Candidate: A Love Story (19 page)

The report filled the screen. Background, demographics, organizations, things Kate already knew. Some affiliations from college she didn’t know about, tax information and contacts. Criminal background check, nothing. Incidents or altercations, nothing. Possible scandals, fraternity connection during college and possible exposure (i.e., photographs, experimental drugs). Each heading listed resources and additional information links. Kate knew most of it; there was nothing that would help the campaign, and thankfully nothing that would hurt it either. It seemed that on paper Grady Malendar was pretty clean. Most of his mess came from his own doing, surface really, but always shy of real trouble. Kate skimmed the rest of the report, past tax reports, and then she stopped dead, teacup en route to her mouth, when she saw the Businesses/Corporations section. She put her cup down and clicked on the link titled “Roads Foundation.”

“I found large sums of money each year on Mr. Malendar’s tax returns from 2002 to present that appeared on the surface to go nowhere. Looking for possible tax fraud exposure, I did some digging and found the sums are sent to a trust, which is linked in a very clever but entirely legal way, to The Roads Foundation. The Roads Foundation was founded in 2002 and is headed by three prominent LA businessmen, Jason Black, Bryce Saunders, and Eric Dampier. All three went to Stanford with Mr. Malendar and they appear to have remained close friends. Mr. Malendar is not listed on any of the foundation paperwork, board of directors, etc., but it is clear he funds the foundation’s annual budget. I see no exposure issues,” the report said.

The Roads Foundation,
The
Roads Foundation, one of the largest foundations in Los Angeles, hell, California. They were everywhere. There was not a community center, hospital, inner city arts program that didn’t mention the generosity of The Roads Foundation. They spent tens of millions of dollars every year on Los Angeles and the surrounding areas. They never gave to political campaigns, they had no government connections at all. No special interest, no crap. Jason Black, the president, was brilliant and completely innovative. The Roads Foundation was the gold standard around the country. They just finished an entire parent living facility at the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital. The senator was there last week, at the dedication. She remembered because Grady was supposed to be there, but he never. . .
Holy Shit!

Kate needed strudel. She stood up, pulse pounding now, and walked to the kitchen. The cool rush of the freezer calmed her bouncy nerves.
Unbelievable
, she thought, opening the plastic wrapper and popping two frozen blocks into the toaster. She walked back into the living room, mind spinning, replaying the last few weeks, and grabbed her cup. Returning to the kitchen, she made another cup of tea, took a strudel out of the toaster, and sat on the counter. She’d been doing that a lot lately. It was actually a great place to think. Kate scanned her memory, was there anything, any way she could have known? How is it that no one knew? More importantly, why was he hiding?

Halfway through her second strudel, she remembered. Bo, the dog, Grady had said he got him when he was at the construction site. He was meeting a friend for dinner. He had stumbled over his words, he never stumbled. One more time . . .
Holy Shit!
Kate jumped off the counter and dialed Grady’s number.

“Wow, that was quick. Miss me already?” he answered on the second ring.

“I need you to come over.”

“Really?”

“This isn’t a joke. Can you be here soon?”

“I . . . yeah, is something wrong?”

“No, I just need to talk with you and it can’t wait.”

“Okay, I’m fifteen minutes away.”

“Great.” Kate hung up, decided to take the plastic off her new dining room table, and called to order some real food. It was going to be a long night.

The doorbell rang twenty minutes later. She opened the door to Grady holding two bags from Malaysian Mama’s.

“The kid was coming up the walk at the same time. I just saved him a few steps,” he said, walking into her house, glancing at the table with a smile, and bringing the food into the kitchen.

Kate closed the door. “I owe you money, Bag Man. How much?” Kate asked, sitting on one of her still-wrapped dining room chairs.

“Really?” Grady said coming out of the kitchen. “You’re not going to let me pay for the food I’m sure you bought so I wouldn’t have to eat pop-tarts?”

“Toaster Strudel, there’s a big difference.”

He laughed and took a seat next to her. “New table.”

