Election Day (By Design Book 10)

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Election Day (By Design Book 10) Page 23

by J. A. Armstrong


  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe a little,” Jameson confessed.

  “You were amazing today, Jameson.”

  “I just told the truth.”

  Candace smiled. “Yes, I know.”

  “Did you really cancel your meeting?”

  “I did. I was hoping you might be agreeable to heading back home early.”

  Jameson was confused. Candace had made a speech the previous night at a benefit supporting The Human Rights Coalition. It had timed perfectly to Jameson’s appearance on Coffee with Katie. Candace had agreed to a meeting with the mayor in the afternoon and she had planned to take her calls from the hotel that evening. They would drive back to Albany the next morning.

  “How early?” Jameson asked.

  “Nowish.”

  “Now?”

  “If we leave by noon, we’ll be in Schoharie before dinner.”

  “Worried about Coop? Marianne said he seems to be back to himself.”

  “I’m not worried,” Candace promised. “Truthfully?”

  “Please.”

  “I could use a night at home, Jameson—not in Albany, not in a hotel room—at home.”

  Jameson placed a kiss on Candace’s forehead. “I’ll get our things packed.”

  “I already did.”

  “Did you tell Gil?”

  “Done,” Candace said. “I told him when Shell and I went to have coffee.”

  Jameson chuckled. “You aren’t going to make it easy for him, are you?”

  Candace shrugged.

  “I’m glad you’re taking a breath.”

  “Me too,” Candace confessed.

  “Although, I’ll confess, I thought for a minute you had something else in mind.”

  “Did you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Candace let her hand travel over Jameson’s breasts. “Take me home, Jameson.”

  Jameson felt a familiar lump form in her throat. “I’ll get our bags.” She cleared her throat and walked away.

  Candace grinned. Jameson’s face had flushed with desire in an instant. Works every time.

  ***

  “We’re still trailing,” Wolfe said.

  Ritchie shrugged. “It’s to be expected.”

  “What are we doing about it?”

  “There’s a plan in place.”

  “There had better be,” Wolfe warned.

  “Stick to the script, Brad.”

  “Why? Has that worked yet?” Wolfe grinned. He walked out onto the stage effectively dismissing his closest adviser.

  ***

  “Mom!” Marianne called into the kitchen.

  Candace followed the sound into the living room. “What is it?”

  “You and Jameson have got to watch this.”

  Jameson sauntered into the room. “Watch what?”

  Marianne pointed to the television.”

  “Oh, boy,” Jameson groaned when she saw Bradley Wolfe’s face.

  “There’s a clear choice here, folks. Lesbians on parade or a man who hasn’t missed a Sunday in church in his life.”

  Cheers blared through the auditorium.

  “Guess we know what his new line is going to be,” Jameson said.

  Candace’s expression remained impassive as she listened.

  “Now, I don’t know much about lesbians. I will say this much; Jed Tyler can’t be much of a man. I don’t buy an ounce of his story.”

  An audible gasp of surprise could be heard in the crowd.

  Wolfe held up his hand. “No, no. Let’s win on the facts. I don’t have a problem with what Mrs. and Mrs. Reid want to do. I just don’t think they should be the poster girls for what our daughters should aspire to.”

  Jameson shook her head. “Still think my interview went well?”

  Candace silently took hold of Jameson’s hand and stroked the back of it with her thumb as she watched Wolfe continued to speak.

  “Here’s something the governor and I do agree on.”

  “This ought to be rich,” Marianne commented.

  “We agree that America needs to get back to basics. We don’t agree on what those basics are. Put people first? Which people, Governor? The people who came here illegally and take away jobs? How about the criminals? We should show them more empathy? The terrorists? Are they deserving of a fair chance? Which people? I say it’s the mothers and fathers who get up every day and try to support their families. The ones who go to church. Why can’t we just say that? Since when do we call church-going folk bigots? Who is the bigot here? Me? I don’t think so. I’ve helped all kinds of people. I’ve spent my life building companies.”

