Chapter 8
Money and Media Success
“Grace gains in polls against Jimmy Mack, but so does her major opponent, Peter John Douglas, aka the Rock—as in as solid as a boulder. And that’s holding true so far in this contest…” The anchor for the five o’clock news carried on in the animated way they did to make news entertaining. As if life really was a B-movie, Madeline thought, walking into the front room of their suite. The outer office was for Jon, Sarah and Valerie. With Clever Dennis in here too, it was getting downright cozy.
Sarah hung up her phone with a soft click and looked at Madeline. Mad waited, expecting some pretty good news, knowing full well Sarah would be her usual stoic self, but for effect this time.
“Well?” Madeline decided to prompt her, even knowing it may slow her down. So she was surprised at the wide grin Sarah showed.
“My uncle is in. He’s having a dinner and can guarantee the maximum based on the clip I sent him. Said the entertainment value alone for him and his friends would be worth the bet. Don’t get upset if it seems more like a sport for him—because it is—but who cares. We’ve got $500,000 for starters from out-of-staters without breaking any of your rules.” When Sarah stood, Madeline couldn’t help herself and hugged her friend.
“I knew you could do it. It was a tall order, but I knew you could do it! Where else have you sent the clip?” Madeline asked.
“It’s posted to YouTube and I sent it to the three other news stations in town, and to the networks, with some press releases and background spin including a number of your op-eds. Oh yes, and several glossy photos, including that one.” Sarah pointed to the one posted on the wall where she looked like Grace Kelly at the mayor’s party. She frowned first, and then laughed.
“Keep it down on the glitz, will ya? Remember the glamour-looks angle can go either way on us. We’ll need to have credibility when the PJD romance story hits. We want national attention, but the right kind of national attention. It’s not about some prom queen dating the football hero and all she has to do is stand at his side and smile. That’s what they’ll try to turn it into,” Madeline reminded her.
“And what’s your response when they do? No, it doesn’t matter. First time you open your mouth they’ll know who has the brains between the two of you,” Sarah said. Madeline smiled at the well-meaning comment. Sarah frowned in return.
“Come on now, Sarah. We both know very well that Peter can hold his own. It’s not like he’s one of the other candidates. We have to stick with the plan. Mad Madeline—the outsider—coming in on her white horse to save people from the well-oiled machinery of the political establishment. Like Joan of Arc. That idea is courtesy of Clever Dennis.”
“Figures.” Sarah half grunted, half laughed.
Madeline felt lighthearted. It was like they were back at grad school with the world at their feet. And why shouldn’t she feel that way? It was that way. They had just scored big. They had just caught a big giant ball, and they were running with it. She was going for high impact. But the right impact.
She paced in a circle this time, glancing at the fax machine as it hummed, and absentmindedly unwrapped a chocolate, popping it in her mouth. She needed to think carefully about what the impact would be when the PJD romance story hit.
Madeline checked her watch. There was an hour to get ready for the Lions Club event. The statewide banquet was being held to honor their top do-gooder of the year. Peter was going to be there too. She wasn’t scheduled to make a speech. He was. Sarah got her the invitation at the last minute to this ultimate good-old-boys club. She sighed and thought she couldn’t blame them. They had their agenda, and her political campaign wasn’t part of it. She picked up the remote and clicked the scoreboard on to see the latest numbers.
“Close enough,” Madeline told Sarah. Sarah stood in the door to their inner office and inspected the scoreboard, drawing along a crowd of workers from the downtown office. Apparently word had gotten out, and this was something that had to be seen to be believed. When her wireless beeped, Madeline barely noticed it. Valerie nudged her. She clicked it on automatically, not expecting to require privacy. It was Peter.
“The other shoe has finally dropped. I wanted to warn you. The full-court press will be there tonight at the Lions banquet and my sources say the story will break on tonight’s ten o’clock news.” His words were quick and he sounded intense. This was his special ops persona.
“Tell me what story you are talking about.” Madeline looked up when the room, which was abuzz with excitement a second ago, became still and quiet. She waved at them to continue talking and ignore her.
“The one about our being engaged six years ago, but with a twist. The special angle is about whether or not we are currently having an affair. That’s going to be the big story now. Mainly because of our dance at the mayor’s party.” He paused a beat. “Not to mention the photograph that went national.”
He stopped talking, but she couldn’t respond; her mind’s speech center seemed to be frozen for the moment.
“I’m sorry, Mad. It’s the kind of bone they’re not going to let go of,” he said. She released the breath she was holding. She turned to the window away from everyone. She had to say something.
“No need for you to be sorry. We both knew this could happen. It doesn’t surprise me in the least. Not that I have any magic formula for stemming the tide on the flood of stories.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But there’s some validity to the question. So what’s our answer?”
“What? Don’t do this, Peter. There is no current affair. There is nothing even remotely close. Do you hear me?” Her voice was tight and her gut twisted. She knew she sounded harsh, and she forced herself to take several deep breaths. She’d better make sure she was right or she’d never be able to convince the press.
