by Pamela Yaye
Lance was first in line, grabbing his copy and making a beeline to his truck. Within minutes he was at Monique’s house, ringing her bell.
“How do we look?” Monique asked as she opened the door. She’d been up since dawn, handling some of her attorney obligations after a heartwarming phone call with her parents.
“I don’t know. I came right over.”
He handed her the paper. As expected, the article on the mayoral debate was front-page news. The Race Is On! was the story’s caption, with the poll numbers front and center, bolded and set apart with a text box.
“Wow! We’re closing the gap!” Monique’s eyes shone as she sat at the dining-room table and spread out the paper.
Lance joined her. “‘Drake, thirty-three percent,’” he read. “‘Slater with thirty’! Oh, my goodness, Ms. Mayor...we’re only trailing by three percent!” He reached for Monique, pulled her out of the chair and began dancing around the room.
“Okay, Lance, calm down!” Monique demanded, amid a peal of laughter. However, it was hard not to be giddy. Last month they’d trailed Drake by over 10 percent. She returned to where the paper lay and continued to scan the article. “‘While Drake remains the front-runner, Slater is gaining ground by obviously drawing supporters from both the independents and Republicans. This is most evident in the decrease in Republican candidate Dick Schneider’s numbers, which are down thirteen percent from the poll taken two months ago. Currently, he is carrying twenty-seven percent of the vote while Libertarian candidate Buddy Gao remains at ten percent.’”
“This is great news! We’re going to beat them, Mo. We can do it!”
“It’s very good news, Lance, but we can’t get comfortable. There are still three weeks to go. Anything can happen. So we have to stay focused, keep knocking on doors and passing out flyers, keep calling our constituents and asking for their support. If I’m elected—”
“When you’re elected...”
“—there will be plenty enough time to celebrate.”
* * *
Niko sat at his parents’ dining-room table, where at his mother’s insistence he’d joined the family for breakfast. Ike had just read aloud the newspaper article on the mayor’s race. Everyone had an opinion.
Niko reached for his cup of coffee. “There’s no denying it. She was excellent the other night, as I knew she would be. I’m not surprised at the jump in her numbers. But I’m not worried, either.”
“Son, I wouldn’t be overconfident. I’ve been reading up on her via the internet and she’s quite accomplished.”
“Easy on the eyes, too,” Terrell added.
“She is rather attractive,” Jennifer added, pouring more tea into her cup. “But she’s definitely more than a pretty face. Niko, as confident as I am in your skills, I think you may have met your match.”
“I never underestimated Monique’s abilities. If you’ll remember, she was the one who bested me for the championship in a college debate.”
Jennifer looked over in surprise. “That’s her?”
“Yes. I reminded Dad about it. I thought he’d told you.”
“He most certainly did not,” Jennifer replied, with a playful slap on her husband’s arm. “So she’s smart as well as cunning. How interesting.” Jennifer’s eyes were speculative as she gazed at her son and pondered this news. “I’d like to get to know her. Wonder if she’d accept a dinner invitation.”
Niko frowned. “Mom...”
“Now, that would be an interesting meal.” Ike Jr.’s eyes were filled with humor as he studied a slightly squirming Niko while taking a drink of juice. “After watching how she handled the debate, I’m tempted to vote for her myself!”
“What y’all need to do is take your focus off of my competition and put it back where it belongs...making these last weeks count. With that being said—” Niko pushed back from the table and stood “—I’ve got to get to the office.” He walked over to his mother and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for breakfast. Terrell, you coming by the campaign office later?”
“Yes, Teresa and I will be there in an hour.”
“What’s going on at the office?” Ike Sr. asked.
“A plan to ensure that I’ll win this election...no matter what.”
* * *
Still charged up from the morning’s news and a hard but productive twelve-hour day, Monique put on her walking shoes and headed outside. She was just minutes into her power walk when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and slowed down a bit as she answered. “Hey there.”
“Counselor!” Niko’s voice boomed through her earbuds. “Congratulations on turning this into a real race!”
“Thanks, Niko. I’m thrilled, but needless to say, it’s not over until it’s over.”
“Definitely not, especially since I’m going to do everything in my power to defeat your sexy behind.”
“I have no doubt about that.”
“Your performance at the debate has definitely garnered its share of attention. You were even the topic at the family breakfast.”
“Oh?”
“Ike Jr. said he was tempted to vote for you.”
“That’s not likely to happen.”
“No, but it’s a testament to how impressive you were the other night.”
“I appreciate that, Niko, and given that we are opponents, I’m impressed with your kindness. It sounds sincere.”
“It is.” A pause and then “What are your plans for the homestretch?”
“More of the same—canvassing neighborhoods, phone banks, knocking on doors. But I have to go to L.A. to finish handling Devante’s case.”
“Couldn’t get it done from here, huh?”
