Domestic Affairs

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Domestic Affairs Page 24

by Bridget Siegel


  Forty-five minutes later, they were back downstairs for more meetings like it was the most normal thing in the world. I will say this, Olivia argued to herself, the increase in trips to New York is great for fundraising. He is doing twice as many meetings these days.

  She liked her latest attempt at rationalization, or better yet, finding an upside to what she was doing. “What she was doing” was the term she used as she couldn’t bring herself to say the word “affair,” even to herself. The fortunate thing about keeping something she shouldn’t have been doing a secret was that she could use reasoning that wouldn’t pass muster even with herself if she had been forced to speak it aloud. Inner monologues make so much more sense when they are kept to your inner self. Maybe that’s what Dad meant by “The heart has reason the mind knows nothing of.”

  When the governor showed up at her door at ten thirty that night, after a day of important fundraising meetings and escapes upstairs, she again tried to talk herself into doing the right thing, but was overcome with the need to touch him and feel his touch. There was a desperation to be close to him, one she had never experienced before. It’s my heart, totally beyond my control, she would continue to tell herself for the next month, even though she knew it was a complete lie.

  “Liv, I need him back in Georgia!” Jacob roared into the phone. He didn’t mean to take his frustration out on Olivia. It was the governor he wanted to scream at, but since it wasn’t appropriate to berate the boss, Liv was in the line of fire.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Apparently we’re sending him to do another freakin’ Sunday-morning talk show, which is a whole other issue, and now he says you said there was some good event to go to Saturday night. Ahhhhh.” He let out a controlled yell that was actually more of a sigh than anything nearing a scream. “There are so many things wrong with this.”

  Olivia sputtered an excuse on the line, sounding unsure of what he was talking about, which made him even more angry.

  “Oh, um, Saturday. I . . . Sorry, Jacob, I just—”

  “I can’t have you guys all asking him to do things. Of course he wants to go to parties in New York and quench his newfound thirst for million-dollar wines. We all want to do that. But we have a campaign to run. And I am the only one watching out for him.”

  Jacob heard Olivia trying to cut in but wouldn’t let her. He was on a roll and needed to vent. He had spent the entire day, actually what seemed like an entire two weeks, defending schedule changes that he himself didn’t even agree with. Three times now the governor had told Jacob they needed more fundraising dates on the calendar. Which was bullshit. Jacob had just figured out the perfect balance of what needed to be scheduled and when. He had dutifully turned things upside down to make the changes the governor wanted and then defended them to the rest of the staff, who had meetings and events canceled for “more money time.”

  Plus, Aubrey, who seemed to be throwing more tantrums than ever, canceled yet another campaign stop to stay in Atlanta. She had called Jacob at six thirty a.m., twenty minutes before she was supposed to be on a plane, to tell him she had “not been briefed properly for this trip,” so she “simply could not go.” And coincidentally the former secretary of state was scheduled to be in Atlanta. Shocker. On top of all the other negatives, getting laid isn’t even helping her mood.

  “Peter has him on so many press shows we might as well be paid bookers. We’re running for president, not vying for an Emmy!” He continued on for a good four or five minutes, at which point he started to feel worse about his own lack of verbal control than he did about the lack of control he had on the campaign. He took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  Olivia, in the calm monotone voice of either a therapist or someone who was paying no attention, broke her uncharacteristic silence. “It’s okay.”

  He repeated his apology, trying to regain some poise. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated.”

  “I know. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to him directly.”

  “I just need to regain some control,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  “You haven’t lost that.”

  “Why are you talking so weirdly?”

  “I’m not.”

  Jacob didn’t buy it for a second. He looked down at the clock on his computer screen and realized it was twenty past eleven at night and she had been at meetings with the governor all day.

  “Shit, Liv, did I wake you up?”

  “No! It’s only like eleven o’clock. Sorry, I’m just tired today.”

  “Oh, good. I mean, not good you’re tired, good I didn’t wake you up.” Jacob still wasn’t convinced. “Wait! Is someone there with you?!”

  “Please, you know the only relationship I’m in is the dysfunctional one I have with this campaign.” She said it with a laugh.

  “Phew. We’ll not have you sleeping around on us.”

  “Please, I am well aware of the ‘no sleeping at all’ rule on this campaign.”

  Jacob laughed. “Yeah, clearly a rule I should break for myself today.”

  “Jacob, you are doing an amazing job,” Olivia said. “Everyone knows how lucky we are to have you at the helm.”

  “Thanks, Liv. Sorry for my tirade.” He really did start to feel better. “Oh, but really, on Saturday, I don’t want him going to an event unless you really need him. We can’t have him become a New York socialite. Those things don’t go over well in places like Iowa.”

  “No problem at all. I don’t really need him there.” She paused with a weird laugh.

  “Okay, cool. He’s got to be in New York for the morning show Sunday, so he gets in Saturday night. I’m going to try to send him as late as possible. If he gets in early enough, maybe you guys could do call time or something? I just don’t want him at another party. You know, AHAP—as hidden as possible.” Jacob snickered at himself. “Ironic since the trip is for him to do more press!”