“I get the message. I was only confirming. Are you all right, Mad?” His voice was soft, even concerned. He knew this level of anxiety was uncharacteristic of her, but she was calm now.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry. Besides, this angle about our personal lives is too personal. There should be a line drawn in the sand here somewhere.” She felt a surge of resentment. “That’s the best angle.”
“Good luck with it.”
“By the way, we are still friends, Peter.”
“I know.”
“I needed to confirm that. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Yeah, and one more thing. Our break-up was mutual—careers taking us in different directions, taking first priority,” he said.
She sighed. “I can live with that.”
“Yeah? I’m still having a hard time with it.” His voice was light despite his words.
She smiled into the phone. “It’s that ego of yours—you won’t rest until I swoon at your feet, will you?”
“Unlikely.”
She laughed this time and they said their good-byes. She clicked off the wireless and slipped it in the holster on her belt, slowly turning. Taking a deep breath, she felt not much different than a gunslinger from the old west getting ready for a shoot out at the O.K. Corral. She turned and faced the people in her office and realized this part would be almost as difficult as facing the press later at the Lions Club banquet. She’d put their campaign in serious jeopardy due to her personal life. She was practical enough to realize that the campaign was not hers alone. Especially where Sarah was concerned. It would have made all the difference if Sarah were behind her, if she was more the supportive type rather than the strategist. This was no time to get wistful, she thought, as she smiled wistfully at them all.
They looked at her expectantly.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked bluntly.
“That was a heads up from PJD. Tonight’s affair is going to be more complicated than we thought. Heck, that’s an understatement. The entire rest of the campaign is going to be more complicated than we hoped. I wish I could say it was entirely unanticipated.” Madeline looked at Sarah and nodded in the affirm
ative at her friend’s unspoken question.
“Shit!” The word from Sarah split the air like a thunderbolt, warning everyone more than anything Madeline could say that they weren’t going to like the coming storm. It was going to be a bad one. She faced the group and forced herself to stand still.
“Here’s the situation. Rick Racer confirmed with the media that I was involved with—engaged to—Peter John Douglas six years ago. They’ve been sitting on the story because they want to catch us doing something they can sell as us rekindling our relationship. The full press will be at the Lions Club banquet tonight and they will break the story there.” She would have continued except for the collective gasp.
Clever Dennis walked in at that moment. Everyone turned in unison. He looked behind him to see what they were all staring at. He looked perplexed, but his expression changed quickly when the stormy mood in the room enveloped him.
“Shit?”
“Exactly.” Sarah folded her arms in front of her and apparently was not going to embellish on her response. Madeline stifled her sigh as she surveyed the room and decided she owed them a big-time pep talk.
But that would have to wait. She looked Dennis in the eye and shook her head.
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. They found out about your past romance with Peter the Rock—turns out he’s got a heart—and now they’re going to spring it on you at tonight’s event. But, never fear, lover-boy tipped you off to give you a fighting chance not to look like a complete fool. Am I close?” Dennis looked smug as he stood with his hands folded across his slick monotone shirt and tie.
“Almost right on. I always did call you clever.” She kept her eyes on Dennis. “With one small twist. They’re insisting the affair is on again now. St. Cyr will be leading the charge at tonight’s banquet.”
“Then we should expect a three-ring circus,” he said. She thought no one was going to invite her to anything anymore unless they wanted a lot of crazy publicity. Maybe she deserved the tag mad woman. She was definitely going to be attracting more of the fringe groups if she didn’t watch it. She took a deep breath in the silence.
“The bone that the media dogs are going to be hanging onto is that the affair has been rekindled. It hasn’t. We have to be just as determined on our side of this tug-of-war. Our story is that six years ago PJD and I had a very short-lived engagement. We departed on amicable terms—friends—our careers and ambitions took up all our time and energy and took us in different directions.” She resisted further explanation and spread her hands in apology to signal the end of her discourse. She knew it was much too brief, but it couldn’t be helped. She had to take control of the issue of her personal life. It seemed like her against the media now as much as her opponent. Mad, old girl, you’re starting to deserve the tag.
Then Dennis took over. “People, don’t worry. It’s a monkey wrench—but on the upside, it gives us oodles of opportunity for publicity. Our job is to control it, spin it to benefit the campaign. We turn it into a serious and committed woman making a choice to pursue her ambition and use her genius and talent, putting aside her personal life for a time. No one is going to seriously believe the idea of a current affair—but for the media this is one tasty bone because they believe their readers will love the sordid speculation about the possibility of romance—or better yet just plain sex—between two political opponents. They will be relentless about that angle. We will have to be absolutely vigilant and blunt and just as dogged as they are. Use everything you have, all your talent to spin. Spin in any and all other directions.” Dennis had everyone nodding their heads and thinking like campaigners again as he turned to Madeline. “Do we have cooperation from Mr. Rock on this? He’s not going to foil us is he?”
Madeline saw the anxiety in Sarah’s face, plain and unhidden. Even if she reassured everyone, Sarah was going to be paranoid about that point from here on in, even more so than before. So be it.
