‘mad, old stray dog,’ ” he said. “I believe you could write your own bluegrass songs.”
We both laughed and I slid back in my seat, relieved to have someone to talk to after such a grueling day. He took my hand in his as we drove, and within minutes we reached the circular driveway of the Four Seasons. William insisted we check in under his name and booked us into a suite on the 15th floor. It made sense. We needed a large room to work in, and didn’t want anyone in the media to know our whereabouts while we prepared for the next day.
I scanned the suite as the bellman led us into the living room, checking for electrical outlets, the one thing hotel rooms always have too few of. This was to be our campaign’s secret field office for the next several hours. Gabriel and Levi were set to arrive shortly. Maggie was on her way, bringing a portable wireless printer. We would need enough electricity to power a small city, when everyone in our group arrived with their phones and laptops.
When Maggie arrived, William left the main room, leaving us to set up my laptop and the printer. As was his way, he’d wandered off into one of the suite’s two bedrooms to read and play guitar. Since we’d met, I found myself repeatedly taken with his ability to sit quietly and soothe himself. I hoped when the campaign was over, he would teach me how to adopt some of his methods, although I had serious doubts I had the personality to be so restful with my time.
Not long after we set up, there was a gentle knock at the door. William walked out of the bedroom to investigate.
“It’s them,” he said, peering through the peephole, and he quickly opened the door.
Gabriel and Levi walked in, looking exhausted. Twenty-four hours is a long time to be in the churn of the news cycle, and from the look of things, it had been rough on them. I could feel Levi’s deep, deep sadness at the predicament he found himself in. Gabriel, on the other hand, was angry, with Richard, I presumed, or maybe even me.
He wanted to know what had happened today. The thought came into my head clearly and I sent one back just as fast. All in good time, I pushed back to him. I will set your mind at ease. He looked up and nodded, a thin smile on his face.
Levi and Gabriel went into the living room, sinking into a pair of plush library chairs that had been decorated in a jaunty brown and blue French sailor stripe. Now that they were both comfortable, I jumped at a chance to try to relieve Levi.
“As you know, I’ve spent the better part of today interviewing registered voters, while Maggie and Patrick from our campaign conducted about fifty phone interviews, using numbers we got when we ran our poll of the participants who had given permission to contact them again.”
Levi listened, trying to be patient, but clearly wished I’d cut to the chase.
“The bottom line is that after dozens of interviews with voters, we believe that this will not harm your campaign permanently, so long as Richard apologizes and you indicate very concretely that you disagree with his views. If we do those two things, we should be able to pull out of this.”
“The donation,” Levi asked. “Is that still something we want to do?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
Levi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as he spoke. “I have a friend who founded a charity in the Valley called Vocational Service Corps or VSC. It’s a non-profit that helps people find employment and provides classes to improve skills, rewrite resumes, those kinds of things. I am prepared to donate $5 million over the next five years to help start a drop-in program for people who’ve been notified they’ll lose their jobs. Studies show people who prepare are often better able to find work quickly. I’ll place one hundred percent of the money in a trust for them and they can draw the funds annually.”
“Ç’est bon,” Gabriel said.
“It’s perfect, and very generous,” I said.
Levi shook his head ruefully. “The sad thing is that I planned on doing something like this anyway, but now it will also look like a gesture forced under duress.”
“Yes, mon ami, but it’s an elegant gesture, and that is what will be remembered
****
CHAPTER 28
Our