Domestic Affairs (34 page)

“No problem. I can think of something. Sorry again about the party thing. It really was just an idea that spurted out of my mouth. I didn't think through it at all.”

“Unfortunately for me, these days your word seems to be golden!”

“Very funny!”

“Actually, Liv, you really are doing a great job. He's listening to you because you're getting things done. You just need to keep in mind that when he starts listening to you on that level you have to be much more careful about what you're saying.”

“Okay.”

Jacob tried to explain his point further. “I mean, I know it sounds crazy but he takes in so much every day, we just have to filter things before they get to him so we can keep the campaign more focused than any one human could be. The whole needs to be greater than the parts here, even the big part!”

“It doesn't sound crazy at all. Will work on it.”

“Thanks, Liv. And thanks for letting me vent.”

“No prob, Jacob. Hang in there. Tomorrow will be better.”

“You don't need me here, huh?” The governor ran his hand down Olivia's stomach as she hung up the phone with Jacob, and she flinched when it tickled.

“Not at all.” She turned on her side, facing him, and leaned in to kiss his ear. “It's really more of a want thing.”

The governor's arm wrapped around her side and he inched her closer. “So, what was that all about? He complaining?”

Olivia felt protective of Jacob.
Relatively.
She revised her own thoughts since she was lying in a bed with Landon, a move that was far from protective of anyone, most of all Jacob. “That, my friend, was about us almost getting caught! You made me laugh twice.”

“Oh please, you laugh all the time.”

“Not while you're on the phone! Campaign Lesson number twenty-five: No talking in the background!” She punched him lightly in the shoulder and winced. She hated recognizing that it had become reflexive for her to stop talking every time his phone rang.

“I thought ‘No kissing in the background' was twenty-five.”

“Very funny. Seriously, we have to be more careful. And you. You have to stop favoring fundraising.”

“Is that so?” He started to pull his hand away from her back. She grabbed it back. She loved the feel of his arm around her, his hand grabbing her side.

“Well, at least in such an obvious fashion.”

While the time Landon put into fundraising was a huge help in reaching her financial goals and she certainly wasn't going to argue about the time they were spending together, the amount of it all was starting to take a toll. She had been in L.A. for three days, and between the time change, work, and late-night calls with Landon, she was just plain tired and thankful to be at the last fundraiser of the trip. As if three straight days of events weren't enough, Aubrey had brought the kids and two nannies out for the trip, which doubled everyone's logistical work and stress.

Olivia was charged with contacting donors to get them special tours at Disneyland, Universal Studios, and anywhere else she could think of. She hated making the calls on so many levels. She didn't have the time for superfluous planning, especially on calls that consisted of her hearing how honored every single person in L.A. would be to be in the presence of Aubrey, Margaret, and Dixon Taylor.
Aubrey, Margaret, and Dixon Taylor.
Saying their names twenty times a day did not go over well with her conscience, which preferred to stay in a state of denial. However, having them scheduled around the city for most of the trip meant Olivia could steer clear of seeing them in person. Until tonight.

The last event of the trip was a fundraiser at the home of Andrew and Liz Herly, championship sailors who had moved to L.A. after their reality TV show became a hit. The house looked like a New England boathouse transported to Beverly Hills. Its high ceilings were vaulted, with exposed wood beams, and most of the walls were covered in navy and white striped wallpaper.

Aubrey and the kids and Landon stood on a makeshift stage in front of a full-wall mural of Liz and Andrew winning the World Cup. Olivia had learned from writing the briefing that the renowned artist Lisa Baglivi had been commissioned to paint it last summer after her solo show at LACMA. As a backdrop to the speaking program, it made the Taylor family look like they were standing in the middle of a beach. As Landon began talking, Olivia's heart sank with the knowledge that she was hurting, possibly ruining, this perfect family.

“Let me tell you”—he looked out at the crowd of about a hundred people—“nothing could make me happier than being here with my beautiful family. Let's have a round of applause for the real beauty and brains of the Taylor operation!” He beamed at his wife and kids, who adoringly looked back at their man, as he went on to recount the tale of their first family trip to California. Olivia had heard the story more than a million times and yet it still sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. She hated thinking about them as a family at all.
“You can't combine worlds,”
she remembered Jacob telling her.
“Keep them separate or they won't make sense.” More like keep them separate or you'll have a nervous breakdown
, she thought. It was so much simpler to see Aubrey as the mean woman who canceled fundraisers hours before they were about
to start. The bitch who looked down on Landon, who didn't appreciate what she had. And Olivia preferred to not see the kids at all. Hearing family stories, no matter how many times Landon told her they were old news, wracked her with guilt. Olivia walked off to the side of the living room and headed to the back bar, which had been brought in and placed in front of a wall of trophies. She needed to literally move farther away from his words and also was in desperate need of hydration.
Maybe they have some appetizers left back there
, she thought, knowing full well that she had requested they not serve anything while the governor was speaking.

