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The Romance Vote

Page 7

by Ali Vali


  “You’re right,” Chili said, and the crew stopped talking. “I just got a new gym membership and I’m happy with my choice. Other than that, not much exciting to report.”

  “Have you driven by Virgil’s place? Come on, that’s exciting. Where’d you find assault rifles that big?”

  “Save the questions for later, or we won’t have anything to talk about.”

  “Always the pragmatic one,” Maria said as she sat next to her. The crew returned to their gossip, and Maria laughed at what she apparently assumed was Chili’s stubbornness.

  The interview went as expected, with the scene at Virgil’s that afternoon playing in the background and Chili talking only about Virgil’s stance on the different topics the campaign centered on. It didn’t take long for Maria to move on to other things, including the governor’s and senate race, which was a few years in the future, and those answers Chili kept fairly neutral. Maria was done after that.

  “Do you mind if I have Sam on next week?”

  It was a strange question, considering Sam wasn’t on a leash that she knew of. “You’d have to call her and see if she’s interested. She doesn’t need my permission.”

  “I ask because she’ll probably want your blessing, and I promise if you give it I’ll stick to the theme of the next generation of Pellegrin king-makers.”

  “I’ll run it by her and have her call you.”

  “Thanks,” Maria said, and shook her hand.

  Now all she had to do was meet with Paula and explain her future role with Virgil’s campaign. After that she could go home and peel her skin off and enjoy a beer. She’d called Paula on the way to the studio, and her ex had sounded excited to finally get that drink date she’d been after. Chili had chosen the Petroleum Club, since the clientele would hopefully make Paula think before creating a scene. That was no guarantee, but the possibility of future loss of business might motivate Paula to behave. Nothing turned off potential clients more than channeling a demonic psychopath in public.

  “Chili, how the hell are you doing?” the host asked when she stepped off the elevator on the thirtieth floor. The view of the river and city were spectacular up here, and she stopped to look out the windows even though she’d been here often.

  “Older by the day, Manny.”

  “You must be getting bat-shit crazy too, if you’re here to meet Paula Stern. Do you want to come up with a code word for the bartender?”

  “If he hears the phrase ‘I’m going to kill you slowly and with a lot of pain,’ tell him to develop a sudden hearing loss. After the last few days I might not be kidding.”

  Paula was already at the bar watching the interview Chili had just finished, now airing on the five o’clock news. The portion Maria had shot at Virgil’s stayed on longer than Chili would’ve liked, but that story would soon be put in its grave, where Chili would bury it under fifty feet of good press. She stood back and waited for the segment to end, wanting to watch it without Paula breathing in her ear.

  “You want to explain why I was escorted from Virgil’s headquarters this afternoon?” Paula asked, skipping her usual syrupy welcome when Chili sat next to her.

  “So we could take down the tacky shit and burn it behind the building. What exactly was going through your brain when you came up with that genius idea?”

  “Virgil’s got to play to the people who vote and will elect him, especially in an election cycle where folks will be as motivated to go to the polls as they will to step in dog shit.”

  “A fourth of his district falls in the New Orleans city limits,” she said slowly, so the words would sink into Paula’s martini-soaked head. “The last time they voted for someone with giant gun cutouts in front of their building, Abraham Lincoln was president, and they voted for the other guy in that election too. Starting tomorrow Sam will keep the schedule, and if you need anything, go through her or Beth from our office. Your only job will be to make sure Virgil knows where he’s supposed to be—that’s it.”

  “I’d rather go through you, and I’m not a glorified secretary. Virgil hired me as his manager, and you’re going to have to accept it. Hell, we’re already getting press,” Paula said as she pointed to the television.

  “True. If there were a show centered around the funniest campaigns and the idiots involved with them, we would’ve won today. Press like that is like celebrating that your guy’s the only one running with syphilis. It sets him apart and gets you plenty of airtime, but not in a good way.”

  “I’ll promise to be good if you promise to stop pretending to hate the sight of me.” Paula snaked her arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “You can’t have forgotten the heat between us. I sure haven’t.”

  “I have a long memory when it comes to you,” Chili said, and Paula tightened her hold, “because the screaming show you put on is still vividly fresh in my mind. And in case you’re wondering, it always will be.”

  “Don’t exaggerate, baby. It’s obnoxious.”

  “I’m not exaggerating. I’m being kind.” Chili stopped to take a large drink from the beer the bartender had poured and put in front of her before quickly retreating as far away from them as possible without actually leaving the building. “I’ll continue my giving ways by trying to move forward from the disaster the last time we worked together turned out to be. This campaign is short, but it’s important to Virgil, so you need to remember it’s about him and not you.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Paula asked, saying each word slowly and not exactly in her inside voice.

  Chili understood the tone since she’d been on the receiving end more than once. Paula was like a dormant volcano rumbling to life. When she blew it was a spectacular show that made for a good story, if you were on the sidelines looking on and not in the path of the lava flow.

  “I met with Virgil and Candy today, and they both signed off on the new distribution of duties.” Paula’s fingers dug into Chili’s shoulder, ensuring she’d definitely be crispy by the time Mount Paula finished venting.

