by Ines Saint
Murmurs from the audience showed they agreed.
Gretel nodded. "And in a way, this ties into our next viewer-submitted question, because you're right. Julia and Kayla didn't sign up for this. But you did. The public already knows what you want to do if you are elected, but this viewer wants to know why, exactly, you decided to run for mayor."
The screen now showed pictures of the Chicago Youth Works centers he had founded and his redevelopment efforts, but headlines about him being another wealthy man on a power-trip—complete with requisite foundation—flashed through his mind. The last person to ask him this question instead of guessing at his motive was Kayla. Jake folded his hands between his legs and wondered if he was letting his anxiety show. "I want to be mayor because..." he paused because only canned words seemed to come to mind. He sighed and decided to do what he had done with Kayla. Open up. "I know this might not make sense, but Chicago helped raise the best part of who I am. I loved getting lost in it when I was young. Both the grit and glitter are a part of me. Yes, I was born wealthy, and I can't help that, but I spend my time in places here that, frankly, most people avoid. I love neighborhoods that many have given up on. I love the people and the history and the potential. And I'm not saying this to make anyone feel guilty or to make me look like some do-gooder. Everyone has their own lives to worry about. I'm saying it because I wish everyone knew how much I want to take it all on. All of it. From the Gold Coast to the South Side, there are problems and opportunities, and they are more interwoven than people think. I just want the chance to take them on. And I know everyone's tired of me saying it, but I have detailed plans. It's not wishful thinking. I also know not every plan will work, and I know I'll take the heat when they don't, but I'm prepared to do so." Jake sat on the edge of his seat, looking out at the audience, with the sinking feeling that he'd bared his guts to people who thought he was making a campaign speech.
"Look at that, people, Jake Kelly is not a robot," Gretel said, but she was serious, and he thought she was looking at him with new eyes. Then an audience member began to sing the lyrics to Foreigner's "Hot-Blooded," and people started to clap or sing along, and even Jake laughed. Something flew in the air and hit the stage again. Samantha picked it up with a pencil and twirled it a few times. It was a bra.
"He's sexy when he's all worked up!" Someone shouted from the back of the studio. "Hear that, Jake? You're sexy when you're all worked up," Samantha teased.
"I am not all worked up." Jake smiled and sat back again.
"We're on to you, Jake. We're going to a commercial break now, but when we come back, we've got a few questions guaranteed to let us know just how hot-blooded Jake can get." Tess turned to camera one and, to Jake's mind, promised viewers to barbecue him. Live. He should've known they'd throw the softballs first, to make him let his guard down.
He muttered under his breath, but Tess, who had to have super-hearing, caught it and laughed. As the music played before they transitioned to the break, she hollered, "Hear that? Jake feels we're messin' with his mind!"
* * *
Kayla stared unseeingly at the commercials playing on the TV. She'd nearly dropped her phone when they mentioned her. But he'd answered the question about her beautifully. Things between them could've been great.
"Hello... Kayla Diaz? Are you still there? Please still be there."
"Yes," she said softly. She'd called. She'd said her name. What if she was making a huge mistake?
"I'm sorry to make you wait, but I had to call Peter and confirm you really are who you say you are, and that he'd given you this number."
"It's okay, I understand."
"Yes. But I need you to stay on the line, okay? Stay on the line! I need to reach Tess!"
Kayla wasn't sure she would. It didn’t seem like Jake needed her and she didn’t want to make things worse.
* * *
Jake watched as Tess quickly sat down again after the commercial. She'd been called away and had left looking a little annoyed about it, but she came back with a new spring to her step and a nearly blinding gleam in her eye. "The squadron of questions awaits! This time, live from our audience. Who wants to fire first?" Tess asked. A slew of hands went up. It took all of Jake's willpower not to wipe his brow. He glanced at Marcus. He looked constipated.