  Marianne rolled her eyes. “More like buying them and then selling them.”

  “Companies that pay people. What has the governor spent her life doing? She’s spent it living off your dollars. Take a look at your tax dollars at work. Ask yourself who you trust with those dollars? Someone who works for a living or someone who makes her living on your backs?”

  Candace reached over for the remote and clicked off the television.

  “Mom?”

  “I was thinking that we should cook out on the grill tonight. Let the kids play in the pool for a while now that Cooper’s ear is better,” Candace said.

  “Mom?”

  Candace smiled. “It’s his campaign. He gets to run it any way he chooses.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jameson wondered.

  “Right now, I am going to go pour us some wine while you get the kids into their bathing suits.”

  “Candace, if you need to…”

  “What I need is to sit by the pool with Marianne while you swim with the kids. Then? Then I want to have burgers and dogs on the grill and watch some of that Scooby Doo nonsense you’ve managed to get our son addicted to.”

  Marianne chuckled. “I’ll get the kids ready,” she offered and headed for the stairs.

  “I know you want to step away,” Jameson said.

  “It will still be there tomorrow.”

  As if on cue, Candace’s phone buzzed. She took a deep breath and answered it. “Hello, Glenn. Yes, I saw it. What do you mean, how do I want you to respond? Don’t.” Candace sighed. “That’s right. Don’t respond at all. Worried? About what? About Bradley Wolfe telling the world Jameson and I sleep together? I think that’s been covered ad nauseam. Uh-huh. You can do that. No, I’m not coming to Albany now. No, I’m not getting on a call. Leave Dana alone. Because, Glenn, I said so.”

  Jameson chuckled.

  “Mm-hum. I will be there at noon tomorrow. No, not earlier—at noon. Goodbye, Glenn. No. No, you won’t.” Candace held the phone away from her and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, hold on.” Candace covered the phone slightly and raised her voice. “What was that, Jameson?”

  Jameson listened with amusement.

  “Sorry, Glenn. Jameson needs me. I’ll see you tomorrow. Right. I know you will. Noon. Right. See you then.” Candace tossed her phone onto the sofa. “Honestly.”

  “You know it would be okay if you needed to talk to him.”

  “I don’t. I told you what I need.” Candace stretched to place a kiss on Jameson’s cheek. “Just make sure you pick a short movie,” she said with a wink. “I’d like to get to bed early.”

  Jameson watched Candace strut off to the kitchen. For the second time that day, she fought to swallow the lump in her throat. It never gets old.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  September 28th

  Georgia State University—First Debate

  Candace sat quietly in the small room she’d been ushered into. She could hear the buzz just outside the door but she chose to ignore it. She’d only arrived in Georgia that morning after a whirlwind of appearances and a campaign rally a day earlier in Florida. Glenn was pressing her to dedicate more time to three specific states: Florida, Ohio, and North Carolina—all which he believed were in play for Candace. Candace had seen the analysis. She heard the poll results for each state and for
the general election. She was running three points ahead in most polls nationally. She’d warned her team against a false sense of confidence. A great deal could shift in a month. She listened to Glenn’s counsel. She listened to Michelle and Dana, to Grant and Doug. She’d even made it a point to consult with Nate Ellison on the finer points of the campaign as the clock ticked down. The two people whose advice and guidance she invested herself in were Cassidy Toles and Jameson. With so many competing ideas and opinions, she needed people she trusted to be honest with her—brutally honest if necessary. She’d been relieved and delighted when Cassidy had agreed to travel with her for the debates. While it was not a speech, debating required practice and preparation. Cassidy understood Candace’s voice. Candace would enlist every ounce of help that she could to nail the three debates ahead of her.

  “Okay if I come in?” Cassidy peeked into the room.

  “Tell me you have wine,” Candace said.

  “I promise I will buy you a glass after. Nervous?”

