Jack blew out a long stream of air after she’d finished.
“What are we going to do about this? This is a whole new wrinkle. How are you going to finesse this?” Jack said to Henry.
“We don’t have to finesse it,” he said. “Because the facts are wrong. This isn’t one of our clubs.”
Casey’s eyes lit up. “This is perfect. This shows exactly why it’s better to have regulated clubs run in a reputable fashion.”
Jack beamed at his sister. “Look at you. Already toeing the party line.”
Denkler laughed. “We’ll send her to Nevada next. Talk up keeping prostitution legal.”
“Well,” Casey said insistently as she turned to Henry, “that’s the point, right? You don’t have any problems at your club like this. You have regular inspections. You adhere to the fire code. You have a liquor license. You follow laws.”
“Exactly,” Henry said with a nod, and Marquita dropped a hand over his, a look of pride on her face as her husband spoke. “We afford a safe place for these activities. If the regulated clubs are shut down, there will be more incidents like this.”
“The question is, how hard do you want to hit this message?” Jack asked, turning to Denkler. “How bad is this killing you in the polls?”
“It’s pretty bad. No one wants to hear about schools and safe streets anymore, now that Conroy has made everyone think the clubs are bringing down the neighborhood,” Denkler admitted, his voice that of a man nearing the end of his rope, as he pushed a hand through his hair. He seemed like a classic heart-of-gold guy. He’d clearly gotten involved in politics because he wanted to make a change for the better, but his platform had been turned upside down by a bastard who went for the jugular.
“You need to get preemptive,” Jack said firmly, reflecting back on his days with the army. “You don’t let the enemy walk all over you. You have to understand the enemy. Understand the problem. Act on it.”
Denkler nodded enthusiastically. “We’ve tried refocusing back to the core message, but my PR manager doesn’t think that will work until we explain openly why we’re not opposed to the clubs, like Conroy is. He thinks we need to talk about why the neighborhood doesn’t need a Times Square style sweep of the clubs. Come at it from an education point of view.”
Henry jumped in. “We should be more vocal in our support too. I think we need to talk more to the press about why Eden and the clubs support Paul, and not simply because he’s my lovely wife’s brother,” he said, squeezing his wife’s hand.
“And by extension, why Joy Delivered does too?” Casey asked.
Henry nodded.
Jack sighed, but didn’t say no. “I don’t know, guys. A lot of people from all walks of life and political persuasions like a little assistance in the bedroom. I don’t want to be a company that takes sides.”
“We don’t have to take sides,” Casey said, piping in. “We just have to explain the facts.”
“We’re backing Paul. We’re already taking sides,” he pointed out.
“But the side we’re on is the side we’re already on. We promote pleasure. That’s our side,” she said insistently. “Besides, it’s okay for us to take sides. We sell sex products. We’re not teachers. We’re not cops. We want consenting adults to be free to do what they want so long as they’re safe. And no one runs a safer club than Henry. Safe for the people who go, but also for those who don’t go.”
Paul’s eyes lit up, and he snapped a finger. “Exactly.”
Jack leaned back in his chair as the waitress brought over iced teas and waters. “There’s your slogan. Safe for those who go, and those who don’t.”
The politician nodded and smiled broadly, as if all the problems had been solved. “That is indeed a great slogan.”
Jack gestured to his sister. “She needs to be more involved. She’s the idea woman. She’d be a great strategist on this.”
Casey smiled, and waved a hand as if to say this was all nothing.
“You have great ideas,” Paul said.
“She does,” Jack added.
The problem hadn’t been solved though. Jack knew why Denkler was swimming upstream. His opponent fought dirty, but he didn’t know how to get muddy. Denkler was a good guy, but he was too good.
“Listen,” Jack began, his tone commanding, the same one he’d used when he talked to his men back in Europe on how to proceed. “I get that politics is a battleground, and you’re losing right now, Paul. You’ve got a sneaky opponent who knows how to twist some serious shit.” He parked his elbows on the table. “But you need to get on the offensive. You’re standing here like a goddamn punching bag, taking his blows. You need to get a handle on what you’re up against. Why do you not have some dirt on Conroy?”