  “No problem. I can think of something. Sorry again about the party thing. It really was just an idea that spurted out of my mouth. I didn’t think through it at all.”

  “Unfortunately for me, these days your word seems to be golden!”

  “Very funny!”

  “Actually, Liv, you really are doing a great job. He’s listening to you because you’re getting things done. You just need to keep in mind that when he starts listening to you on that level you have to be much more careful about what you’re saying.”

  “Okay.”

  Jacob tried to explain his point further. “I mean, I know it sounds crazy but he takes in so much every day, we just have to filter things before they get to him so we can keep the campaign more focused than any one human could be. The whole needs to be greater than the parts here, even the big part!”

  “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. Will work on it.”

  “Thanks, Liv. And thanks for letting me vent.”

  “No prob, Jacob. Hang in there. Tomorrow will be better.”

  “You don’t need me here, huh?” The governor ran his hand down Olivia’s stomach as she hung up the phone with Jacob, and she flinched when it tickled.

  “Not at all.” She turned on her side, facing him, and leaned in to kiss his ear. “It’s really more of a want thing.”

  The governor’s arm wrapped around her side and he inched her closer. “So, what was that all about? He complaining?”

  Olivia felt protective of Jacob. Relatively. She revised her own thoughts since she was lying in a bed with Landon, a move that was far from protective of anyone, most of all Jacob. “That, my friend, was about us almost getting caught! You made me laugh twice.”

  “Oh please, you laugh all the time.”

  “Not while you’re on the phone! Campaign Lesson number twenty-five: No talking in the background!” She punched him lightly in the shoulder and winced. She hated recognizing that it had become reflexive for her to stop talking every time his phone rang.

  “I thought ‘No kissing in the background’ was twenty-fiv
e.”

  “Very funny. Seriously, we have to be more careful. And you. You have to stop favoring fundraising.”

  “Is that so?” He started to pull his hand away from her back. She grabbed it back. She loved the feel of his arm around her, his hand grabbing her side.

  “Well, at least in such an obvious fashion.”

  While the time Landon put into fundraising was a huge help in reaching her financial goals and she certainly wasn’t going to argue about the time they were spending together, the amount of it all was starting to take a toll. She had been in L.A. for three days, and between the time change, work, and late-night calls with Landon, she was just plain tired and thankful to be at the last fundraiser of the trip. As if three straight days of events weren’t enough, Aubrey had brought the kids and two nannies out for the trip, which doubled everyone’s logistical work and stress.

  Olivia was charged with contacting donors to get them special tours at Disneyland, Universal Studios, and anywhere else she could think of. She hated making the calls on so many levels. She didn’t have the time for superfluous planning, especially on calls that consisted of her hearing how honored every single person in L.A. would be to be in the presence of Aubrey, Margaret, and Dixon Taylor. Aubrey, Margaret, and Dixon Taylor. Saying their names twenty times a day did not go over well with her conscience, which preferred to stay in a state of denial. However, having them scheduled around the city for most of the trip meant Olivia could steer clear of seeing them in person. Until tonight.

  The last event of the trip was a fundraiser at the home of Andrew and Liz Herly, championship sailors who had moved to L.A. after their reality TV show became a hit. The house looked like a New England boathouse transported to Beverly Hills. Its high ceilings were vaulted, with exposed wood beams, and most of the walls were covered in navy and white striped wallpaper.

  Aubrey and the kids and Landon stood on a makeshift stage in front of a full-wall mural of Liz and Andrew winning the World Cup. Olivia had learned from writing the briefing that the renowned artist Lisa Baglivi had been commissioned to paint it last summer after her solo show at LACMA. As a backdrop to the speaking program, it made the Taylor family look like they were standing in the middle of a beach. As Landon began talking, Olivia’s heart sank with the knowledge that she was hurting, possibly ruining, this perfect family.

  “Let me tell you”—he looked out at the crowd of about a hundred people—“nothing could make me happier than being here with my beautiful family. Let’s have a round of applause for the real beauty and brains of the Taylor operation!” He beamed at his wife and kids, who adoringly looked back at their man, as he went on to recount the tale of their first family trip to California. Olivia had heard the story more than a million times and yet it still sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. She hated thinking about them as a family at all. “You can’t combine worlds,” she remembered Jacob telling her. “Keep them separate or they won’t make sense.” More like keep them separate or you’ll have a nervous breakdown, she thought. It was so much simpler to see Aubrey as the mean woman who canceled fundraisers hours before they were about to start. The bitch who looked down on Landon, who didn’t appreciate what she had. And Olivia preferred to not see the kids at all. Hearing family stories, no matter how many times Landon told her they were old news, wracked her with guilt. Olivia walked off to the side of the living room and headed to the back bar, which had been brought in and placed in front of a wall of trophies. She needed to literally move farther away from his words and also was in desperate need of hydration. Maybe they have some appetizers left back there, she thought, knowing full well that she had requested they not serve anything while the governor was speaking.

  She quietly whispered to the bartender, “Sorry to have been bothering you all night, but could I grab a Diet Coke, no ice?”

  “No ice?” he asked incredulously, making her even more aware of the bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck.

