He shrugs; “A campaign is a campaign; I’d have figured a big important business man like yourself would understand that,” he says with a sneer. “Reagan makes a great figurehead for that campaign, but it’s the run that’s important here.”
“You mean it doesn’t matter if she wins or not, as long as the campaign is good?” My voice starts to rise as I shake my head in disgust at him. Because then you become the next wizard campaign manager for putting a twenty three year old girl up for a New York Senate seat and running a ‘good campaign’, even if she doesn’t win.
“I don’t expect one of William’s army buddies to understand.”
“Marines, dick.”
Donald shakes his head; “Regardless, it’s nothing you’d understand. If Archer Holdings wants to finance the campaign, that’s great. And if they think you need to somehow protect her like some sort of bodyguard, fine, I’m even ok with that too.” He frowns and takes another step towards me before he sticks his finger out and pokes me in the chest; “But if you think there’s anything else for you here, I’m here to tell you that you are sorely mistaken.”
“Fuck you, Donald.”
“Look, you’re here to protect an investment, right?” He frowns at me again; “So do your fucking job. ‘Protect the investment’ doesn’t mean suddenly deciding you know more about running a candidate than I do, ok?”
“You’re pushing her too hard.”
“She’ll adapt and she’ll mold into what she needs to be.”
I shake my head at him and his mechanical robot answers; “Jesus, Donald; are you fucking serious?”
“Hudson, this isn’t the first time I’ve helped a trust-fund kid play politics you know.”
I can feel my temper start to rage inside, my hands clutching at my side; “We both know she’s a lot more than that.”
Donald just shrugs; “Look, I get it. She’s beautiful, charismatic, magnetic; she’s William’s daughter - I mean really Hudson, I get why you’re following her around like you are.” For a moment I bristle; suddenly wondering if Donald actually knows what’s going on between Reagan and I. “I mean I’m glad you’ve decided to be her friend like you’ve been-” whew, guess not “- and that’s exactly the kind of attraction we’re working for her target demographic.” He looks at me shrewdly; “Don’t fool yourself though, Reagan has an angle here, and that angle is to get elected, not be your pal.”
“Donald, the only one playing shadow angles here is you.” I growl, feeling my jaw tense.
He shrugs; “Look, you want to help her? Keep her locked down; keep her focused on what she needs to do.” He starts to walk out of the room before he pauses and turns at the door; “Stick to the plan, Hudson.” And then he’s gone, leaving me alone in this dark library full of ghosts and questions and my own shattered thoughts.
16
Reagan
P A S T
“Well I think it’s awesome,” Chelsea says, sipping on her coffee.
“Thanks. I mean it’s just a low-level position for the campaign, but he’s a pretty strong incumbent, so it’ll be great experience to work for his office.”
Chelsea grins, “Dad would’ve loved that you’re getting into politics you know.”
“Not why I’m doing it, but fine.” I mutter.
Chelsea huffs and slaps her hand down hard on the bench we’re camped out on in Central Park; “Ok, honestly, when are you going to let all of that go?”
I scowl and look away from her; “What does it matter?”
“It matters because it’s not healthy to keep letting it eat away at you like that! Ok, fine, we get it! Dad worked a lot, and he missed some stuff, and you’re mad about it!”
“Are you not?” I snap at her.
“We all have regrets, Reagan, but no, I’m not mad at him for working hard, or for Mom dying so young.”
I look away again, wordless and angry.
“He did what he could-”
“Well it wasn’t good enough, now was it!?”
Chelsea’s face tightens as she holds my furious look and shakes her head; “He’s dead, Reagan; you think you can get around to forgiving him now anyways?”
P R E S E N T
Donald is talking about polling points, or something to do with “provisional budgeting,” but I’m honestly not even hearing a word he says. It’s hardly been a handful of hours since what happened back at the house in Greenwich, and while we might be back in the City, my mind is still right back there on that balcony, watching my breath crystalize in the chill of the air as Hudson’s hot mouth devours me-