An older woman from the audience stood up. "I don't care about politicians' personal lives, and I think campaigns should be about ideas," she began, and Jake straightened. She was off to a good start. "But I do care when I hear a person has been grossly taken advantage of by a candidate. To request a quote from a family business, and to then sleep with the wife under the husband’s nose, is vile. You say Craig Stiles is lying, but he's compelling. What's your side of the story?"
"And remember, Jake. We want details," Gretel said.
Jake cleared his throat, but he found himself feeling about as nervous as he'd ever felt. A picture of Craig Stiles was behind him, and even he thought the man looked vulnerable and believable.
This was his chance. The one he'd come onto the show for. He'd practiced his answer. But the word vile had made his stomach curl. It hurt, and it brought the old exasperation back. He wanted to be believed because he was telling the truth, but all he could do was be firm in his denial. "I didn’t request a quote from Craig Stiles, who renovates houses, because I didn’t need a renovator. I’m doing the work myself. I requested ideas from Candace Stiles, who handled the interior decorating side of their business. She gave me her ideas, and I paid her for her time. But her vision, which included extensive work by Craig, didn’t match mine, and we parted ways amicably. I don't think she spent more than twenty minutes in the house—"
"Twenty minutes is plenty of time!" someone from the audience shouted.
Jake tensed. "Nothing happened. And the first time I saw Craig Stiles was in that newspaper article. He’s lying about everything. I don’t know why, but he’s lying."
Samantha nodded. "And that’s the crux of the matter, isn't it? We've heard your side, and we've heard his side. But she’s remained quiet so far, which is damning to you. Most people think she’d want to clear her name if her husband was lying. It's up to voters to decide who they believe, and if polls are to be believed, it's not looking good for you."
"I believe Craig!" someone shouted. And Jake shut down.
"And I believe Jake!" another person shot back. The audience laughed again. He couldn't believe he still had something like fifteen minutes to go.
"It's a case of he said, he said, if you will," Gretel quipped.
"Next question!" Samantha shouted.
Jake looked out at the audience unseeingly, knowing nothing else mattered now. The scandal was the one thing that was dragging him down the most, and he'd convinced no one of his innocence.
Hands went up, and a young man was chosen. "I'd like to know about the female friend you took up to your house in Kankakee, only because you say she's just a friend, but my family would kill me if I dumped them on Thanksgiving for some who's just a friend. I wouldn't risk it unless I cared deeply for the person."
Jake didn't care that he'd signed the contract. They could ask all they wanted. He wouldn't go there. "I'm sorry, but I won't discuss her. She needs and deserves her privacy. I'll only say my mom was visiting my aunt in the west coast, or she would've been there, too. And my friend's family was also out of town, so she wasn't abandoning anyone, either."
"We agree she deserves to have her privacy, and we're not asking for names. But you both said you were only friends..." Samantha began, and the three women were suddenly very serious. "And yet last night, we got this from a source who hired a professional photographer to digitally enhance the images." She gestured to the screen behind her, and Jake felt the blood drain from his face. It was the pictures of him carrying Kayla into the house. Her back was to the camera, and her face was hidden by him in each one, but in the digitally enhanced version, it was clear he was either kissing the woman or giving her mouth to mouth.
At that moment, he hated them. They had set him up. No wonder they'd been so eager to have him on. "I'm guessing you hate us right now," Tess said.
He watched as Marcus sunk into a chair with a horrified and defeated expression on his face. And Jake stopped caring about what everyone who didn't know him thought. He looked her in the eye and said, "I feel like I was set up."
"We told you in the beginning. We don't hold back over the things that matter, and candidates either hate us, love us, or hate us before loving us. And you may just end up loving us."
Gretel was at the edge of her seat. "You're a single man, Jake Kelly, and in my opinion, perfectly within your rights to pursue as many partners as you'd like, provided you're honest with them. People like me, who decide races, aren't comfortable with someone who manipulates and deceives to get his way. This is why all of this matters. Craig Stiles' story, if true, matters. And it's your word against his. So we look at circumstantial evidence."
