashed across Jane’s face. “Duty calls.”
The four of them climbed into the limousine. Alex grinned across the seat at Jane. “Did you actually go out and find a tape of my gold medal hockey game from the ninety-eight Olympics?” She was secretly tickled at the idea, though a little bewildered.
“Well,” Jane hedged. “I didn’t actually go out and hunt it down. That’s what I have loyal staff for.” She winked at Steph.
Jane’s speech lasted nearly an hour. With just the right blend of idealism and detail, she unveiled her “Blueprint for America” to the receptive audience of mostly students, who cheered each point she ticked off. As the speech wound down, Jane suddenly left the lectern and her notes, pulled the cordless mic from its stand and carried it to the edge of the stage, where she plopped down and dangled her long legs over the edge.
Alex was in an agonizing state of near convulsions at the sight of Jane’s precarious perch.
“Last night, in Pittsburgh—” Jane was cut off by sporadic cheers from somewhere in the back of the auditorium. She smiled and shielded her eyes from the blinding stage lights. “I’m glad to know there are at least three people in the audience who didn’t mind that speech!”
The crowd laughed as one, Jane joining in. She let the jocularity die down naturally. “When I spoke about gay rights last night, it appears I made some people uncomfortable.” Jane’s tone was one of mock surprise, and the crowd twittered. Her smile slowly faded. “Seriously, folks. I’m sorry if what I said upset some people, but I think those things needed to be said. Actually . . .” Jane paused, a clenched fist in her lap. “You know what? I take that back. I’m not sorry at all.” She leaned toward the crowd and made eye contact with as many people as she could. “I think a little discomfort should precede changes that make our society better.” Her voice was stentorian. “It is not easy to unlock the chains of bondage, to unhitch the yoke of subjugation, to—” She wiggled for emphasis. “To make room for a new order, to slough off our comfortable skin in our ivory towers.”
Damn, she’s good, Alex marveled. And the audience knows it, too.
“Change is never easy. Self-examination is never painless.”
Alex knew that last bit was a reference to their private moment together earlier, and she moved to the edge of her seat as Jane paused.
Brimming with emotion, Jane said, “But we are all just human. None of us is perfect.” She smiled sheepishly at the crowd. She could do that so effortlessly—look bold and serious one moment, shy and humble the next. “Believe me, I know. In fact, a friend just reminded me of that earlier tonight.”
Alex nearly fell off her chair. She felt her face warming.
“As human beings, with all our imperfections, we are constantly called to change. And yes, we fight it and protest it and think the world is going to end. But you know what? Change comes, ladies and gentlemen. Whether we like it or not. Whether we embrace it or not. And I’ll tell you one thing, I’m still learning myself.” She lowered her voice to a near-whisper. “It’s a helluva lot easier to embrace change than to fight it.”
The crowd roared and surged. Hands reached up and pulled Jane down.
Alex leapt up and looked down. Jesus Christ! Jane was gone! She’d disappeared into the jaws of that live, writhing, unpredictable beast known as a mob. Alex dove in after her, yelling uselessly, pushing and pulling bodies away. And there was Jane, on her ass on the floor, where anonymous arms were in the midst of pulling her up. She was beaming like a kid.
“Hey, sailor,” Jane shouted at Alex, still grinning. “Going my way? I could use a lift outta here.”
Alex wasn’t the least bit amused. Roughly, she hauled Jane up, batted a couple of bodies out of the way and signaled for backup.
“You guys didn’t need to be so rough with those kids,” Jane admonished later in the back seat of the leased Chevy Tahoe. She was looking uncharacteristically rumpled from all the jostling and more than a little displeased.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree. I know those kids meant well, but you could still get hurt.”
The tension in her body, the clenched expression told Alex that Jane was still seething. Her words only punctuated it. “If I was concerned, I would have yelled for you. Did I look concerned?”
“No, but I can’t wait for you to decide if you’re in trouble or not. It’s my job to anticipate trouble before it happens.” Alex refused to feed Jane’s anger by getting angry herself. She spoke reasonably, because she knew she was right. Looking at everyone as a potential threat to Jane was an unpleasant but necessary part of her job.
“Well, you can’t run over people just because you think I might get hurt, Alex. I won’t have it. I won’t have a goon squad around me.”
Alex would have laughed were Jane not so angry. She’d never thought of herself as belonging to a goon squad. It just wasn’t true, but it was best to let Jane blow off a little steam rather than keep arguing with her.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Jane. I certainly don’t want my tactics causing you any embarrassment or discomfort.”
Alex watched Jane’s anger slowly deflate. Contriteness did it every time.
* * *
The celebration party went on for hours the next night in the hotel ballroom, a prolonged and raucous affair with Jane spending an interminable amount of time personally thanking each of the hundreds of supporters there.
The day’s Pennsylvania primary win was huge for Jane, and Alex was pleased for her. The aides had been nervous wrecks hours earlier as they waited for results. They still looked bedraggled, as though they’d run a marathon, but they were a hell of a lot happier. It was like a tremendous weight had been lifted from the campaign.
“How’re you feeling?” Alex asked Carter, her attention never leaving Jane in the crowd.
“Never mind me. Isn’t it great? Life hasn’t been this good since New Hampshire.”
Jane had finished a close second to Dennis Collins in most of the primaries, but all-out wins like this one were rare—too rare.
“So you think she’s really got something going now?” Alex asked, hoping it was true. Maybe she would soon be able to topple Collins from his lead.
Carter looked a little skeptical in spite of his enthusiasm. “These primaries she’s won are pretty small potatoes in terms of the delegates.”
“Huh? You lost me there, Carter.” Alex figured a win was a win, no matter which primary it was.
“See, each primary is worth so many delegates at the national convention. So each vote she’s picking up in the primaries now means those delegates will be voting for her in July. The problem is, Collins has more delegates right now. He’s been winning the bigger primaries, like Florida, which is worth over a hundred delegates. Pennsylvania’s worth a good couple of dozen less. It’s all about the numbers, baby.”
“Jeez. I didn’t know you had to be a math whiz to figure all this out.”
Carter was watching Jane too as she moved through the crowd. “The numbers game can wait. What’s important right now is that Jane knows she can win primaries. Especially with those Super Tuesdays coming up.”
Alex inwardly groaned. She knew a Super Tuesday was when a whole pile of states held their primaries at once, and there would be two of them in the upcoming weeks. On those days, it wasn’t uncommon for candidates to cram in as many campaign appearances as they could, even if it meant visiting three or four states in a day.
But if Jane was up to the demand, so was she. Alex was continually amazed by Jane’s stamina. Even now, as she worked the room after such a long day, she chatted with each person, asked their name, asked them something about themselves. There were special words and hugs or handshakes for each. Jane’s hands would be scratched and swollen because everyone, it seemed, wanted to touch her. Her smile rarely wavered and somehow, miraculously, she still managed to look fresh and interested.
Finally, Jane signaled that she was going upstairs to the suite of rooms her team had rented for the more private celebration. Alex hoped it wouldn’t go on all night.
She and Carter shared a look of helpless exhaustion, but quickly fell into place behind Jane.
Upstairs in the large suite, champagne was flowing, music was playing, and Jane had begun disappearing into a bedroom in turn with each of her closest staffers for a few minutes at a time. Alex dutifully stood around, making small talk, wondering what Jane wanted her for. She was growing more bored by the minute, and yet she was curious. The next time Jane emerged, she crooked her finger at Alex and motioned her in.
