Seduced By The Candidate (The Candidate, #1)

by Beth Klein

  “I’ve never forgotten what you did for me,” hissed Goulding icily. “It has haunted me from that day to this and as much as I appreciate your support, I rue the day I ever met you.”

  Frazer grinned evilly and Goulding felt that he was in the presence of an enemy far more threatening than anything that he had ever faced in Afghanistan.

  “Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Billy Boy,” said Frazer. “Unfortunately it is something that few of us are blessed with and something that none of us can benefit from. You made your bed and you can lie in it.”

  “Let’s get something completely clear here Frazer,” said Goulding, his anger growing with each passing minute. “Our business was completed a long time ago. You got the support you needed for your development project and I got the funding I needed to further my campaign. Your...donation was well received and fully appreciated, but it is a matter of public record. I did nothing wrong and you know that.”

  Ackermann reached into his jacket pocket and silently handed Frazer a manila envelope.

  “We do know that Bill, but we’re businessmen and you of all people should know that in business, a successful entrepreneur never throws away any advantage that he’s been dealt. This is a copy of a bank statement that shows five hundred thousand dollars leaving our business account and being deposited into your own.”

  Frazer sifted through the pages in his hand and extracted another, moving it to the top of the pile.

  “This on the other hand is a copy of your own business account showing that the same amount of money arrived in your account a day later.”

  “And?” said Goulding defensively. “I’ve never denied accepting contributions from supporting local businesses. I told you that.”

  “You did,” said Frazer. “What you didn’t do was pay any particular attention to how your accountant filed that...‘donation.’”

  “Maggie?” said Goulding. “Maggie was a consummate professional and always did everything by the book.”

  “That she did Bill,” said Frazer. “She kept meticulous notes, maintained highly detailed records and filed all of the right paperwork. Unfortunately, in this instance she simply ‘forgot’ to declare to the relevant parties that this was party donation and not merely a personal pay-off.”

  Goulding blanched, all of his previous bravado forgotten.

  “She wouldn’t...she couldn’t. Why would she do that?”

  “Ah...now you begin to see what we’re getting at Bill. As well as being a little remiss in checking the manner in which your accountant conducted her business. You didn’t bother to check her previous employment history did you?”

  “No...Madeline did all of that.”

  “Yes, she did. If you had just once bothered to look, you’d have seen that Maggie McDonald had previously spent seven happy years working for Quest Realtors and that despite the slanderous accusations of nepotism, the niece of our very own Mr. Ackermann performed in an outstanding fashion. It really didn’t take a great deal of persuasion from good old Uncle Larry to persuade her to mislay the relevant documents.”

  All three men laughed heartily at this revelation, but Goulding felt cold and nauseous.

  “What’s the last piece of paper?” he asked shakily, although he didn’t really want to know.

  “Nothing really,” said Frazer wiping his eyes. “It’s just the approval document you signed for us to flatten one hundred and fifty-three acres of ancient woodland in order to build our luxury condominiums complex. It really was jolly decent of you to give us the go ahead after so many of your colleagues had refused point blank to even give us the time of day. If you look at the bottom next to the signature you can see the date is exactly the same as that of our bank transfer to you. Quite a co-incidence really, isn’t it?”

  “That’s just it though isn’t it, Frazer,” spat Goulding bitterly. “It’s a co-incidence and the rest of it can be put down to professional incompetency on the part of my former accountant.”

  “Yes, it could,” agreed Frazer. “But do you really think that with all we know about spin, persuasion and greasing a few palms we couldn’t make this stick? With you so close to Election Day, something this unpalatable would be pretty hard to swallow by the good Evangelists you profess to represent. I’m pretty sure that it isn’t the Goulding change revolution that they were expecting...what do you think?”

  Goulding was a very poor loser and now he tasted the bitter tang of a game, played and lost at the back of his throat.

  “What do you want Frazer?” he asked.

  “Just what we’ve always wanted Bill, we want to align ourselves with the William Goulding band wagon. We want to see you win the Presidency almost as much as you do and when you ride into the White House we want to be at your side. You see, we are looking to expand our operations nationally and would have thought that there was no one better to smooth our way past those awkward red-tape roadblocks than good old President Goulding.”

  With the full enormity of the situation outlined and in the open, Goulding blanched. His past had not only caught up with him, but it had dragged him from the saddle and began to jump up and down on his chest. These men wanted to hold him as a pawn in their business strategizing and there was no time limit, or limitation on the number of favors that they would ask of him. He was trapped, a puppet dancing to their strings and he had no idea how he could possibly cut the strings and be free.

  “No need to make up your mind just yet Bill,” said Frazer with a thin smile. “We’ll leave these with you, as well as an electronic copy on a memory stick so you can see that they are the real deal and not merely forgeries. Feel free to have them checked out. Although, I would have thought that you might want to keep them to yourself! We expect a decision no later than midnight on Election Day. We’ll either walk forward as business partners, or when the newspapers should be proclaiming your victory, they will instead be telling their readers about your indictment and arrest. Your call Bill...share the dream, or see it become your worst nightmare.”