She quietly whispered to the bartender, “Sorry to have been bothering you all night, but could I grab a Diet Coke, no ice?”

“No ice?” he asked incredulously, making her even more aware of the bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck.

“No ice, please.” Like the service of food, ice would make noise, a totally unacceptable distraction from his speaking.

She grasped the warm soda and fell back into the wall. After two sips she looked up to the ceiling and questioned the world she had landed in. She felt barely strong enough to stand up, even with the wall behind her. As her head tilted downward she noticed the rapt quiet of the room. The governor's voice was rising,

“Our country used to be about becoming bigger and better. Politicians added amendments to our Constitution to expand rights and include more people. Now it has become the opposite. Now everyone spends all their time stopping things—gays can't marry, immigrants can't immigrate, women can't choose when to start a family. I'm not arguing the points, though I could. I could go on for hours about how wrong they are, how racist and closed-minded they are, but then I'd just be adding time and energy and another voice into a negative corner of the world. It's time to turn the conversation around. It's time to start talking about—and more importantly working for—good things, positive things. It's time for innovation. It's time for scientific advancements. It's time we find sustainable energy sources. It's time we make our education system one we can be proud of.”

Olivia stood as hypnotized by his words as the rest of the room was. A dropped pin would have been crashingly loud.

“Y'all know where I stand on the issues, and those who don't can look it up on the Internet. I'm not going to spend this campaign talking about what's wrong and how we're going to fight it. I'm going to talk about what's right, what could be, and how we're going to get there. I want a better America and it is not just possible, it is within our reach. Once upon a time in our history, a man stood up and said we could go to the moon, and a nation delivered. Now I'm saying I want to bring us back to earth. Feet firmly on the ground, we will make this country the beacon of light and of advancement that it should be. Together we will reach the greatness we were meant for.”

Olivia dropped her drink on the nearest cocktail table. No longer aware of the heat or her exhaustion, she joined in the standing ovation. She looked around at the exhilaration in all the faces. Suddenly the momentous nature of the campaign hit her with a wave of pride.
I better commit this moment to memory
, she thought.
One day people will want to know what it sounded like in person
.

“Wowzers.” Mariqua, one of the many rich female donors who swooned every time the governor was around, leaned in close enough for Olivia to get high off her Chanel No. 5 perfume. “That was amaaazing. Ahhbsoluutely amaaazing. I mean, can you stand it? I haaave to talk to him after. I simply muust. Here are more contributions!” She handed Olivia two folded-up checks. “Did you ask him yet if he'll come meet us at Mr. Chow?”

Olivia smiled. “I'm so sorry, Mariqua, he's just not going to be able to go. Aubrey and the kids are heading back to Georgia, and he needs to see them off at the airport.”
Like I have told you forty times before
, she thought with new understanding of why Landon always said he was downright frightened by Mariqua.

Actually, Aubrey, with the kids and nannies, would be chauffeured off to their private plane without Landon, but this excuse sounded decidedly better than, “The governor needs to get back to his hotel to cheat on his perfect family with his imperfect fundraiser.”

“So sorry,” Olivia said, using one of her favorite get-out-of-a-conversation-quick tricks and pointing to Taylor, “I've got to go grab the governor.”

“Ahhhh”—Mariqua breathed out embarrassingly loudly—“wouldn't
I love to be the one to
grab
him. Haaaahaaaahaaaahaaa,” she cackled absurdly.

Olivia smiled politely and walked away. Even though the indecency of her actions was magnified in this room, she couldn't help the giddy, mesmerized feeling she had.
I do get to grab him, s
he thought indulgently as she glided through the crowd, which didn't seem half as pushy or painful as it did before. She went to the front door to collect more checks as people filed out of the house.

Jacob ran by her. “This was so much easier when we had Secret Service,” he whispered as he went outside for the third time to check on the family's cars.

Olivia nodded. She hadn't been around for the last presidential race, when there was security everywhere, so even the one or two guards who accompanied them these days seemed like a lot to her. She wondered how she would be able to be alone with Landon once the Service tracked his every move.

“All set!” Jacob spoke loudly as he reentered the home, motioning to the governor. Landon was thanking the hosts as Aubrey pulled the kids toward the door.

“Good-bye, Olivia.” She nodded her approval. “Kids, what do y'all say to Olivia? She arranged the tours for us at Disney and Universal and at the museum.”

“Thank you!” The kids spoke over each other. “It was so much fun!”

“It was my pleasure. Glad you enjoyed it. Have a safe trip.” Olivia smiled, now positive that she would go straight to hell.