Read Online The Governor's Lady by Robert Inman - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Inman
Tags: Fiction
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hanging around this place for forty-five years, and I’ve seen every sorry-ass excuse for so-called public servants you can imagine. I’m hoping you’ll be different. You have a chance to be. And God knows, this place needs it.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay.” He turned to go, but she stopped him. “Any advice?”
He gave her a piercing look. “First of all, don’t for a moment entertain the idea you’re bulletproof. That happens to people who run for office. It’s an ego thing. Issues, ideas, all that is secondary. You’re saying to voters, ‘Choose me.’ If they don’t, it’s rejection on the most personal level. If they do, the tendency is to think you’re more wonderful than you are, maybe even that you’re bulletproof.”
“I don’t think that, I can assure you.”
“And then, for all your plans of being your own boss, there’s Pickett. His campaign is getting attention, and that makes the big boys, the national press, start digging. And from there, it’s a straight line to here. If you’re a phony running a farce, they’ll have you for lunch.”
“And Pickett, too,” she added.
“If he really means for you to be the governor, he’s taking the risk you’ll do something that embarrasses him. If he tries to be a puppet master, that proves you’re a phony and he’s pulled a fast one.” He cocked his head, waiting.
“I’m not a phony, Mr. Kincaid,” she said quietly. “And I’ll prove it.”
He shrugged. And then he was gone.
Roger bustled in, all atwitter. “What did he want?”
Cooper sat lost in thought, ignoring him.
“Kincaid. What—”
“It was an off-the-record conversation. On both sides.”
“And …”
“Off the record means it’s not to be repeated.”
“But …”
“To anybody.”
He came into the room and stood behind a chair, gripping the leather back so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“You don’t want to be here, do you, Roger?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“You’d rather be with Pickett.”
He started to say something, stopped himself. “We’re all working for the same goal, Cooper. We’re all working for Pickett.”
“We are?”
“Sure. It does Pickett no good if we get blindsided by something Kincaid’s got up his sleeve.”
She rose, smoothing her skirt. “Mr. Kincaid doesn’t have anything up his sleeve, Roger. We had a private, personal conversation.”
She watched Roger make the great effort to gather himself, to swallow for a moment all that made him frustrated and pissed off—the years of accumulated slights and menial jobs and ignominy. That had been his reward for absolute loyalty to Pickett Lanier. And now this. Babysitting. She felt sorry for him.
“It’s okay, Roger, believe me,” she said, summoning patience, keepingher voice gentle. “I appreciate your concern. You’re doing your job. But here’s this: I am not working for Pickett, and you are working for me. Now, send Rick in here.”
She held up the sheaf of press releases. “Rick, where did this stuff come from?”
“Left over from the last crowd.”
“Have a seat.”
Rick sat at the conference table in front of her desk.
“Look,” she said. “From now on, whatever goes out of here to the media, I want to know about it. This is our press office, yours and mine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Let’s not let it happen again.”
He hesitated. “There’s one other thing. Your mother.”
“What about her?”
“I’m getting a lot of questions—her condition—and the hospital isn’t authorized to release anything.”
“Okay, what do we do?”
“Well,” he stammered, “what do you …?”
She leaned toward him and gave him a smile. “Rick, we’re both new at this, but you know more about it than I do. So I depend on you to give me your best advice. I may not always follow it, but I damn sure need it. So?”
“Well, Roger said—”
“Roger is my chief of staff, not my press secretary. I want to know what you
She took a deep breath. “Okay.” He turned to go, but she stopped him. “Any advice?”
He gave her a piercing look. “First of all, don’t for a moment entertain the idea you’re bulletproof. That happens to people who run for office. It’s an ego thing. Issues, ideas, all that is secondary. You’re saying to voters, ‘Choose me.’ If they don’t, it’s rejection on the most personal level. If they do, the tendency is to think you’re more wonderful than you are, maybe even that you’re bulletproof.”
“I don’t think that, I can assure you.”
“And then, for all your plans of being your own boss, there’s Pickett. His campaign is getting attention, and that makes the big boys, the national press, start digging. And from there, it’s a straight line to here. If you’re a phony running a farce, they’ll have you for lunch.”
“And Pickett, too,” she added.
“If he really means for you to be the governor, he’s taking the risk you’ll do something that embarrasses him. If he tries to be a puppet master, that proves you’re a phony and he’s pulled a fast one.” He cocked his head, waiting.
“I’m not a phony, Mr. Kincaid,” she said quietly. “And I’ll prove it.”
He shrugged. And then he was gone.
Roger bustled in, all atwitter. “What did he want?”
Cooper sat lost in thought, ignoring him.
“Kincaid. What—”
“It was an off-the-record conversation. On both sides.”
“And …”
“Off the record means it’s not to be repeated.”
“But …”
“To anybody.”
He came into the room and stood behind a chair, gripping the leather back so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“You don’t want to be here, do you, Roger?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“You’d rather be with Pickett.”
He started to say something, stopped himself. “We’re all working for the same goal, Cooper. We’re all working for Pickett.”
“We are?”
“Sure. It does Pickett no good if we get blindsided by something Kincaid’s got up his sleeve.”
She rose, smoothing her skirt. “Mr. Kincaid doesn’t have anything up his sleeve, Roger. We had a private, personal conversation.”
She watched Roger make the great effort to gather himself, to swallow for a moment all that made him frustrated and pissed off—the years of accumulated slights and menial jobs and ignominy. That had been his reward for absolute loyalty to Pickett Lanier. And now this. Babysitting. She felt sorry for him.
“It’s okay, Roger, believe me,” she said, summoning patience, keepingher voice gentle. “I appreciate your concern. You’re doing your job. But here’s this: I am not working for Pickett, and you are working for me. Now, send Rick in here.”
She held up the sheaf of press releases. “Rick, where did this stuff come from?”
“Left over from the last crowd.”
“Have a seat.”
Rick sat at the conference table in front of her desk.
“Look,” she said. “From now on, whatever goes out of here to the media, I want to know about it. This is our press office, yours and mine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Let’s not let it happen again.”
He hesitated. “There’s one other thing. Your mother.”
“What about her?”
“I’m getting a lot of questions—her condition—and the hospital isn’t authorized to release anything.”
“Okay, what do we do?”
“Well,” he stammered, “what do you …?”
She leaned toward him and gave him a smile. “Rick, we’re both new at this, but you know more about it than I do. So I depend on you to give me your best advice. I may not always follow it, but I damn sure need it. So?”
“Well, Roger said—”
“Roger is my chief of staff, not my press secretary. I want to know what you
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