Candidate: A Love Story (5 page)

Kate held back a laugh as he sat down. Long legs out in front and hands resting over his head. Crazy relaxed, and so comfortable in his skin. It was great skin, and his ease was enviable. He wasn’t caving to her usual badass voice.
What did he call her?

“Frigid?” Kate asked breathing deep. “Did you just call me frigid?”

“Sure did. You give off this angry-at-the-world vibe that seems, well ridiculous. Look, I get that I shouldn’t have done what I did last night. Drinking and I don’t always make the best impression, but I’m not a jerk. It was a mistake. A ‘poor reaction to a difficult situation,’ as my father would say.” Grady mimicked the headshake and even the voice of the senator. “I see that it makes your job harder and I’ll lay low. It’s just that sometimes I get . . . ”

“Oh, please. Please don’t tell me the pressure of being a senator’s son is so hard and you just act out—”

“See there it is again, frigid.”

Kate glared, stood, and reached for her purse off the table.

Grady put his hand over hers. “Hey, if you’re going to babysit, I mean represent me, shouldn’t you at least be on my side? Give me a chance to sell you on what a great guy I am apart from the wonderful impression you clearly have of me?” This time he didn’t smile, he just looked straight at her.

Maybe he was right; maybe Mark had a point too. She was frigid, in fact it could be said that Kate was in a man-hating mood lately. But this was her job. She needed to make him look good and protect the image for the senator. Oh God, she was becoming that woman, crazy box-living frigid lady. Next she would start only wearing sensible shoes, even to work, and posting nasty comments about the objectification of women in the pages of
People
magazine.
Shit.
Maybe she
was
taking out her issues . . .
issues
—God, how she hated that word. She was divorced, it wasn’t an ailment. She needed to get a grip.
Pull it together.

“You’re right. I will not apologize, because you’re far too smug, but I do need to know you and help portray you in as positive a light as possible. Right now, after your little equestrian stunt, I’m finding that . . . difficult.”

Grady smiled and it climbed right to his eyes. Taking his hand back, he gestured for her to sit.

They ordered dinner and discussed how Kate’s firm was going to spin the latest incident. She learned that Grady had just broken up with some super model he’d dated for a few weeks. They would portray him as a heartbroken fool falling back on bad habits. Everyone loves to see the rich rejected and miserable. It would work. In exchange for Kate’s help, Grady agreed to keep close to home for a little while. She suggested he read, but he smiled and said, “Now why would a guy like me bother reading? Does
Maxim
count?”

Kate was beginning to see that Grady was a bit of a contradiction. Sure, what she was able to dig up so far showed the craziness of his youth, but he was also extremely well-educated and surprisingly together for a guy that the public thought of as nothing more than a handsome buffoon. She’d just scratched the surface on his background, but at first glance, there was nothing that scandalous. Stupid was all over his history, but she could handle stupid. They needed to focus on the things that gave Grady Thomas Malendar depth. Hopefully it was in there somewhere, and most of the world just never saw it. Kate decided to work on moving away from frigid and closer to hopeful. He listened closely this time as she laid out the plan for the next few months.

“Javier is in charge of blogging and your father’s internet presence. He’s working with the senator’s staff to ensure we can control anything that pops up on the web and also be sure we don’t miss any opportunities or buzz words for his opponent. Believe me, we have it on all fronts.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

Kate was a little thrown by the question, not knowing if he was making a personal inquiry or if he wanted her resume. “I started at the bottom of a firm in New York, working phones and getting coffee while I was still in college. Once I graduated, we moved here and I started at Bracknell. I was promoted to junior associate shortly after, and I’ve been a full associate for just over two years.” She paused, not sure if she had answered what he was asking. “How long have I been handling this type of exposure?”

Grady nodded.

“About three years.”

“We?” Grady asked taking a sip of water.

“I was married,” Kate said and added nothing else, hoping she was clear that she didn’t want to discuss her personal life.

“Ever have anything worse than containing a spoiled ass?” Grady asked, obviously getting the message.

“Yes.”

“That was a joke.”

“I know.”

“Wow. Do you handle your own PR or does someone else take care of that for you?” He said and then sat back smiling at her.

Kate took a deep breath. She felt better, a bit of weight lifted. She could handle this project. He was funny, she would give him that. It was probably pretty easy to be funny when everything was handed to you.

Chapter Six

K
ate married Nick Galloway because he had great shoulders, warm eyes, and a fearlessness that tempted her cautious nature. They both liked to read the paper on Sunday morning and the sex was intense, passionate. They were great together. Well, he was great and she was great at making him feel like there was nothing he couldn’t do. Kind of like a cheerleader. Christ, she’d never liked cheerleaders.

Curled in the leather chair of the conference room, Kate was reviewing proofs for the Carousel of Hope Ball menu and press kit. The Children’s Diabetes Foundation used Bracknell and Stevens for the ball they held every two years. They used them for some of their daily marketing materials too, but the ball was a huge event that had taken almost a year to plan. All monies raised from tickets and the auction went to the foundation. It was an important night and Kate was always so proud to play a small part. It was a little awkward now because her ex-husband would be there. Type 1 diabetes deeply touched his family, and both of his nieces were affected. It was a cause very close to his heart. She knew Nick wouldn’t miss it. It became a little less awkward once Kate reminded herself that the Children’s Diabetes Foundation worked tirelessly researching and caring for children dealing with a disease far beyond the coloring books and video games that occupied the minds of most of their friends. They were a wonderful organization. The least Kate could do was stop worrying about her stupid ex-husband, and make sure the foundation pulled off another spectacular event.