Kate’s face flushed.
Stupid.
She got up and grabbed her teacup, planning on putting the relaxing effects of Chamomile to the test.

“Yeah, I bought it at that place in North Hollywood,” she said, sipping her tea and curling her feet beneath her.

“Mid-Century?”

“Yes, they were great. It’s repurposed. Used to be an old bank door.”

“Really?” Grady ran his hand over the wood and Kate’s face grew warmer. “It’s beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

Kate was still looking at his hand, so when she looked up, their eyes met. “Sorry?”

“The table, why did you buy a table?” Grady asked.

Kate took another sip and decided Chamomile was no match for Grady Malendar.

“To move on?” Grady asked, looking right through her. Soft eyes that were so much more than their color. She was really starting to like what was behind them even more. The way he looked at her.

“I guess. I needed a place to sit.”

“It’s a pretty big table.”

“Yeah, well I have friends that come over and . . .” She was picking at the plastic covering her chair

“Kate.”

She looked up.

“I’m glad you bought a table, really glad to see you’re moving on.”

“Thanks.”

Grady broke eye contact and stood.

“I’m starving, what’s in the bags?”

Kate snapped back. Why were they talking about her table? She needed to talk with him. Why did he always manage to take her off task?

“Fish-ball soup, those sliced chicken things. What are they called?”

“Lor bak?”

“Yes, those, and some curry.”

Grady came in with the bags and paper plates. Kate forgot he knew his way around her kitchen now. She grabbed napkins. The sun was setting. Grady took a candle out of a box he passed, lit it, and put it on the table.

“Nice,” he said taking a seat. Kate opened the containers and pretended not to notice that every time she was near him lately she felt something. Bursts of it really, floods of feeling she held back, kept under control.
Work, Kate, for God
’
s sake. Work!
Right, she had called him over for a reason, but now she didn’t know how to bring it up. It wasn’t a bad thing, in fact it was incredible. What he’d been doing for the last twelve years was noble and so worthy of praise, but he clearly didn’t want it. This was a secret he’d tried very hard to protect. Kate wasn’t sure how he would react to her knowing. She jumped right in.

“So, I had our research department look into you a couple of months ago.”

Grady laughed. “Okay, and did they find out about those three illegitimate children, because I can explain.” He grabbed another piece of chicken and then looked up when Kate was silent.

She was looking at him. “No, but they did find out that you have, well you pretty much are, The Roads Foundation.”

Grady held steady. Perhaps he’d been asked this before? “Um, not sure who your research guy is, but he’s got that wrong. I’m not part of the, what did you call it again?”

“The Roads Foundation. Grady, I know you know what it is. The children’s hospital, you were supposed to be there when your dad was at the dedication? You never showed up.”

She could see him exhale, his energy change.

“Well, there you go. If I was, as you say, this foundation’s leader, wouldn’t I show up?” He wiped his hands with a napkin.

“Not if you’ve spent the last twelve years funneling money through a multi-layered trust structure to fund a foundation run by three of your friends from college.”

Grady’s smile fell, and Kate knew her research guy was spot on.

“Peter, your best friend, sits on the board,” she added gently.

Grady said nothing.

“Grady,” she touched his hand, “what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“Who did you tell?”

“No one. I saw the report when I got home and I called you.”

“Was anyone copied on the report?”

“No. The only reason it was noted is they were looking at potential exposure with taxes. My background check guy noticed the sums, dug deeper, and then noted there was nothing illegal and no exposure. He had no idea what he was uncovering.”

“Shit.”

“What? Grady we just spent all weekend together. Why are you doing this? Why is this all a secret? Christ, people bend over backwards to make sure they get press for their good deeds. Why can’t you let—”

“You don’t understand. You and I, we live in different worlds.”

“I’m clear on that, but you are a public figure—”

“My father is a public figure.”

“Right, but you, by association, are in the public eye and the public thinks you are something quite different than you are. I don’t understand why someone would want people to think less of him than the reality.”

“Leave it alone, Kate.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry you don’t see value in this, but your father hired me to do a job and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. You would be celebrated. The work your foundation does is amazing and honorable. Why would you—”

“It’s best to not let anyone in.”

