Politically Incorrect (5 page)

He puffed out his chest and dropped his chin, locking his eyes on mine. I knew his stance was meant to intimidate me, and the truth was, it did, but I’d never let him know that.

“Lady, you don’t know me.” The tension in his voice was so tight it sounded like he could snap at any moment. Yet somehow he managed to hold it together. “So don’t pretend to. I might be young but I have a lot of experience under my belt, and I won’t allow some know-it-all consultant to tell me I don’t have what it takes to serve the American people because I’m not old enough.”

I tried to interject but he lifted a finger to my face, almost touching my lips. My whole body was enraged by his display of authority. No one ever spoke to me like that. Ever. They knew to trust me and to accept my advice. This little punk was challenging me, which felt both exhilarating and infuriating.

“Age is but a number,” he continued. “It doesn’t equal knowledge or experience. An eighteen-year-old can have more experience in their short life than a sixty-year-old. And, frankly, I am not some sort of statistic. We live in a world where a woman is the president of the United States. A black man has held that coveted seat in the oval office. There are no limits on what a person can or can’t do. Age, race, sexuality, and religious creed no longer define us. My age is a benefit. Bonnie Keating is old news. The Texas population is young and they want someone their age to help lead them into this new era. They thirst for new ideas and leadership. And, Ms. McNeal, I’m the person for the job.”

My mouth gaped open. Somehow, in the interim of his speech, we’d moved so close together that if he leaned forward just a little and I perched up on my toes, our mouths would surely meet. While that thought was tempting, there was something about his speech that thrilled me even more. His words were unrehearsed. They were natural. They came from deep inside him and with honest conviction. It was unusual to see so much raw passion exude from someone in politics. His impromptu speech breathed life into my chest. It excited me.

I glanced over my shoulder to Harper who was on the edge of his seat. Wide-eyed, his expression mirrored how I felt. Engaged, intrigued, and sold. Harper gave me a simple nod, as if to tell me Liam had just proven him right. I returned the nod, agreeing with him. It was yet another perk to being friends with someone for so long. Words weren’t needed between us. We knew what the other was thinking, and we were both thinking we had ourselves a candidate.

I stepped back, steepling my fingers together. “Okay.” I floated down onto the couch next to Harper. With a pat on the knee, I side-eyed him. “The kid has moxy,” I admitted.

“Moxy?” Liam echoed.

Harper and I ignored him. I shifted sideways, turning toward Harper. “Full DNC support?” I reiterated.

“Not only does he have full DNC support, but he also has complete backing of Harper Industries. Funding won’t be an issue.”

I nodded, drumming my fingers against each other as I calculated how best to play out this campaign. “I have provisos.”

“I expect nothing less.” Harper scooted back in his seat. He glanced up to Liam and held out his hand for the young Congressman to take a seat in the armchair adjacent from the sofa. Liam seemed hesitant at first but unbuttoned his jacket and dropped into the chair.

Note to self: Dark colors are good for his tanned skin. But the neon ties have to go!

“Let’s start off with cosmetics.” I glanced over at Liam, a look of confusion on his face.

“Okay,” Harper chuckled.

I stood up and circled around Liam, resting my hands on the back of the armchair. “He has nice form. Commands a room well, but the hair. It needs to be grown out.”

“What?” Liam glanced up and over his shoulder at me. God, those eyes. Empires would fall over those eyes.

“Your hair, Congressman. If you want people to take you seriously, you need to grow it out a few inches. This,” I circled my finger around the top of his head, “might work well in the military, you were in the military, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I thought so.” I dared to touch his short hair. It was soft, baby-fine and I wished it was already grown out so I could run my fingers through it. I jerked my hand back at such a thought. He was my client now. No fraternizing with a candidate was rule number one. But it was more than that. He was far too young for me. Almost eleven years too young. “But politics is sort of like Hollywood. People have certain expectations on how candidates should look.”

“No one had an issue with my hair before. Why now?”

I balled my hands at my side, putting my campaign face on. “Because as a US Congressperson for the state of Texas you’re one of thirty-six faces. It’s easy to overlook some things. However, as a US Senator you’re one of two. People are finicky and a man who purposely chooses to have no hair is either military or part of some cult. No one wants a KKK member as their senator. Ya get my drift?”

Liam’s eyes grew so large they were almost cartoonish.

“Okay, so we grow out his hair. What else?” Harper asked.

I stepped around to the side of the chair, catching his profile. Liam cocked his head to look at me, his brows raised in anticipation of what I might suggest next. “The tie.”

He lifted the bright orange excrescence and glanced down at it. “What’s wrong with my tie? I happen to love this tie.”

“It looks like something Big Bird would wear. We need you regal and that makes you look comical.”

Liam dropped his tie and crossed his arms over his chest. “What else?” he challenged.

“Are you in a relationship, Liam?” My heart stopped in my chest as I waited for the answer.

Liam leaned back in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee. His long fingers wrapped around his ankle and a cocky smile perked his lips. “Are you interested?”

I rolled my eyes, slumping my shoulders forward. “For professional reasons only, I assure you.”

If he only knew.

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “No girlfriend.”

“Wife?” I shot back. My eyes locked on his.

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

Neither of us flinched, nor did we blink.

“Not gay.”

I sat down on the arm of his chair, crossing my legs. He didn’t even bother to scoot for me to have room. His elbow rested right against my backside. Again, another challenge from him. He wouldn’t back down. That was fine.

Challenge accepted.

“If you must know about my sex life, I haven’t had a steady girlfriend in about three years, and even then it wasn’t serious. I’ve been too busy doing what I was elected to do.”

