Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Oh. Well, as apologies go, I accept.”
The door opens, and Alice, the producer, pops her head in. “We’re ready for you, Mr. Cade.”
I nod, give my reflection one last check, and follow her.
* * *
“We’re joined tonight on Beltway by the man everyone’s talking about,” Bryce Collins says. “Please welcome Maxim Cade.”
When the polite applause dies down, I can almost feel the crowd’s curiosity poking and probing at me.
“First, I’d like to offer my condolences for the loss of your brother, Senator Owen Cade,” Bryce says soberly and, from what I can ascertain, sincerely. “Truly a fine man. I was honored to have met him.”
“Thank you,” I say, bracing myself for the flurry of questions I know will follow the sympathy.
“A few weeks ago, you announced your candidacy for president. How’s that going?”
“Uh, up until a few days ago, swimmingly.”
The audience laughs, and I offer a self-deprecating smile.
“Right,” Bryce says, smiling, too. “Recent reports indicate there may have been some sexual misconduct between you and your campaign manager, Lennix Hunter. Is there any truth to that claim?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Okay, you’re not under oath here,” Bryce says wryly. “So you can’t perjure yourself or anything, but there is quite a bit of surveillance footage of you coming and going from Ms. Hunter’s apartment. Would you care to address that?”
“You asked if there was truth to the accusation of sexual misconduct. I unequivocally deny that there was any misconduct.”
“So Lennix Hunter is not your mistress?”
“My mistress?” I release a disbelieving laugh. “Is this Victorian England? Is Ms. Hunter being kept in a townhouse in Mayfair? That’s a very backward way of discussing a consensual relationship between two adults. Maybe I’m her mister.”
There are a few chuckles from the audience, and some women clap. I may have even detected one “amen.”
“So you admit there is a romantic relationship between you and Lennix Hunter.”
“Yes, there is.”
A gasp travels through the crowd, and the silence that follows hints they’re waiting for me to elaborate.
“Could you tell us how it started?” Bryce asks, his eyes gleaming with excitement for the illicit details. “Was it on the campaign trail?”
“No, long before that.”
“You knew Ms. Hunter before?”
“I met Lennix when she was seventeen years old. I was twenty-four, but nothing happened, so please don’t come at me about being a dirty old man.”
Some of the nervous tension breaks, and most of the crowd laughs again.
“We met at a demonstration.” I chuckle. “Ironically, she was protesting one of my father’s projects. A Cade Energy pipeline that would go through ground her tribe considered sacred and that had been protected.”
“At seventeen?”
“Yes. She was speaking, actually.”
“And your first impression of her was what?”
“I heard her before I saw her. I’d never heard conviction like that from anyone so young. Not even at my age. I was twenty-four at the time, so seven years older, and, as noted, nothing romantic happened between us.”
I pause and rub the back of my neck. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I think that was the day I started falling in love with her.”
“What happened at the protest?”
“We actually got arrested.”
“You got arrested for protesting your own father’s pipeline?” Bryce asks, delighted.
“He was not too happy about it,” I reply dryly. “But that’s where Lennix and I first met.”
“There’s a well-documented history of antagonism between your father and Lennix Hunter. Is it difficult managing that tension?”
“Sometimes, but listen. This nation has a painful, problematic past with its treatment of Native Americans. Someone like Lennix can’t even hold a twenty-dollar bill without seeing Andrew Jackson. They buy their groceries with money celebrating the man who caused them arguably the most pain.”
“I’d never thought of it like that.”
“You and I don’t have to. When people speak out about a past as painful as theirs, as long as they’re not breaking the law, you don’t get to tell them how to do it. So it’s not awkward for me that Lennix objects to some of my father’s business practices. So do I. That doesn’t mean I don’t love him or want a relationship with him. It means we don’t agree. I won’t tell Lennix not to voice her outrage on these matters. My role should be to listen.”
“Are you concerned at all about the potential complications of running for president and dating someone like Ms. Hunter?”
“Excuse me?” A muscle in my jaw ticks. My teeth grind together. “You should define what you mean by ‘someone like Ms. Hunter.’”
“Yes, well.” He clears his throat. “Someone who has been so vocal protesting for a particular people group.”
“Her people, you mean. Native Americans.”
“Yes, but if you’re president, it will be of the United States, all of them, all the people. Does it complicate things that in the interest of her people, Ms. Hunter has espoused views about our forefathers that some consider unpatriotic or un-American?”