  “You fucking bitch.”

  Oh, here we go, thought Chili as she sighed. She figured the horns and leathery wings would come next, so she tried to move a stool over before she got strangled with the long forked tongue she was sure Paula hid well. “They also gave me the power to fire you, so stop talking right now and let me finish,” she said as she grabbed Paula’s hand so she couldn’t step away from her.

  “Don’t give me that shit,” Paula said, her voice rising to a shriek usually heard only in theaters full of tween girls watching horror movies. “You’ve been waiting for this since you fucked me and dumped me once the sheets got cold.”

  “Problem?”

  The question and who was asking it made Chili hope this was the part of her nightmare where she woke up and laughed at the absurdity of this scenario actually happening. Since she wasn’t that lucky, she had no choice but to answer. “We were discussing strategy. What brings you here?”

  “I have dinner with my father here once a week. The food’s good and you can’t beat the view, but it’s usually quieter.” As Sam was talking, Maria got off the elevator and joined them with a large smile.

  “I guess Huey isn’t the only one who likes the view.”

  “Who gives a shit,” Paula said loudly. “This isn’t over, so don’t make a lot of plans with Virgil. When I’m done you’ll be the one taking shit from me.”

  “Your vocabulary hasn’t expanded much, and to finish what I was going to say before your brain short-circuited, I wasn’t planning to get rid of you.” The way Sam stared at her made her take her own advice, and she stopped talking. “Good night to all of you.”

  Maria put her arm around Sam’s waist as she finished her beer. It couldn’t be anything intimate, since Maria was in a relationship, but it was more familiar than pure friendship. If it was, Sam had never mentioned it, and she wasn’t about to ask why Maria had gone through the dance she had about asking her permission to interview S
am. Any more surprises and the greeter job at Walmart would become more enticing.

  “That’s it.” Paula’s voice was now at a level Chili was sure had dogs howling in the streets. “Run away like you always do, but I’m going to make you pay.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, putting money on the bar and desperately trying to think of any prayer the nuns had crammed into her head when she was in Catholic school. The fact she’d survived the demon pack of rabid penguins with their rosary beads, which were in fact the original weapons of mass-ass destruction, gave her the courage to face anything. “I paid and now I’m walking. If that or anything else tonight is in any way newsworthy—” She left the rest unsaid for Maria.

  “I’m only here for the view, the company, and the steak. The next time we speak professionally we’ll have a new senator. You have my word,” Maria said.

  “Uh-huh,” she repeated as she saw Paula’s hand come up, so she took a quick step to the left to avoid it. “Thank you for shopping at Wally World,” she mumbled, and Sam stepped closer.

  “Did you say something?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing important—just talking to myself about my to-do list. Enjoy your night.”

  Chapter Six

  Sam arrived at Virgil’s headquarters the next morning and helped the film crew set up for the spots they were shooting once Chili, Virgil, and Paula were done in the office. The door was closed, and so far all she’d heard was Paula’s voice. Like the night before, she didn’t sound thrilled.

  “Somebody’s not happy, huh?” the guy with the camera asked her.

  “Yeah, but you guys know not to talk about all this, right?” She briefly glanced at him before she went back to staring at the door, willing it to open.

  “And have Chili rip my balls off, light them on fire, and feed them to me? No worries about anybody here. We’re all cool. I was just making an observation.”

  Almost as if by her sheer will the door opened and Paula was the first one out. She appeared angry, and she glared at Chili once she’d stomped over to the closest chair, but aside from the visible hostility, she kept quiet.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked Chili, once the director took Virgil to his mark and screamed at his camera guy to get going.

  “Paula got a new job, and she’d like nothing better than to stab me in the eye with a Vote-for-Virgil pin to celebrate her demotion.” Chili gave the director a thumbs-up once he’d set up the first shot with Virgil in it.

  “You still aren’t going to tell me why she hates you so much but obviously still wants you?”

  “I’m sure you’ve gotten that story by now, and Paula wants me as much as she wants to tattoo Stupid on her forehead. Never mind that it’d fit her and serve as a warning to the world at large.”

  “Why would I ask you if I knew that?” She was amazed at Virgil’s transformation and how beautiful his wife was when she stepped in and took her place behind his stool. With his new clothes they made a very attractive couple.

  “You had dinner with Maria Poplin last night, right?” Sam nodded. “Then I’m sure your date was thrilled to give you a complete report. If she didn’t volunteer it, I’m sure you asked.”

  “Maria didn’t give up any of your secrets, and she wasn’t my date.” Chili still wouldn’t make eye contact, and it bothered her. “If it makes a difference I don’t care what your history with her is. Paula’s obviously a bit unhinged, so it’s a good thing that history is all you share with her now.”

  “No, all her screws are in tight,” Chili said, and laughed. “The people who fall in her web are the ones that have the problems.”

  “Ah, a hint,” she said, and winked at Chili when she finally looked at her.

  “It’s more of a warning than a hint.”