  Without another word, the three men rose and walked towards the door, leaving Goulding clutching the envelope and assorted papers, staring in disbelief at their retreating backs. How could he have gone from such extreme elation to such deep depression in barely fifteen minutes?

  “Are you okay Bill?” said a voice that startled him out of his reverie. Turning towards the voice, Goulding looked directly into the beautiful eyes of Charlotte Turner and just for a second he felt safe, as if nothing else mattered.

  “What? Oh, yes, it’s fine.”

  “Really? Who were those men?”

  “No one,” said Goulding suddenly angry. “It’s not something that concerns you Charlotte.”

  Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he immediately regretted his outburst. Before he had a chance to remedy the situation, Jake appeared; half marching, half dragging a disheveled and protesting man in his wake.

  “Boss, I found this piece of shit skulking around the head after everyone had left the building. I recognized him the minute that I saw him and thought that you might want to have a quiet...word with him.”

  “Jake, for fucks sake your timing is shit...okay, who the fuck is he?”

  Jake cast a cautious eye in Charlotte’s direction. As Goulding silently bade him to elaborate he appeared to make up his mind.

  “It’s the reporter I told you about before Bill. The piece of shit with the story to write that won’t take no for an answer and who seems hell-bent on nailing you one way or the other.”

  Goulding turned to face the crumpled reporter sat sullenly opposite him and regarded him coldly. He had quickly dismissed Charlotte, his previous rudeness forgotten in the face of this new turn of events and Jake had retreated to a position by the door so that Goulding could have some privacy. Part of him wanted nothing more than to let Jake loose on this man and see how eager he was to dig up some dirt on him after a five minute ‘conversation’ with the big fella, but deep down he knew that this was something
that he would have to handle himself.

  “Who are you and why are you here?” said Goulding, steeling himself for any further revelations.

  At first the man said nothing, but when he caught Goulding looking in the direction of Jake, his resolve cracked.

  “Look, I’m happy to talk to you. Just keep that big brute away from me.”

  “Jake’s a pussy cat,” said Goulding with a knowing smile. “You think he’s hard work, but you’ve seen nothing yet my friend.”

  “Okay, okay!” squeaked the reporter. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it much.”

  “Try me. Today couldn’t get much worse if you tried.”

  “Really?” said the reporter, his interest peaked. “Care to tell me about it?”

  “You wish,” said Goulding, unable to admire the man’s tenacity in the face of such an obvious threat. “How about I ask the questions and you answer them, and you might just get out of here without needing to have a quiet word with my head of security. Deal?”

  “Okay...what do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with your name shall we?”

  “Brian Kennedy.”

  “Good. Next, how about you tell me why you’re here and why you’re snooping around?”

  “Not much to tell really,” said Brian. “I’ve heard pretty reliable rumors that good old God fearing Senator Goulding has a past that he’d like to remain hidden and buried. You seem like a pretty decent guy, but I doubt that there’s a politician alive that hasn’t smoothed his way up the ladder without greasing a few palms along the way...‘transparent campaign’ or not.”

  Goulding studied the man for a few seconds, desperately trying to read him in an attempt to determine whether he knew more than he was letting on, or whether or not he was merely testing the waters.

  “Okay. What do you know?”

  “Like I said, not a lot. Your record is pretty damn clean and almost as impressive as your military career.”

  “So why keep looking?” said Goulding hopefully.

  “Gut instinct, pure and simple. Something doesn’t smell right here and I want to know what that something is.”

  “So you’re a vigilante for truth and justice, using your pen to expose the bad and right the wrongs?”

  “Not exactly Senator Goulding, I’m more of a mercenary if I’m honest. I’m freelance you see and I only get paid if something I write is worth printing. I’ve got a wife and three kids to feed and the bills ain’t paying themselves you know.”

  “So it’s about the money?” said Goulding, again feeling hopeful.

  Brian paused for a minute and seemed to be wrestling with his conscience. Finally he seemed to reach a decision.

  “Look, Senator. I like you, I really do. None of this is personal. Hell, in all likelihood, I’ll end up voting for you as a lot of what you say makes sense. If there’s nothing to report, I’ll hold my hands up and we can both walk away happy, but I’ve got to do my job and see if there IS something there. It is very much about the money, like I said I’ve got a family and shit load of bills, but I also have morals and I’m not about to do something that will screw us both over in the future. Before you even consider it, let alone suggest it, I won’t take a bribe and allow you to corrupt yourself.”

  “Fuck me,” laughed Goulding. “A reporter with morals and a conscience...this really is a day of firsts. Those attributes are hard enough to find in a politician, let alone a reporter!”

  “Maybe we’re the first of a new breed, Senator,” said Brian, returning the smile.

  “Okay, Brian. I respect your honesty and I have no intention of detaining you any longer than necessary. You’re free to go and you have my blessing to do your worst. I’ll even have a word with Jake and make sure that in future he leaves you alone instead of giving in to his natural instinct to string you up by your toes!”

  “Really?” said Brian casting Jake a nervous glance.

  “Really,” replied Goulding.

  “I hope I’m wrong, Senator.”