“Peter confirmed our story, which happens to be the truth. Our romantic relationship is absolutely in the past. And he will not attempt to undermine us on that.” She paused and looked down. Then, with a grim line to her mouth that was becoming all too familiar, she continued. “However, the press’s angle to uncover some simmering romance between us is not harmful to Peter’s campaign. It would play perfectly into his plans to have me as lieutenant governor, second fiddle, woman behind the man. So there’s always the possibility that his camp will play to the media’s hype to some extent. Especially Rick Racer.” She looked at Sarah.
“I’ll handle Rick.” Sarah nodded, looking like she’d just accepted mission impossible and expected to fight to her death, like the trooper she’d come to know.
Dennis clapped his hands together once like a pair of cymbals and dispersed the group into action.
“Dennis should come to the event to help buffer you,” Sarah said.
“Of course, but this is the beginning of the issue that I most feared about your campaign, Mad Madeline. You are a beautiful young single woman in the limelight, and there will be no end to the media and public speculation about your romantic life because it’s too much fun—much more entertaining than any political issue you can drum up. I’ll go and buffer you from the press and PJD, but then who knows, while they’re on the romance theme, the media may start speculating about a romance with me too.” He wiggled his brows suggestively at the two women. Sarah shook her head dismissively, but Madeline knew better.
“You know it’s not as absurd as it sounds,” Dennis said. “The media has become expert at pandering to the appetite for the outrageous. The tabloids are no longer distinguishable from the mainstream press at times.”
“Unfortunately I get your point. But there’s no way to stop them if they want to speculate that you’re there as my ‘date.’ If we squash their romance story between PJD and me, they’ll want to replace it with another.” Madeline paced as she considered the implications. “Then next thing you know they’ll be speculating a romance with Sarah to replace the squashed romance story with Clever.”
“Exactly! The public will not accept that you are not a woman romantically involved with someone.” Dennis was excited by their analysis, and she was horrified as the scenario unfolded in her mind. “Maybe it is time to throw them a new bone to take them off the scent,” Dennis added.
“Only as long as the bones we throw have nothing to do with romance.” She felt like a schoolmarm.
“At least if they go for the candidate romancing her press secretary story angle we can deny it with confidence because it isn’t true.” Sarah’s pointed tone was not lost on Madeline. Sarah stood with her hands planted on her hips, confident and ready for Madeline to challenge her. But since Madeline agreed with her, she left the implication hanging in the air; the notion that it might be true that she was having an affair with her opponent hung between the three of them, tightening the tension not quite to the breaking point. At least not yet, Madeline thought.
Dennis nodded. “I’ll meet you at the taxi stand out front in ten minutes. We’ll figure it out.” He gave Madeline a salute and began to shrug out of his jacket while walking toward the door on the other side of the office. Then he abruptly stopped and turned.
“By the way, is it true? Are you having an affair with PJD?” Dennis gave her a steely look for what seemed like an eternity. But she wasn’t about to explain the nature of her relationship with Peter to anyone. Everyone, Clever Dennis included, was on a need-to-know basis only. And no one needed to know. Not even her.
Madeline remained silent and stared back at him. The clicking of keyboards in the office seemed loud. He got the message that she thought it was none of his business. He stepped out of the room.
Madeline turned and strode into her private room. It was time to put on her costume for the night. Of course, due to the abrupt role change to schoolmarm, she’d have to make a last-minute wardrobe change. She had no trouble picking out a sedate navy evening suit that dripped Puritan elegance—not a spark
of romance. Had the suit been made of wool instead of shantung silk it would have been perfect for a funeral. Sarah nodded in approval and then styled her hair into the customary French twist in less than a minute. It was becoming a nightly ritual, and the campaign hadn’t even reached full swing yet. Madeline popped a chocolate truffle ball in her mouth.
“I’m coming tonight too,” Sarah said in a matter-of-fact way. Madeline wasn’t about to argue. She hoped Sarah’s presence might help keep the noise down about any personal life whatsoever. The woman was turning into a contender for the chaperone of the century.
Madeline stepped into the office-living room with Sarah right behind her. The troops were all waiting.
“You could always go out the back door,” Jonathan said.
“I’m a political candidate. I can’t hide from the press.”
“You’ll have to face them bravely and brightly,” Valerie said.
“I’ll settle for getting through the night without cowering and whimpering.” Mad moved toward the door, only half-kidding.
Sarah pursed her lips.
Val laughed.
Jon shook his head.
Clever Dennis pushed the door open. “Let’s get going. The fuse is lit and we have ten seconds to get out or we’re charred meat.”
They all looked at him. He appeared sane, Madeline thought, as she followed him through the door with an amused shake of her head.
The Lion’s Den
“I’d rather be used,” Dennis quipped as they rode north on Route 1 to the dense suburbs of Boston. Madeline sat in the back with them and knew she had to come up with a way to handle the public interest in her personal life that was interesting and yet respectful of her personal boundaries. Dennis had been furiously scribbling notes for their statement while trying to look over the information packet they had already put together for the Lions banquet. Sarah sat in front with the taxi driver and gave Dennis a half smile, half frown. Madeline thought she must have been warming up to him.
The Scotland Yard Exchange Series Page 11