Mark was at his wits end with a certain political campaign client and needed a Saturday off. Kate told him she would take care of the rest of the paperwork for the ball. The proofs were due to the printer yesterday, but Kate spoke with them and assured the woman she would have everything emailed back by two o’clock. She had just finished proofing the menu, and made a few corrections, most notably that dessert was missing an “s,” making it sand, and not a delicious Key lime torte. Kate leaned back in the chair, adjusted her feet, and sipped her coffee. She held up the cover of the menu that mirrored all of the print work for the ball. It was the silhouette of a child’s face, rounded cheeks and rosebud lips. Within the silhouette there were other outlines of children, all different ages. It was meant to show the cycle of a child growing up, often with something they carried since they were born. The outlines were sketch-type and the colors were bright but muted, so it didn’t come off as too much. Kate liked it, but made some adjustments to the wording and noted that part of the image was cut off at the fold of the menu. That would need to be adjusted.

The Carousel of Hope Ball was a couple of months away. Mark informed her that she would be working this year, introducing Senator Malendar, who would be one of the keynote speakers. According to Mark, the senator would be discussing the climate for children within the current healthcare system, and policies he would like to see implemented if re-elected. Kate had opened up an email and was about to send some questions about the title font to the printer when her phone vibrated. She looked at the screen and took a very deep breath before answering.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, sweetheart. I was thinking we could all have dinner tonight after Chloe’s spring performance.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but I won’t be there tonight. I already spoke with Ethan and Faith. Senator Malendar has a political fundraiser tonight and I need to be there. I can’t get out of it.”

The line was silent. Kate knew it would be.

“She’s going to be a sunflower. Your niece, she will be dressed up like a sunflower and singing
You Are My Sunshine
. You’re going to miss that for some chicken-on-the-plate fundraiser? Oh, Katie, come on.”

Kate let out another deep breath. The guilt trip was in full force. “I know, and Eth said they would record it. I’ll be at your house next week for Easter. I can watch it then. I sent flowers to the school, sunflowers even.”

“Well, that’s nice, but it’s not the same as having her only auntie there for her first spring show. This job, I mean it’s one thing when you’re working with our community, but this new project seems . . . distracting. I mean your father says this kid, this guy you’re representing is kind of a shyster.”

Kate rolled her eyes and took out the banana and package of Toaster Strudel she’d brought for lunch.

“Mom, Dad says everyone’s a shyster. Anyway, the job is the same. This is a pretty all-encompassing client, but nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Kate added peeling her banana.

“Well, if you say so. I’m just saying that your ‘encompassing client’ seems like he’s taking up quite a bit of your time.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“It’s Saturday. Where are you?”

“At work.”

“See, it’s not good for a single divorced woman to be working so much, at work on Saturday. It’s just not right.”

Jesus Christ!
“Mom, this client has nothing to do with me being here on Saturday. In fact, I came in to help Mark with the Carousel of Hope Ball press kit. I actually just finished reviewing the menu. Looks like it’s going to be a great night. Did you and Dad donate anything to the auction this year?” Kate tried to change the subject.

“Really? Well, that’s a good use of your time, not on a Saturday, but much better than watching after that . . . that . . . philanderer. You need to watch yourself, Katie. You’re not living with Nick anymore and a single woman has to be careful.”

“Is that so? And what exactly would you know about being a single woman?” Kate spit back and regretted it as soon as the last word left her mouth.

Her mother said nothing.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m sorry, Mom.”

Still no response.

“Listen, I’m just tired. Maybe you’re right; I shouldn’t be here on a Saturday. I’m just going to finish up and head home. Maybe I’ll take a nap before—”

“A week at Huntington Lake.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s what we donated for the silent auction. A week at that cabin place at Huntington.” Kate recognized that her mother was pissy, but was moving on. She was certain the ‘you know nothing about being single’ comment would come up again; when she least expected it her mother would swing back. Save for later and then sneak attack. That’s just how she was. Kate tried to appease for now.

“Oh, right. Well that was very generous of you both. I’m sure someone will love that.”

“And it’s going to such a wonderful cause. Those babies, and their families. Your Nick’s little nieces, remember them, so precious.”

“Mom, he’s no longer my Nick, and of course I remember Sasha and Mellie. It is a wonderful cause. The menus are lovely. Key lime torte for dessert, looks yummy. Listen, I need to get going so I can finish up. Please give Chloe a big kiss from me.” Her mother said nothing. “And Mom, have a great time at the recital.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will. There will be a void, of course, because the whole family isn’t there, but we will manage. Did I tell you Neil is coming after working a double?” Of course, her sainted brother Neil would be there. Kate put her hand on her face and leaned on the table in front of her. Dear God, her mother was a master at the guilt.

“I did hear that. I spoke with him yesterday. That’s great. Okay, well have a wonderful time. I’ll see you next week.”

“Okay. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“Please be safe and remember to fast on Friday. I’m sure I don’t need to mention that you should remain abstinent on that day too, because . . . well, hopefully that’s not an issue for you right now.”

At this, Kate said nothing, but she actually lowered her head to the table and tried to remember if she had Tylenol in her purse, as her mother continued.

“Anyway, please try to squeeze in the celebration of the Lord’s Passion, if you can tear yourself away from your very important job. Good Friday is our most somber day, Katie. I don’t make you kids go anymore, but you should—”

“Remember what Christ gave up for me. Right, got it. Talk with you later, Mom.”

“Bye bye.”

Good Friday service, was she kidding?
Kate hadn’t been to church since . . . she couldn’t remember. She was a heathen in her mother’s eyes, so Kate wasn’t sure why she kept trying. Finishing up her coffee, needing a refill and Toaster Strudel, Kate took her empty cup and her zip lock bag to the kitchen to find the office toaster.