  “Aware,” Candace said.

  “Remember what we talked about,” Cassidy advised. “He’s going to pummel the idea that he’s built things. This is your forum, not his. These are the voters’ questions, not the moderator’s. That’s your advantage. Don’t let him pull you to his narrative. Pivot back to yours.”

  Candace took a deep breath. “How did Jameson seem?”

  “She walked in with a big smile,” Cassidy said. “If she’s nervous, she’s not showing it.”

  Candace grinned. She’s nervous. “Shell keeps saying she’s a pro.”

  “She pays attention,” Cassidy said. “That’s how we both learned.”

  “True.” Candace heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”

  “Excuse me, Governor Reid. They’re ready.”

  Cassidy reached over and hugged her friend. “You are so far out of his league, he’d need the starship Enterprise to catch you.”

  Candace chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Cassidy winked. “See you in ninety minutes.”

  “With wine.”

  “With wine,” Cassidy promised.

  Candace took a deep breath. Here we go.

  ***

  Jameson took Teresa Wolfe’s hand and shook it amicably. “Nice to see you,” Jameson said.

  Teresa Wolfe offered Jameson a smile. “Jameson,” she said. “It’s good to see you too.” She looked down at Cooper. “Hello, Cooper.”

  “Hi,” he replied a bit shyly.

  “Lots of lights,” Jameson explained.

  “I understand,” Teresa said.

  Jameson nodded and shook Bradley Wolfe’s only daughter’s hand. She’d never met Isabel Wolfe, though she had heard her on the campaign trail. “We haven’t met,” Jameson said.

  “No,” Isabel said.

  The smile on Isabel Wolfe’s face was strained, and Jameson couldn’t determine in the few seconds they had if it was due to dislike or regret. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Jameson said. “Come on, Coop.” She moved to find her seat a few rows away.

  Marianne nudged Michelle as they approached the Wolfe family. “Behave,” she whispered.

  “Tell Jonah that,” Michelle whispered back.

  “You too,” Marianne turned around and whispered to Jonah. He smiled.

  Jameson watched as the three stooges greeted Bradley Wolfe’s family. She forced herself not to laugh. She was sure that to anyone looking in, all three appeared genuinely friendly. She could detect the desire to scream in all of them. Despite her best effort, she chuckled softly.

  “Where’s Mommy?” Cooper whispered to Jameson.

  “She’s behind the stage, buddy. She’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  Cooper yawned. He looked at Jameson hopefully just as Marianne took her seat.

  “Do you want to sit in between me and Marianne instead?” she asked.

  Cooper nodded.

  “Okay.”

  Jameson had immediately regretted bringing Cooper when she saw the lighting design for the stage. While the lights were not moving, the entire theater was highlighted by blue and red lights. Lights remained a trigger for Cooper. He recalled them from the ambulance that whisked his biological mother away. Jameson and Candace had been gradually working on his anxiety. Jameson recognized that while Cooper’s coping skills had improved dramatically, some things would likely always cause him stress. She conveyed her concern quietly to Marianne on the way into the theater. Moving Cooper between them would help him to feel safe.

  “Hey, Coop.” Marianne leaned over into his ear. “Are you okay?”

  Cooper shook his head.

  “What’s wrong?” Marianne asked.

  Cooper looked up at the red and blue lights.

  “I know,” Marianne said. She reached over and took his hand. Cooper reached for Jameson’s at the same time.

  Jameson looked at Marianne helplessly and was met with a smile. The moderator, Dan Fitzgerald walked out onto the stage. Jameson whispered in Cooper’s ear. “Here comes Mommy.” She watched as his expression brightened. Yeah, I know how you feel, Coop. I know how you feel.