Samantha nodded. "Three women have been pictured at this house. You said you were only showing it to Julia Hamilton, an old friend you've been romantically linked to—a link you've both denied. It's possible. We could believe that." She nodded at the audience, a few nodded back, and Gretel picked up the thread.
"The house is under your mom's name, which could mean you didn't want it discovered in a property records search, but you say it's because you originally bought it for her. Okay. That's also possible." Gretel shrugged, and Samantha nodded and continued.
"A friend was feeling low, so you went away with her on Thanksgiving weekend. You were seen carrying her, under the rain—which looked romantic to me—because she was dizzy. And she confirmed it all anonymously. But now we see these digitally enhanced pictures, and they show you were both lying. It makes us wonder if Julia is lying for you, too. And it makes Craig’s claims more believable. It makes him look like the only one willing to stand up to your lies."
Jake closed his eyes. He should get up and leave. He wanted to stand up and leave. But it wasn't fair to Julia, who now looked like a liar, and to everyone who had worked hard for him. He went back over every statement he'd put out. Feeling defeated, he opened his eyes, and looked at Samantha, because she was the last one who'd spoken. "If you look back at my statements about Julia and the interior decorator, I deny a romantic relationship with both, and Julia denies the same thing. But if you look back at my statement about the woman in that picture," he said, looking at it and feeling his breath catch, because it felt as if the world was sullying one of the best moments of his life, "I don't deny a romantic relationship," he breathed the words out. "I said she's a friend who'd gone through a difficult situation, that she needed to get away and I invited her, and that I carried her inside because she said she was dizzy." And then, feeling like a dick, and knowing that's what he would sound like, he said, "She did actually say she was dizzy. And I know it's mincing words, and that both our statements omitted information, but we have a right to keep our personal lives to ourselves. My entire life does not have to be out there, and none of her life deserves to be out there."
"True," Gretel agreed. "But this is about your believability. And frankly, Jake, you saying that the woman you're seen kissing had just been through something difficult, makes you look like you took advantage of her vulnerability."
Jake went cold. It was going from worse to worst. Especially because he agreed with Gretel. Anyone who came off the way he was coming off didn’t deserve the public’s trust. And as he sat there, feeling alone and utterly defeated, a comforting scent that immediately made him think of Filip surrounded him. A split-second later he realized what the smell was. He took a whiff. It was Bengay... with a hint of Vicks VapoRub. He remembered Filip's words, about how he could reach Jake when he was gone. But it couldn't be. It was crazy. "Which—which one of you is using Bengay and Vicks?" Jake sat up straight and stared at them. They all stared back as if he'd gone mad.
A few people laughed uncertainly, because the atmosphere was still tense, and Gretel gave him a cutting look. "Now that is one lame distraction. Surely a politician can come up with something better than that."
Samantha looked into Jake's eyes and apparently saw something there because, much to the audience's amusement, she got up to smell both Tess and Gretel and sniff around the scant stage furnishings before settling down again and saying. "Absolutely nothing smells like Vicks and Bengay, Jake," she said.
"Getting back to the subject," Tess stressed. "None of this looks good for you, does it? But we told you that if you spoke the truth, you'd be fine. So speak it. We don't need names, but don't hold back."
As crazy as it seemed, Jake knew Filip was trying to reach him. He thought about Filip's last words to him, that when it came down to it, the truth always set good people free. He blew out a breath. "I omitted truths from the public because I needed to protect the woman in the picture. Our relationship was between her and me. I've also omitted truths to the woman in the picture, but never to deceive her, or to take advantage of her... but because I was afraid. And that's all I can say here. I will tell the whole truth about that weekend, but I will only say it to her." He took another quick breath and let it out. "I've told the truth about Julia and the decorator. I've omitted nothing there. I don't have proof, but I do have the truth on my side, and it'll be enough for me that the people I love know it. There's nothing else I can say."
"Maybe there isn't," Tess said. "But maybe there’s proof that you’re telling the truth after all."
