Page 23 of Where There's Smoke

Three weeksinto Jesse’s campaign, I stood between him and Ranya, staring up at a flat-screen television in the back room at the news station. As the weatherman gave his predictions and the sports anchor discussed the latest basketball highlights, Jesse fidgeted beside me. Ranya shifted her weight, her ever-present bracelets jingling whenever she absently played with her hair or pulled out her cell phone to look at the time.

Finally the camera zoomed in on a blonde anchor, and above her shoulder, an inset image read “Election Update.” Jesse pushed out a breath. Ranya’s bracelets jingled again. I chewed a pen and tried not to think about the cigarette I wasn’t smoking.

“Jesse Cameron,” the news anchor said with manufactured interest. “Heir to Hollywood’s Cameron dynasty. Nephew of a prominent senator. Son of late musician Margot Ashwood.” Images of Jesse’s family members flashed across the screen, and the anchor continued speaking as footage appeared of Jesse himself. “He was bred for greatness in the public eye, but after favoring the pursuit of a law degree over trying to further his lackluster acting career, it seemed Jesse Cameron was destined for obscurity, leaving half brothers Nathan and Chris to soak up their inherited limelight.” The image changed to one of Jesse and his A-list half brothers. Then it switched to the famous wedding photo—Jesse and Simone exchanging a tender kiss in front of a white Rolls Royce—that had once graced dozens of magazines. Jesse flinched and looked away.

The anchor continued. “His marriage to once-troubled model and Oscar-winning actress Simone Lancaster cemented rumors that he was content to let that limelight shine on those around him, preferring to remain quietly in the background.” A clip of Jesse and Simone on the red carpet appeared. In the video, her hand was on his elbow, but everyone’s attention and lenses were on her and her vivid purple dress while her husband blended in with every other black tuxedo in the background.

When the anchor spoke again, Jesse shifted his attention back to the screen. “All that speculation changed today in an explosive interview withSoCal Tonight’s Francine Jarvis. Jesse Cameron has revealed his intention to take on a very public role, that of California’s next governor.”

The door opened behind us, and we all turned as a gentleman wearing a headset leaned in. “Mr. Cameron, your uncle’s on in sixty seconds. You’re up in three minutes.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said.

The three of us looked at the screen again as the anchor went on. “Just another celebrity dabbling in politics?” She furrowed her brow in that contemplative way reporters often did. “Or does Jesse Cameron have what it takes to beat GOPfront-runner John Casey and govern the state of California? We now go live to a press conference in Los Angeles.”

“Ready for this?” I asked Jesse.

He nodded. “Ready.”

Ranya smiled and hugged him. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he said as she released him. He straightened his jacket, brushed away some phantom pieces of lint, and took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

Jesse left, and Ranya and I watched the live feed of his press conference going on in the next room.

On the screen, Roger gave his JFK head tilt and smiled. With the slightest of nods, he said, “California, you’ll be in good hands.” He gestured stage left. “Ladies and gentlemen, my nephew, and hopefully the next governor of the state of California, Jesse Cameron.”

The very picture of confidence, not a hint of nerves, Jesse strode out to the podium to join his uncle. They shook hands, smiling and posing for the flashing cameras. Then, as the polite, if uncertain, applause died down, Roger moved aside to let Jesse take the microphone. I held my breath, not sure what I expected. Would nerves suddenly get the best of him? Would he decide to nix the speech we’d gone over a hundred times in the last twenty-four hours?

God, Jesse, do what I told you to. Please, please, do what I told you to.

Jesse drew in a breath, smiled like he was completely at home up there in front of the cameras and reporters, and went into the speech we’d agreed on. I exhaled.

“You sound almost as nervous as he is,” Ranya said, a note of concern mixing with the lighthearted humor.

I gestured at Jesse as he effortlessly delivered the speech. “He doesn’t sound nervous in the slightest.”

“He’s just good at hiding it. He’s good at hiding most things.”

I glanced at her, and something unspoken lurked in her eyes, but I didn’t ask. I turned back to the television as Jesse continued the speech.

“I’m a resident of California just like everyone in this room,” he said at the end of it. “And I think I can speak for all of us when I say that what’s going on in Sacramento needs to change, and it needs to changenow.” He paused to let the statement sink in. “Of course, I anticipate the people of California have questions about why I’m the best candidate for making those changes, which is why we’re all here today. So I’ll take any questions at this time.”

Hands shot up, and with a nod and a gesture, Jesse indicated one of the many reporters.

She stood and adjusted her jacket. “Guadalupe Hernandez, KLJN News. You and your uncle have pointed to your law degree as a qualification for the office of governor, but isn’t it true that you had some, shall we say, less than academic exploits during yourcollege years? Can the people of California truly put their faith in the education you received during that time?”

I pulled in a breath. We’d discussed his past and how to answer this, and I hoped he’d taken my advice to heart.Tread carefully on this one, Jesse.

Jesse smiled—holyfuck, he’s got a gorgeous smile—and rested a hand on the podium. “During my undergrad years, I was a spoiled kid with no experience being anything but the center of attention. That, and…” He shrugged, and one corner of his mouth rose a little higher as he added, “I was a kid. Yes, I screwed around in school.” His expression turned more serious. “Everything you’ve heard about my early college years is true, but after my sophomore year, I got my act together and grew up. By the time I started law school, I assure you, I took my education far, far more seriously.”

I slowly let out my breath.

One after another, reporters grilled him on every topic, from political to personal. Even under the hot lights and hotter scrutiny, Jesse didn’t break a sweat. He stayed calm, cool, and collected, and his answers were smooth and unhesitating. He’d inherited his uncle’s gift for not avoiding the question but also not giving the reporter the satisfaction of letting it get under his skin.

“Damn, he’s good at this,” Ranya said quietly.

“Yeah, he is.” I kept my eyes locked on the screen. Hewasgood at this. Really good.

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