“Casual sex then?”

“Absolutely not. Sex is too intimate for it to be casual.”

I looked over to Harper who’d gotten up to pour himself another bourbon. “Is this kid for real?”

Liam’s fingers squeezed around his ankle. “I’d appreciate if you’d stop calling me a
kid
. I’m a grown man and
your
Congressman. I’m to be respected and addressed as such.”

I lifted my knuckles to my lips, stunned. Clearing my throat, I acknowledged, “You’re right. Please accept my apologies, Congressman.”

“Apology accepted, and yes, I’m for real. No matter what, I will never lie about who or what I am. You have my word on that.”

Chills formed over my arms. For the first time, in all my years in politics, I found myself actually believing a politician. It was an unsettling feeling.

“Okay.” I paused, meeting his deep stare. “Then I must ask, do you have a friend ─of the female persuasion─ who might be willing to accompany you to special events? We need to make you look stable and having the same young lady by your side will give that impression.”

A gleam twinkled in his eyes. “Yes. Kristin Page.”

I bounced off the arm of the chair, grabbing my clutch. I pulled out my cellphone and opened up a new memo to start taking notes. “Who is she?”

“Childhood best friend.”

“Is she in a relationship?”

“Not at this time,” he answered as quickly as I asked.

“Good.” I jotted her name down to run a background check on her later. One could never be too careful about who was involved in the inner workings of a campaign.

Harper moved back to where I’d initially found him when I entered the room. He placed his full glass on the mantle and began poking at the dying fire, bringing it back to life. Heat moved about the room and I relished the feeling. I hated the cold. Give me summer heat any day.

I drifted back to the sofa. “Since you claim to be honest…”

“I am honest.”

Harper glanced back to us, but said nothing.

“Yes,” I noted, attempting to appear unfazed by Liam’s interruption. “As I was saying, are there any skeletons in your closet I need to know about? Any at all? I don’t care how insignificant they might be to you, if it can be used against you, I need to know about it now.”

“No, ma’am.” He enunciated each word with precise deliberation. A practiced military response, but there was an attorney’s authority that I picked up on as well. For one so young, he might actually have some experience.

Again, our eyes locked. Those dark chocolate orbs were mesmerizing. His full lips pursed, almost begging me to challenge him. But I didn’t have the facts, which bugged me. With over four-hundred Representatives in the US House, sometimes one would slip off my radar. William Baxter happened to be that one. And since I didn’t know enough about him, I wouldn’t challenge something I wasn’t entirely certain to be true.

I dropped my gaze and made a quick note on my phone. It never failed, when I vetted a politician, I’d find some sort of skeleton. No matter how much they declared I wouldn’t. My guess was William Baxter would be no different.

“So, Liam, when you campaign, do you go by William or Liam?”

“William.”

“Good. If you’d said Liam, I would’ve suggested a different strategy.”

He nodded.

I brushed my hair from my eyes and relaxed back into the sofa. “Well then, there’s only one other demand I have.”

Harper turned around, holding his hands behind him close to the fire. “And this is the biggie, isn’t it?”

I laughed. “You know me well, my old friend.”

“I do. So what’s the deal breaker?”

“Congressman,” I addressed Liam, “who’s your current press secretary?”

Liam looked a little confused by the question. “Victor Knolls. Why?”

Ah, good ol’ Victor. Nice guy. Been in the business for years, but he was soft, which made what I was about to demand even easier to request. “Because you need to let him go.”

Liam jumped forward in his seat. His huge feet hit the ground and his hands clasped together as he rested his weight on his knees. “What? Victor’s been with me from the start. No. I won’t do that. He’s been nothing but loyal.”

“Loyalty is great and appreciated...”

“I won’t do it. I won’t fire someone on my staff because you said to. Absolutely not. You have no right to tell me who to hire.”

“You’re right, and I’m not telling you who to bring on as your chief of staff, which by the way, who is your chief?”

“My brother, Aaron,” he growled.

“Aaron Baxter. Got it.” There went another note into my phone. “Now, as I was saying, when it comes to the press we need someone who knows how to handle national campaigns with, shall we say, flare. Victor won’t be able to handle what I need him to do.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Harper asked, plopping down beside me. The warmth from the fire resonated from his skin. I placed my phone on the table and scooted in a little closer to enjoy the heat.

Liam cocked a single eyebrow. I furrowed mine, hating he could do the whole one eyebrow thing. I’d always envied people who could do that and roll their tongues.

I wonder if he can roll his tongue? I bet he has a talented tongue.

Dammit! I had to stop thinking things like that.

“Scout Whitaker,” I replied.

“Scout,” Liam balked. “Is that some sort of press nickname?”

I cocked my head and smirked. “No. That’s actually her name and she’s the best in the business. She’s a heavy hitter and that’s what we’re going to need if we’re to play hardball with the Republicans.”

“I can’t do that to Victor,” Liam stood firm.

I shrugged. “Well, then I can’t run your campaign. It’s really that simple.”

The room grew into a heavy silence. I stood up and made my way to the bar, pouring myself a club soda. I had to drive back to the city soon and needed to be sober, plus I didn’t want to be slobbering drunk in front of my client. I was a practice what you preach kind of gal, and appearances always came first.

I took a sip of my soda and watched as the man, who was the most honest person I was sure to ever meet, wrestled with what to do next.

“Listen, Liam, I know it’s a sacrifice, but if things don’t work out with Scout, you could always hire Victor back,” Harper encouraged. “And, I’ll even chip in a hefty donation so you can give him a great severance package.”