Page 3 of Where There's Smoke

“You too.” She smiled, and at least she was one Cameron whose smile didn’t come across as fake. Probably a result of marrying into the clan rather than being bred into it. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have had Marguerite make something different so you can stay for dinner. But…” She gave an apologetic shrug. “She’d already planned on making steak.”

I resisted the urge to grimace. “That’s all right. I can’t stay very late anyway.” Shifting my attention back to her husband, I said, “Especially since it sounds like I’m going to have my work cut out for me for a while if I agree to this.”

“If anyone can run this campaign,” Roger said, “it’s you. I have complete faith in you.”

“As do I,” I muttered. “It’s my lack of faith in the candidate that concerns me.”

“Well, unless you want Casey wearing the title of governor, Anthony, do what you have to do to get Jesse into office.” His tone was sharp again. “Convince the voters that Jesse is a good, solid leader. Show them how incompetent Casey is.” He waved a hand. “They all want to believe Casey’s a saint because of his military record, but they need to know the last thing California needs is someone as fiscally retarded—”

“Roger.” Janet shot him a pointed look.

He shrugged. “All right, someone as incapable as Casey of managing even his own checkbook.”

His wife scowled. I just gritted my teeth. Sometimes I wished Roger wasn’t comfortable enough with me to drop the flawless gentleman front he presented in public. That side of him was fake but decidedly less irritating.

“Look,” I said. “I need to talk to Jesse. Feel him out. Figure out if he knows what the hell he’s doing. How do I get in touch with him?”

“SoCal Tonightis interviewing Jesse at his home tomorrow afternoon.” Roger withdrew a card from his wallet and slid it across the table. “Here’s his address. I’ll let him know you’ll be there to talk to him after the interview’s over.”

“What? You’ve already got interviews lined up for him? Before you brought me into this?” Just what I needed: this idiot screwing up his campaign on television before I had a chance to tell him how not to shoot himself in the foot. Or put that foot in his mouth.

Roger chuckled and put his hands up. “I won’t jump the chain of command again, son. I promise.”

I wasn’t amused. I picked up the card and forced myself not to scowl at the Malibu address. Getting a spoiled rich kid elected? Oh, this would be so much fun. As I tucked the card under my lighter so the wind wouldn’t pick it up, I said, “What’s the interview about?”

“He’s the first Cameron in four generations to make it to his fifth wedding anniversary without some sort of sensationalized scandal.” Roger grinned. “So whenSoCalagreed to interview him about his and Simone’s marriage, we decided this would be a fine time for him to get his candidacy on the public’s radar.”

I rested my elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Roger. Jesus.” I dropped my hand to the table hard enough to rattle both my lighter and our glasses. “I’m not kidding. You want me to run this campaign, I need to know every move he makes before he makes it, especially if that move is going to be in front of television cameras.”

He smiled, completely unfettered. “Well. The interview won’t air for another three weeks. The same daySoCal’s magazine hits newsstands with my nephew and his wife smiling on the cover.”

I groaned.

“Listen, Anthony.” Roger sat back and folded his hands across his lap. “The Cameron family is notorious for marriages that spend more time in the tabloids than not. This article and television interview will be the first hint to the public that Jesse is nothing like his parents or his siblings or his grandparents.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Or his uncle?”

Janet giggled. At least she had a sense of humor about being the fourth Mrs. Roger Cameron.

Her husband laughed dryly but gave a slight nod. “Or his uncle. Look, Jesse won’t be addressing political subjects in this interview. He’ll announce his intent to run and defer any questions to a press conference.”

I cringed. “You’ve already scheduled the press conference, haven’t you?”

He nodded.

“The day the magazine drops and the interview airs, isn’t it?”

Another nod.

I blew out a breath. Well, at least that gave me some time to make sure Jesse kept his foot out of his mouth. “All right, Roger. I’ll go meet him before the interview, and I’m tentatively agreeing to run his campaign.”

“Tentatively?” The frown said he was anything but happy with that answer.

“You and he have already jumped the gun and put him in the public eye. I’ll run a campaign, but I will not resurrect one that’s already been irreparably screwed. And I need to feel him out to make sure he knows what he’s gettinginto, he’s ready for this, and he stands a Liberal’s chance in Utah of winning this thing before I agree to put in the time and energy it takes to get a new face into a political office.”

He regarded me silently for a long moment. Then he nodded once and extended his hand across the table. “Sounds like a plan, son.”

I stood, reached past my cigarettes and drink, and shook his hand.

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