  “Me too Brian...and call me Bill.”

  * * *

  As the little reporter exited the building, Goulding ran through the events of the evening. He had made a historic speech and from a political point of view, the campaign visit had been a glorious success...1-0. On the other hand, he had been confronted by the three managers at Quest Realtors and at the worst possible time in his political career...1-1. Then there was the little reporter that he couldn’t help but like, threatening to expose his less than glorious past and bring his story to the world’s attention even if Quest didn’t...1-2. And there you had it. He had lost the ball game, the series and the whole shebang in the space of just a few hours. Best of all he had no idea how he could possible come up with a way out of this and in doing so take it to over-time where it was anyone’s game.

  Lost in his reverie, Goulding didn’t hear Jake as he walked up behind him.

  “The maggot has left the building boss,” he said in a gruff voice and made Goulding jump.

  “God damn it Jake,” exclaimed Goulding, his heart racing. “No one your size should be that fucking quiet!”

  “It’s a gift boss.”

  The brief respite from his thoughts was painfully fleeting and after only a matter of seconds, the glum, resigned look once again replaced it.

  “You okay boss?” asked Jake, genuinely concerned.

  “No mate. Not really, but what can you do eh?”

  “You could start by telling me about it, Bill. You’ve done a lot for me in the past and if there’s anything I can do to help you, all you have to do is ask. Even if all I can do is listen, it might take some of the weight off.”

  So, that’s what he did. Goulding talked and talked and talked, and he explained everything that he had experienced and worried about to the huge, hulking man that sat opposite him in a state of quiet, reflective silence. When Goulding had finally finished, Jake sat starring at the ground and Goulding wondered if he was ever going to speak.

  “Shit, Bill,” Jake finally said. “You really know how to drop yourself in it. Don’t you?”

  Goulding nodded but said nothing.

  “It might not be that bad. I’ve still got a few contacts in the army that owe me a favor or two. How about I pay them a visit and we’ll see what we can dig up about those pricks at Quest? The maggot can’t really write about anything if there is no longer anything to write about. So he’s not exactly a pressing concern. Let me sort out the security detail on Monday which would give me the rest of the week to see what I can turn up.”

  Choking back the emotion and relief, Goulding could hardly speak. When he eventually did manage a response, his voice was cracked and faltering.

  “Really Jake,” he croaked. “You reckon you could do that?”

  “Sure I can boss, but I have three conditions that are none negotiable.”

  “Er...okay.”

  “One...you never, EVER pull a stunt like you did tonight. Try crowd surfing again and I’ll fucking shoot you myself. Two...you get Charlotte to schedule in a visit to the local army veterans center in whatever state your visiting next. Finally, and most importantly of all...next week is on your dime and any costs or expenses get paid out in full BEFORE I go.”

  “But Jake...how will I be able to pay your expenses without actually knowing what they are...It’d be like writing you a blank check.”

  “Exactly,” said the big man with a sly smile. “I’m sure that whatever you give me will cover my expenses exactly, to the very last cent.”

  With that, he rose and headed for the door leaving Goulding both incredibly relieved and with a distinct sense that he had just been fleeced.

  “I’ll do a final check and make sure the place is empty and I’ll tell Charlotte to go home,” called Jake over his shoulder.

  “Charlotte!” said Goulding with surprise. “She’s still here?”

  “Yep,” said Jake, his voice almost too distant to make out. “She wouldn’t
leave until she knew you were okay.”

  Goulding felt both humbled and elated at the same time.

  “Tell her to come here, I need to make sure she amends the schedule accordingly before she goes. Don’t worry about locking up, just secure the side doors and we’ll lock the main entrance when we leave.”

  Jake was initially reluctant, but eventually he agreed. Both men knew that he would wait in the shadows until Goulding had left and he was one hundred percent sure that everything was okay.

  “No problem,” said Jake casually. “You’re the boss.”

  No sooner had Jake left, than Charlotte walked back into the hall, her appearance illuminating the cold, empty space like a beacon of warmth and hope.

  “You wanted me Bill?” she said and Goulding detected more than a little huffiness in her voice.

  “Yes. Firstly, I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. All through today you’ve been a wonderful relief in the face of a mountain of endless shit and regardless of how stressed, or tired I was, you deserved better.”

  “O-kay,” she said, confused, but thrilled at his kind words.

  “Secondly, I need you to amend my schedule to include a visit to the local army veteran’s center. It’s a personal favor for a very good friend and it’s non-negotiable. Regardless of how hectic things look on paper.”

  “Might be tough Bill...but I think we can do that. Anything else?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I want you to have a drink with me.”

  At first, the employer - sub-ordinate status of their lives prevailed as they sat quietly, drinking in an uncomfortably, mechanized fashion. But as the alcohol filtered into their bodies, they relaxed and began to enjoy each other’s company. She found Goulding to be a charming, attentive partner and he found her to be intelligent, witty and enthused with a wicked sense of humor. Before long, her tiredness infused with the alcohol to make her feel reckless and light-headed. For him, the alcohol they drank merely compounded that which he had already consumed and he too began to feel pleasantly drunk and risqué.