That earns a chuckle from the people in front of me and I pause to give them another photo op that they eat up.
“When I made the decision to run for Governor, I thought, 'What if we could take the lessons learned from Savannah and apply them over the entire state?' 'What if we take the Landry formula and turn Georgia into the gem it should and deserves to be?' So I tossed my name in the hat. Looking back, it’s not a decision I regret, but one I wish I would’ve handled somewhat differently.”
The clicks of the cameras along with murmuring fill the air, and I look up at Lincoln. The smile on his face gives me the courage I need to speak again, to bare my soul to these vultures and, quite possibly, end my career.
“Politics has a way of eating people up. So many good men have been sidelined and silenced because of pressures put on them by others in this world. It’s a part of the game, a part of the industry, but I think that’s common knowledge. The part that most don’t realize, I know I didn’t, is how it sneaks up on you. One day you know exactly what you want and the next,” I shrug, “you aren’t sure who you are anymore.”
I look down, crumple my notes, and take a deep breath.
“It’s hard to find people in life that will tell you the truth. That will look you in the eye when things get hard and tell you what you need to hear, not what everyone is saying and not what you want them to say. The truth—it’s a rarity these days.
“Today, I want to make it absolutely clear who and what I am. Because if I am lucky enough to be chosen by the constituents of Georgia to be their Governor, I want you to know what I stand for and what I’ll do on your behalf.”
Cameras click away as I go through the Land Bill, letting them know I will support it and I will lose my endorsement from Monroe by saying as much. I let them know the platforms that mean the most to me—our economy and education—and what I intend to do to make them stronger if I’m in office.
“Some of this is new information, some of this is not,” I say, taking a deep breath. “But at the end of the day, it was important to me that we get on the same page, so, if I’m elected, I know it’s because you want me to do the things I think are best, not what I’m told to do.”
Questions begin to be shouted towards me as they sense I’m finished and a mic is held in front of a woman I’ve been interviewed by a few times. “Mayor, a lot is being said in the last few days about your stability. We’ve been hearing that you’re in a relationship, that you’re having a baby with another woman, and then you were with Ms. Monroe last night. Since you’re talking so off-the-cuff, would you mind addressing this for us?”
I lower the microphone to my mouth and look at Lincoln. He winks.
“Absolutely. I don’t feel I should waste my time or yours with these baby rumors because they’re just that—rumors. As for the third part of your question, Ms. Monroe is a friend from way back and she was with me last night because Ms. Baker wasn’t available,” I say, figuring it’s the truth in a round-about way. “And since we’re having to address my love life, I’d like to ask you to respect my privacy and Ms. Baker’s, as I respect yours. I realize I work for the people and my activities that deal with public policy are fair game. But who I love, where she works, and what we have for dinner isn’t anyone else’s business.”
“So you are still in a relationship?” someone shouts from the back.
“I am. Absolutely,” I say, hoping to God it’s the truth. “Alison Baker is, quite frankly, the love of my life. Let there be no question about that. And she has a little boy that I think the world of and I hope you can understand why he deserves to be left alone.”
More questions are shouted, but my throat is squeezed tight. Saying her name throws me off my game, my stomach rumbling with worry. Graham picks up on my wobble and comes on stage and takes charge, letting them know I have work to do for the election.
I exit through the door off the side and look around. The hallway is empty. I’m not sure why, but I feel incredibly lonely.
Like I just struck out.
Alison
A PLATTER OF PANCAKES AND bacon is placed in front of me, Hux’s eyes lighting up when he sees his chocolate chip stack.
The server fills our drinks and scurries away to check on her other tables.
The diner is busy, the witching hour that straddles the breakfast and lunch rushes in full effect. We made it just in time for the first meal of the day, even though it’s approaching lunch.