Page 2 of Where There's Smoke

Roger inclined his head. “That’s where you come in.”

“Whoa, whoa.” I put up my hands. “I’m a campaign manager, not a fucking miracle worker.” I withdrew a cigarette from the pack. Just before I put it between my lips, I added, “I mean, what exactly makes you think he’s remotely qualified to run, let alone win?”

“The kid is smarter than you think.” A fond grin pulled at his lips. “You do know he’s a Harvard Law grad, don’t you?”

Cupping my hand around my lighter and cigarette, I raised an eyebrow, and then lowered the lighter from my unlit cigarette. “I’m also aware of how easy it is for someone who comes from influence and affluence to skate through with passing grades.” I brought the lighter up again. “The gentleman’s C, I believe they call it?”

Roger’s grin faded, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “He graduated fourth in his class.”

For a second time, I lowered the lighter before I’d lit the cigarette. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. And I’ve been grooming that boy for a political career for years. Just kept him under the radar since I had hoped to have more time, but then Casey announced he was running.” He shifted, resting his elbow on the table. “Jesse’s more than ready for the job. We—and by that I mean you—just need to convince the voters of that.”

I took the still unlit cigarette from between my lips. “Oh, sure,that’seasy.” I tried not to roll my eyes and almost succeeded. “The primaries are a few months away, and you want me to persuade the public they should vote for Fuckup McHollywood, who also happens to be a political nobody, just because he has a name and a law degree?” I shook my head and put the cigarette in my mouth again. “Even a prestigious law degree and name association with you won’t make up for what the public does and doesn’t know about him.” This time I finally managed to light my cigarette and took a long, much-needed drag.

Roger let me smoke for a moment. An ex-smoker himself, he undoubtedly understood the need to get some nicotine into my blood before we went on.

I was halfway through my cigarette when he continued.

“I don’t expect this to be an easy election.” Roger’s voice had a hard, non-negotiable edge to it. “But if anyone can get Jesse elected, it’s you. Unless, of course, you want John Casey to win.”

I turned my head and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the clear, late afternoon air. “I don’t want Casey anywhere near Sacramento, but I need a viable candidate to run against him.”

“Understood.” His nod was so slight, I didn’t have any illusion he was conceding anything more than that simple acknowledgment. “Quite honestly, on his own, thanks to his father’s reputation and his own stint in Hollywood,Jesse barely stands a chance. Short of Casey admitting to a closet full of homosexual skeletons and illegal aliens with links to al Qaeda, Jesse’s chances are slim to none.”

I tapped my cigarette in the red glass ashtray. “Then I’ll ask you again:whyare we having this conversation?”

“Because Jesse still has a better chance than the candidates the party is trying to put on the ballot. Most of them have horrible track records, and the voters know it.”

“Unlike Jesse, who has the next worst thing.” I brought the cigarette to my mouth again. “Which isnotrack record.”

“But”—Roger held up one finger and shot me a deathly serious look—“Jesse is also the most competent candidate. Half of the idiots the party is pushing into the primary aren’t much better than Casey himself. If I thought one of them stood a chance of beating Caseyandpulling off the governorship without the entire state falling apart, I wouldn’t be pushing Jesse to run. Not now. Not until he’s had a chance to cut his teeth in smaller seats.”

“So you want me to run him against the Democrats on the platform that the rest of the Democrats are corrupt morons?” I laughed and smothered my cigarette in the ashtray. As I picked up my wineglass, I said, “I’d like to eat lunch in this town again, thank you.”

“No.” His expression hardened. “Jesse won’t run as a Democrat.”

I froze with my glass halfway to my mouth. “If you want to put my name on a Libertarian’s campaign, so help me—”

“Not Libertarian. He’s running as an Independent.” Roger chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve tried to convince him he stands a better chance on the Democratic ticket, but he wants nothing to do with either party.”

I let my head fall back, and stared up at the sky. There wasn’t enough alcohol or nicotine in the world… “You’re killing me, Roger.” I set the glass down and looked at him. “I’m not even kidding.”

“Look, the last thing this state needs is John Casey as its governor. Jesse is a solid candidate. He has a squeaky-clean personal life, and—”

“Squeaky-clean?” I snorted. “I seem to recall some not so clean indiscretions when he was younger.”

“Well, he’s a son of Hollywood.” Roger grinned. “Would you expect any less?”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to the voters.” I pulled out another cigarette and set it between my lips. “At this point, the only thing about him that’ll say ‘politician’ to voters is that trophy wife of his.”

Roger laughed but then turned serious. “Listen, he’s got a tidier past than even the cleanest congressman. The fact that he’s my nephew will gain him Democratic voters. The fact that he refuses to run on a Democratic ticket will gain him Republican votes.”

“Uh-huh.” I eyed him through the breath of smoke I released. “And he’ll lose support from voters on both sides who will only vote for their parties’ tickets, andthatgroup is even bigger than the clump of idiots you’re asking me to bank on.”

Roger started to speak, but the sliding glass door opened and Janet, his wife, stepped out onto the veranda. We both stood, and he kissed her cheek. Then she sat, and we took our seats again.

“Good to see you, Janet,” I said.

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