  “No, I’m taking it as a hint.” She glanced back at Paula and the scowl was still in place. “Paula’s not my type.”

  “With smarts like that, I should be flogged for calling you unteachable.”

  “That can be arranged,” Sam said, and Chili laughed.

  *

  Two weeks went by and Sam was no closer to getting to the truth about Paula and Chili, so she went back on her promise to herself at her weekly dinner with Huey. “Daddy, do you know Paula?”

  “Paula Stern who works for Virgil Emery? That Paula?”

  “That’s the one.” She nodded to the waiter when he held the wine bottle Huey had ordered over her glass.

  “I’m acquainted with her, but I don’t know her well. Why, is there a problem?”

  “I was just wondering about her and Chili.”

  He took a sip of his wine, then stared at it as if he’d find the perfect answer in the amber liquid. They had picked Ruth’s Chris Steak House that night because he loved the atmosphere. They’d run into a few others in the same business who wanted to talk shop, but Huey had waved them off as they’d made their way to a semi-private table in the corner. “Before I answer your question and we start talking about Paula, let me tell you that I love Chili like part of our family.”

  “I know that,” she said before taking a small sip of wine and almost stopping him before he said anything else. All of a sudden it wasn’t important to know the story of Paula and Chili.

  “Every so often Chili’s got about as much willpower as the devil on Sunday. Paula was one of those temptations she should’ve passed up but didn’t, and it was rather turbulent at the end.”

  “I’ve never known you to be a prude, Daddy.”

  “I’m not. It’s just that for all the good qualities I want you to learn from, like her instincts when it comes to political advantage, I want you to stay the hell away from her socially.” He put his hands up and held them higher when Sam started to say something. “I know exactly how old you are and that I sound like a meddling old man, but I’m right about this. Chili Alexander is bad news when it comes to women.”

  “And how do you know I’m into women?”

  “Because I’ve never known you to date anyone of the male persuasion, and you gave new meaning to sorority-sister closeness when you were at Tulane.” Huey chuckled. “I don’t want you to try to change anything about yourself to make the world or me happy, Sam, but I don’t want you to set yourself up for a world of hurt either.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I mean it. You’re old enough to know better, but I’m your father and it’s my job to save you from a cartload of trouble when I can.”

  “Whatever happened must’ve been something,” she said, trying to sound dismissive of the subject.

  “Crap like that got more than enough people to call me and tell me to stay the hell away from Chili when she came to me for a job.” The waiter put down their oysters Rockefeller and left them to their talk after he refilled their wineglasses. “Chili, though, does a good job of selling herself, so I took a chance. My gamble paid off, and I laugh whenever I see those concerned folks who warned me about the problem child I was taking on. Every one of those bastards was waiting for me to fire her after Paula so they could pounce.”

  “Politics isn’t for the faint of heart, for sure.”

  “No, but if you’re good at what you do it is forgiving—Bill Clinton proved that. Sex isn’t the death knell it used to be, and I think Chili learned her lesson when it comes to indiscretions biting you in the ass. She’s a little more careful now, but she’s still a player that isn’t about to slow down, from what I see.”

  She rolled her wineglass between her hands and nodded. It wasn’t the entire story but enough of it to reach some sound conclusions without pushing her dad for any more. “Virgil and his wife certainly love her.”

  “Of course they do. Chili is good at delivering on the kinds of promises she’s making them. She’s a master of the game, the best I’ve come across, really, but remember what I said. Keep your distance when it comes to anything but work.”

  “Not that I’m interested, and I’m not, but aren’t you being a little harsh? You said she learned he
r lesson, so why not cut her some slack?”

  The way he pressed his lips together meant he had his mind set on the subject and defiance would have consequences, and because her father was the most overprotective man she knew when it came to her, this time Chili would pay even if Sam made the first move.

  “She’s brilliant, but you deserve someone better, and nothing will change my mind about that.” Huey picked up an oyster with his cocktail fork and held it over the plate as if she’d pinged his worry antenna. “Is there something I should know?” The way his face had paled she thought he’d be sick if she told him she was in love with Chili.

  “Nothing. I was curious since Chili acts like a nervous cat whenever Paula’s within ten feet of her. I figured you’d know why. Besides, I’m too busy for a social life at the moment.” She laughed and pushed his fork closer to his mouth. “I hear the owner is a real bear about that.”

  *

  Huey ate the oyster and stayed quiet, but his mind went into overdrive. He’d seen this more than once, and he’d dubbed it the Chili fog. That Sam was smitten made his stomach turn to stone. She wasn’t fooling him. This much curiosity would lead to the quest to satisfy it, and if Chili laid a hand on Sam, he’d kill her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asked when their waiter delivered the crème brûlée he’d no longer wanted to order, much less eat, but that had been the fifth time Sam had asked him the same question.

  “I’m fine. Go ahead and eat before the whipped cream in those strawberries melts.” Sam had changed the subject and hadn’t mentioned Chili again, but she was smart enough to read his mood. Whatever else she wanted to know about Chili and whatever she was going to do with that knowledge was something she’d keep to herself. His reaction had cut him out of her loop.

 

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