“No. He violated parole by leaving where I’d placed him and staying with his cousin, a felon. There’s a new parole officer. His paperwork got screwed up. It’s a mess.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’m hoping to be able to finish in a couple days, but it might take a week.”
“Okay. Keep in touch.”
“I will.”
“Turn off the television. Turn off your phone. And get some sleep. You need it.”
“You’re right. Good night.”
Later, as Monique flipped through the channels after packing for her trip, she felt tired but happy. Since moving to Paradise Cove, her life had changed in ways she could not have imagined. Having just broken up with Rob months before coming here, a relationship with Niko had been the last thing on her mind. Sure, when she’d allowed herself to dream, she’d imagined it. But the reality was imminently more amazing.
Reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp, she was surprised to hear someone on television saying her name.
“Monique Slater,” the professional yet somber male voice intoned, “running for mayor on a platform that promises Paradise Cove a new day.” An intrigued Monique reached for the remote and turned up the volume. “Yet while working as an attorney in Los Angeles, she was fired for improper conduct...dating a client.” Monique’s mouth dropped, along with the remote from her hand. “Questionable conduct. Questionable character. Questionable acquaintances. Is this the type of person you’d trust to lead you anywhere? I don’t think so.” As a picture of a mean-looking Monique dissolved into a picturesque view of Paradise Cove, a pleasant female voiceover said, “Paid for by Independent Citizens for a New Paradise.”
Independent Citizens? For several seconds she sat there, stunned. Her hand crept to her chest, heartbeat hammering against it as the words replayed in her head. This couldn’t possibly have come from Niko’s independent party, she thought. But that was what the ad had said. Grabbing the remote, she punched the guide to see the channel. More shock. The televis
ion hadn’t been on the town’s community station, but on an ABC affiliate.
There had to be an explanation. She got out of bed and placed a call. It rang several times and then went to voice mail. “Niko, it’s me. Please call as soon as you get this message.” She was about to contact Lance when a comment Niko had made earlier crossed her mind. The force of its implication was chilling.
I’m going to do everything in my power to defeat your sexy behind. “No,” Monique muttered, pacing across her bedroom floor. “He wouldn’t.”
Turn off the television. Turn off your phone.
Words that previously sounded caring now seemed dubious at best. “He didn’t want me to see it, wanted me to leave town while this poison spread.” No, not possible. She couldn’t fathom that someone who had kissed her so tenderly and loved her so completely could possibly stab her in the back. But the thoughts and memories kept coming, particularly snatches of one specific conversation.
Have you ever dated a client?
I was fresh out of law school.
During one of these visits is when things got carried away.
It shouldn’t have happened.
I shared some things that I hadn’t planned to. I know we’re in what’s sure to become a highly contested race but—
She called Niko again. No answer. “Calm down, Monique. He always calls back.”
After a sleepless night, she headed to the airport. Her godmother, Lance and a couple of workers from the campaign office had seen the commercial and immediately called with their advice and support. She’d phoned Niko several times and left another message. Her calls were not returned.
Chapter 26
Niko paced the room, trying yet again to reach Monique. Since turning on his phone and seeing missed telephone calls and news of the negative ad on her, he’d called repeatedly. He’d worked late and in a rare move decided to turn off his phone and sleep until eight. That was what you got for following your own advice.
Bryce sent him the video link. What he saw was appalling. The words were bad. The images, worse: a laughing Monique and her alleged client/lover leaving the courtroom, a frowning, finger-pointing Monique that Niko figured was taken in a courtroom but out of context looked crazed, and the most disturbing, footage of the recent school fire as the announcer questioned her conduct, character and acquaintances.
He hit Replay. “Paid for by Independent Citizens for a New Paradise.” Who is this? A name not on any campaign fund lists he’d read, but obviously someone who knew a lot about Monique. Niko hadn’t a clue. Aside from her ex Rob, her godmother, Margo, and a best friend named Emma she sometimes mentioned, he didn’t know her friends or, in this case, her enemies.
After formulating a strategy, he scrolled the address book for his sister’s number. Not only did Teresa freelance for the Cove Chronicle, but she was also one of the nosiest people he knew. Teresa could convince a statue to talk. Other sources could have been contacted, but Niko wanted to keep private his involvement in resolving this issue. And that was exactly what he planned to do: help fix this.
“Teresa, good morning.”
“Good morning.” Niko heard his sister stifle a yawn. “Why are you calling so early?”
“It’s not early. It’s eight-thirty. Working people should be up by now.”
“What do you want?”
“I need you to do a little investigative work.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Have you seen the smear ad on Monique?”
“Mo Slater? No, I haven’t.”
“I’ll email you the link, but it’s nasty, sponsored by a group calling themselves the Independent Citizens for a New Paradise.”
“This came from your party?”
Niko rubbed his forehead. An uncomfortable thought formed. “I highly doubt it. But your question makes me wonder if that was the intended implication. I need you to query your TV contacts. Find out who submitted the ad and who’s connected to this group. I have an idea but need proof. I need this information ASAP.”