“Grady, what does that mean?” Kate said, dropping her fork, no longer interested in eating.

“In my world there are a handful of people I let in. The rest are kept at a safe distance by the image and persona I feed them. I don’t care if people think I’m an idiot.”

“But—”

“Kate, let me finish. I don’t let people in because that’s what works for me. It’s easier and it keeps the parts of me that make me my mother’s son safe. I don’t need to share who I am with the world. It only brings grief and pain. I can’t, I won’t allow it.”

“Then why do these things?”

“Because it’s who I am, it’s where I find my worth, my value. These people, these shelters, or homes, or kitchens, these are real and I
feel
when I’m there.”

Kate’s breath caught at the reference to feeling. She’d felt for the first time in a long time when she was around him and his foundation did the same thing for him for him.
God, they were both messed up.

“If I let the rest of the world into this, if I give that piece of myself to the vultures that hunt me and my family for a sport, if I do that, then they’ll find me and ruin me.”

“But you don’t even let your family in.”

“They wouldn’t understand. They can’t help themselves, they’re part of the machine. The Roads Foundation would become a vehicle for them, a way to jump in the polls.”

“Information like this would win the election for your father. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”

“If you share this, it will destroy the foundation, our work will be tainted. Don’t you understand? The only real way to give is giving without credit or awards. Otherwise, it’s just bullshit.”

“First, I disagree. Not all philanthropists are anonymous and they still do great work. Bill and Melinda Gates, hello? You’re hiding behind a persona that is completely fabricated and I don’t understand why. It’s as if you think you’re not good enough to be the face of what you are doing. Is that it?”

Grady stood up and started clearing the plates.

“Grady?”

He turned to her with a youthful, lonely look on his face. “I’m asking you not to share this. My father will win this election without the foundation. I need this kept private. It is my right, damn it, to have something private.”

Kate stood up. Grady moved toward the door and grabbed his jacket.

“Can you tell me why? Why you’re not the chairman of the board? Why you are hiding?”

Grady ran his hand over his face and laughed. “Oh, well that’s the million dollar question. I don’t have any answers, Kate. This is what I do, it’s what works for me, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what people think of me as long as I continue to keep this foundation moving on my own terms. Are we done here?”

Kate didn’t know what to say, so she nodded. He held her eyes for a moment and in them was a plea. He looked down and walked out.

Chapter Twenty-One

T
hree days later, Kate’s oldest brother, Neil, was turning thirty-six. She was still somewhat relaxed from her weekend away, but Grady’s secret, and her promise to keep it, was causing her some angst. Kate was pretty sure an evening spent with her family would finish her off and her time at Santuario del Corazón would be a distant memory. Carrying Neil’s gift, a salad bowl she had asked Reagan to make, and the bag of ice her mother had called and asked her to bring, Kate knocked, and then walked through the front door of her parents’ house. They’d sold the home she and her brothers grew up in and downsized, in anticipation of her father’s retirement. That was almost eight years ago. Kate was beginning to think her father was never going to retire. Her mother kept hinting, but Kate and her brothers agreed that their Dad needed to work. “He would go nuts without the job,” Ethan had said the last time they met for lunch.

Kate heard voices out in the backyard. Sliding the back door open, she braced herself for the full Flanagan family onslaught.

“Katie!” she heard her father and brothers chant. It was a welcome greeting that always made her feel loved.

“You’re late, honey. Just put that ice in the cooler and take a seat. We’re about to say grace for my very first baby boy.” And then there was her mother, Kate thought, as she dropped the ice into the cooler and grabbed a soda.

“Hey, Katie grab me a beer on your way over,” Neil called out.

Kate kissed cheeks around the table and handed her brother a beer.

“Happy birthday, biggest brother,” Kate said as she took her place at the table. She had called Neil her biggest brother since she was a little girl born to two big brothers. As long as she could remember, Ethan was her big brother, or “other brother” as he was often called, and Neil was her biggest brother.