  ***

  Candace had grown tired of pivoting. She felt that she had held her ground, stuck to the issues. Cassidy was right; this was her forum. Nonetheless, Wolfe had come at her whenever possible. The digs were thinly veiled, backhanded insults that he dressed in sarcasm. Candace had failed to take the bait. She wished she could see her family, but the lights made it nearly impossible for her to see anyone except the person who stepped to the microphone. She’d answered questions about education, welfare, and immigration. One young single mother had asked how each candidate would ensure she could find affordable healthcare for her family. So far, everything had been textbook. Candace kept waiting for the curveball that didn’t come. Debates sought ratings too. The media would be looking for some sensational nugget to capture viewers’ attention for the next twenty-four hours. The end was in sight. Of course—save the ‘mess’ for last.

  “We’re onto our final question for each candidate. This question will be about your personal perspective and it comes from Dean Rigby. Mr. Wolfe, you will answer first. Governor Reid, Mr. Rigby will ask you a question to follow. There is no rebuttal period for this question. Mr. Rigby will be allowed one follow-up question.”

  Candace kept her eyes on the microphone stand.

  “Good evening,” the young man at the microphone greeted the candidates. “Mr. Wolfe, you’ve said that you are a Christian man. You’ve called both Governor Reid’s morals and policies into question. I’m also a Christian. Doesn’t our faith call us to heal the sick, feed and clothe the poor? Doesn’t it demand that we treat others as we wish to be treated? This country is diverse in every way. Do you believe that extends to every person or only some people? As a Christian and as a president, once this election is over, how will you live those values?”

  Candace nearly choked. In a million years, she would not have expected that question to be posed to Bradley Wolfe. She wondered what was in store for her.

  Wolfe paced to the front of the small stage. “Let me start by saying that I appreciate your question. You’re right. My faith does tell me that I am supposed to help those who are not as lucky as I have been.”

  Candace wanted to roll her eyes.

  “When I’m president, I’ll do what I’ve always done.”

  “God help us all,” Michelle muttered. Jonah kicked her.

  “I’ll build new systems that give people the chance to help themselves. I don’t think it’s our responsibility to provide everything for everyone. It’s our job to make sure they can provide for themselves. That’s what gives people pride.”

  Michelle bit her lip. “Which is a cardinal sin, you moron.” This time, Marianne kicked her.

  “The other part of your question was about treating people the way you like to be treated, right?” He took a breath. “I’ll go out on a limb and guess that your question refers to what I�
�ve said about Governor Reid’s relationship. I’ll repeat that here. I don’t have a problem with what the governor does in her personal life, but I do have a problem with it being a campaign slogan. Part of being Christian is learning to live according to God. I think a president has to live up to that example. Last I checked, homosexuality was a sin. She deserves forgiveness like anyone. That doesn’t mean that she should be a leader. As president, I’ll make it so that people can find ways to take care of their families. We need to get back to basics. Respect your parents. Pay respect to the people who serve the country. Respect the flag. Respect your teachers. Work hard. I don’t think it’s unfair to hold people accountable,” Wolfe said. “I’d expect no less.”

  Candace sat on her stool praying that her expression did not betray her.

  “Do you have a follow-up for Mr. Wolfe?” Dan Fitzgerald asked.

  “I do. Mr. Wolfe, do you believe that Governor Reid is less qualified because she is a lesbian?”

  “I believe she is less suited because she is a lesbian.”

  “Asshole,” Michelle sputtered.

  “Understatement,” Jonah whispered through gritted teeth.

  The moderator stepped back in. “Governor Reid, the final question is for you.”

  Dean Rigby stood again. Candace hopped off her stool and walked closer.

  “Good evening. Governor Reid.”

  Candace smiled.

  “My question for you is similar. You’ve avoided discussing your marriage in any detail with the press or on the campaign trail. While it is true that legally you have the right to marry anyone you choose, many people in this country, particularly religious people feel that your choice betrays American values. Is there anything you can share that might change their perception? They have been highly critical of you and your family in personal ways. If you are elected, how will you serve their needs and stay true to your convictions?”

 

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