“I’ll get right on it. Send me the video link and give me an hour or two. I’ll call back as soon as I have info.”
By nine o’clock, Niko was in the office amid constantly ringing phones: associates asking if he’d seen the ad, news reporters wanting a quote. “It’s deplorable,” he told one reporter. “Anyone who puts out a smear ad like that should have their character questioned.”
Despite the unfolding ad drama, Niko had a campaign to spearhead and a business to run. After a couple of interviews and dozens of phone calls, he headed over to Drake Realty for a business meeting. On the way, his phone rang yet again. It was the call for which he’d waited. He tapped the button on his steering wheel to answer it.
“Monique! I’ve been calling you all morning.”
“Yes, well, I called you all night.”
“Babe, so sorry I missed your calls. I turned off my phone, didn’t get your messages or see the ad until this morning.”
“Had I turned off the television as you suggested, I wouldn’t have seen it, either.”
“I’m as outraged and angry as I’m sure you are and already working to find out who did it. Their ploy is not going to work.”
“Really, Niko? You have no idea who’s behind this incident?”
“No. I don’t.” His brow creased at her choice of words and the sarcastic way they’d been delivered.
“Paid for by the Independent Citizens for a New Paradise—your party. You told me you’d do whatever it took to beat me, but this...”
“Wait, Monique, I—”
“Obviously I am a bad judge of character. My process of choosing friends and lovers is definitely flawed!”
“Monique, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this.”
“That’s what I desperately wanted to believe. Yet I can count on one hand without using all my fingers how many people outside my law firm know why I was fired from that job. You took what I shared in confidence and used it to your advantage. Good move, Counselor. I guess all’s fair in love, war and political campaigns.”
“You’ve got this all wrong, Monique. And I’m going to prove it.”
“What you’ve proven is that after what happened the last time we competed, you are willing to do anything to not be defeated again. Was that your M.O. all along? Seduce me, become my friend and confidant and extract information for personal gain?”
“Monique, listen—”
“You’re right about one thing. The ploy won’t work. I still very much plan to win this race. Goodbye, Niko.”
Niko banged a fist on the console. The unthinkable yet plausible reaction he’d feared Monique might have had just been realized.
* * *
Monique drove a good five miles before noticing how hard she was gripping the wheel. “Calm down.” Easy to say when her life was anything but. Last night she’d doubted Niko’s involvement, but by morning he was the only one that made sense. She’d planned to hear him out, but his phony concern was beyond infuriating. He’d help find out the culprit? Yeah, right.
Her eyes became watery. She dared one tear to fall.
Since landing, she’d had a plethora of activities to keep her focused: securing a rental car, picking up Devante, going to the courthouse, meeting with his judge and talking to the family whom Devante would live with. From these visits she surmised that the negative ad wasn’t running in Los Angeles and from an earlier conversation with her mother gathered that it hadn’t hit the East Coast. She prayed that it wouldn’t, that for once the news in Paradise Cove would be like that of most small towns in America...unimportant.
“Who now?” Monique mumbled as her phone rang. She’d received several calls from thirsty reporters. Hopefully this wasn’t one. As upset as she was right now, there was no t
elling what she’d say.
“Emma.”
“Hey, Monique. Sorry I missed your call. Spent my morning at the DMV. How are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Uh-oh. That’s not good.”
“Not at all.” Monique told Emma what had transpired in the past twenty-four hours. “I was a fool to trust him,” she finished, gritting her teeth to stop threatening tears. “He played me like a fiddle and I sang his tune.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mo. You took someone at face value, a man you thought you knew. He took advantage of a vulnerable moment. What are you going to do?”
“For starters, get back to Paradise Cove as soon as possible. I had to handle an emergency in L.A., and while here I’d planned to spend some time at the firm. Plans have changed. I can’t let an attack like this go unanswered. The longer I take to respond, the more the rumors will spread. I’ve commented briefly to several reporters, denying the allegations. But that’s not enough. I have to go on the air and tell my side.”
“Was this televised nationally?”
“No, thank God. I called Mom first thing this morning. If it had run anywhere in their area, believe me, they’d know. It still might get leaked. This story and the fallout from it are going to follow me for the remainder of this campaign.”
“I’m so sorry this has happened. Do you have a good support system around you?”
“Yes. Along with raising a whole lot of hell, Margo is also raising the money that will fund this new and unexpected ad. Lance, my campaign manager, has become a good friend who I know has my back.”
“What about Rob? I know you guys broke up, but at one time he was a very good friend.”
“We talk occasionally, mostly through text and email. Haven’t heard from him lately. I think he’s seeing someone.”
“Well, you should call him, get that analytical point of view that people good with numbers are known for.”
“Perhaps I will.” Monique sighed. “Enough about my soap-opera life. How are you and the baby?”