  “No ice, please.” Like the service of food, ice would make noise, a totally unacceptable distraction from his speaking.

  She grasped the warm soda and fell back into the wall. After two sips she looked up to the ceiling and questioned the world she had landed in. She felt barely strong enough to stand up, even with the wall behind her. As her head tilted downward she noticed the rapt quiet of the room. The governor’s voice was rising,

  “Our country used to be about becoming bigger and better. Politicians added amendments to our Constitution to expand rights and include more people. Now it has become the opposite. Now everyone spends all their time stopping things—gays can’t marry, immigrants can’t immigrate, women can’t choose when to start a family. I’m not arguing the points, though I could. I could go on for hours about how wrong they are, how racist and closed-minded they are, but then I’d just be adding time and energy and another voice into a negative corner of the world. It’s time to turn the conversation around. It’s time to start talking about—and more importantly working for—good things, positive things. It’s time for innovation. It’s time for scientific advancements. It’s time we find sustainable energy sources. It’s time we make our education system one we can be proud of.”

  Olivia stood as hypnotized by his words as the rest of the room was. A dropped pin would have been crashingly loud.

  “Y’all know where I stand on the issues, and those who don’t can look it up on the Internet. I’m not going to spend this campaign talking about what’s wrong and how we’re going to fight it. I’m going to talk about what’s right, what could be, and how we’re going to get there. I want a better America and it is not just possible, it is within our reach. Once upon a time in our history, a man stood up and said we could go to the moon, and a nation delivered. Now I’m saying I want to bring us back to earth. Feet firmly on the ground, we will make this country the beacon of light and of advancement that it should be. Together we will reach the greatness we were meant for.”

  Olivia dropped her drink on the nearest cocktail table. No longer aware of the heat or her exhaustion, she joined in the standing ovation. She looked around at the exhilaration in all the faces. Suddenly the momentous nature of the campaign hit her with a wave of pride. I better commit this moment to memory, she thought. One day people will want to know what it sounded like in person.

  “Wowzers.” Mariqua, one of the many rich female donors who swooned every time the governor was around, leaned in close enough for Olivia to get high off her Chanel No. 5 perfume. “That was amaaazing. Ahhbsoluutely amaaazing. I mean, can you stand it? I haaave to talk to him after. I simply muust. Here are more contributions!” She handed Olivia two folded-up checks. “Did you ask him yet if he’ll come meet us at Mr. Chow?”

  Olivia smiled. “I’m so sorry, Mariqua, he’s just not going to be able to go. Aubrey and the kids are heading back to Georgia, and he needs to see them off at the airport.” Like I have told you forty times before, she thought with new understanding of why Landon always said he was downright frightened by Mariqua.

  Actually, Aubrey, with the kids and nannies, would be chauffeured off to their private plane without Landon, but this excuse sounded decidedly better than, “The governor needs to get back to his hotel to cheat on his perfect family with his imperfect fundraiser.”

  “So sorry,” Olivia said, using one of her favorite get-out-of-a-conversation-quick tricks and pointing to Taylor, “I’ve got to go grab the governor.”

  “Ahhhh”—Mariqua breathed out embarrassingly loudly—“wouldn’t I love to be the one to grab him. Haaaahaaaahaaaahaaa,” she cackled absurdly.

  Olivia smiled politely and walked away. Even though the indecency of her actions was magnified in this room, she couldn’t help the giddy, mesmerized feeling she had. I do get to grab him, s he thought indulgently as she glided through the crowd, which didn’t seem half as pushy or painful as it did before. She went to the front door to collect more checks as people filed out of the house.

  Jacob
ran by her. “This was so much easier when we had Secret Service,” he whispered as he went outside for the third time to check on the family’s cars.

  Olivia nodded. She hadn’t been around for the last presidential race, when there was security everywhere, so even the one or two guards who accompanied them these days seemed like a lot to her. She wondered how she would be able to be alone with Landon once the Service tracked his every move.

  “All set!” Jacob spoke loudly as he reentered the home, motioning to the governor. Landon was thanking the hosts as Aubrey pulled the kids toward the door.

  “Good-bye, Olivia.” She nodded her approval. “Kids, what do y’all say to Olivia? She arranged the tours for us at Disney and Universal and at the museum.”

  “Thank you!” The kids spoke over each other. “It was so much fun!”

  “It was my pleasure. Glad you enjoyed it. Have a safe trip.” Olivia smiled, now positive that she would go straight to hell.

  “Shit.” Jacob looked up from his BlackBerry for maybe the third time when they got into the lobby of the West Cove Hotel, a new modern establishment that seemed way too hip for the campaign but was probably the cheapest they could find. There were people everywhere. And worse, paparazzi. He looked past the registration desk to the bar, where people were raucously gathered at the entrance. He turned behind him to see the governor and Olivia following but still at the curb. The crowded bar would not do. Aside from the fact that it was noisy and dimly lit, useless conditions for looking over lists, he would be bothered every five minutes by people trying to get a picture or even a hello. In California, where movie stars were commonplace, other types of celebrities, like politicians, were bizarrely more sought after.

 

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