Gretel and Samantha both spoke at once, telling Tess that she shouldn't be keeping them in the dark, and the audience grew restless. Jake didn't know what to think anymore. Tess held up her hand. "Kayla Diaz called my private line a little while ago. We've confirmed it's her, and she has something she'd like to share with the people of Chicago," she explained. “Candace Stiles called, too. It turns out she’s been staying with her mom in Hawaii, to get over the breakup of her marriage, and she didn’t know about the controversy surrounding her. Both want to speak the truth, but Candace’s phone lost signal. I want to let her speak for herself, so I will wait for her to call back. Meanwhile, here’s Kayla.”
Jake froze. Things had spun completely out of control. Kayla had called? And Candace? Would Candace tell the truth? And what in the world would Kayla say?
"Hello?" he heard Kayla's voice on the line. He swallowed hard.
"Hello, Kayla. You told me there was something you needed to share with our viewers?" Tess prompted her.
A sigh came over the line, and Jake felt powerless because he couldn't protect her. What was she doing? Kayla cleared her throat. "Just that Jake hasn't lied to you. Julia Hamilton and I are friends, and I know for a fact that she has no romantic feelings for him. She'd, well, actually like him to find someone."
A smattering of "So would we!" from the audience quieted Kayla, who laughed softly. It helped Jake see some people still believed in him, and he managed to smile a little. "And I'm also calling in about Craig Stiles’ story." There was an edge to her voice, and Jake realized he was gripping the love seat's armrest so tightly, his knuckles were white. "He said he caught them in the master bedroom, and that Jake ran into the master bedroom... but there's no master suite in that house. Craig Stiles also could not have confused a closet door with a bathroom door because the closet doors are all sliding doors. And a renovator especially wouldn't make these mistake, don't you think? It lends support to Jake's story that Candace never made it upstairs. Her husband was right about the book Persuasion being on the desk in the library downstairs, which is something she could’ve told him. I don’t know what his motivation is, but I think he should call in right now, or give some interview where he gives details about that second story, like the layout or bedroom décor, or—or anything!”
Jake could see her now, pacing and gesturing all over the place, letting her emotions run away from her because she knew she was right. He couldn't believe she was doing this for him, and he wished he was with her,
so he could hug her close, and tell her all his truths.
"And how do you know there's no master bedrooom or bathroom in that house?" Gretel asked, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. It seemed like the entire audience leaned forward as one.
"I know because... well because I'm the woman he's carrying in the picture. Jake invited me to go up with him because we happened to be in the same place at the same time—on a boat he rented for his staff, so they could look at the fireworks—when I saw something that upset me. It wasn't because there was anything going on between us." Kayla now sounded uncomfortable. "And I also wasn't feeling vulnerable, so please don't say that he took advantage of me. That's awful. It was more that I needed to get away, and I needed to practice. Which I did! When people asked my sister if it was me, she didn't lie. She was away for the weekend, and she knew I'd be practicing. Just know that I know Jake, and I believe in him. He's never done anything remotely manipulative, or deceitful. Well, only when he pretended he didn't recognize me after Summer Dance." She laughed a little. "But he apologized and explained why, and it wasn't easy for him."
"You two are obviously kissing in the picture—" Gretel began, but she was cut off by Kayla, who now sounded uncomfortable, "Well, but that really is between us, and..."
"Please leave her alone," Jake said. "She said what she called in to say, and it was brave of her, and I'm grateful to her even when I wish she hadn't put herself out there like that. But she's obviously uncomfortable."
"What about you, are you uncomfortable?" Gretel shot back.
"Hell yeah!" Jake splayed his hands out. Everyone but him burst out laughing.
The line above went dead, and he couldn't help wonder what Kayla was thinking now. His heart was no longer in the show, it was with Kayla. She'd called and put herself out there to help him. How was she feeling? Why would she do that for him? And why did it still smell like Vicks and Bengay? He felt like he was finally coming undone.