Everyone’s hands shot into the air. Marthatook over directing the press conference. Park could only hear static as reporters shouted over each other to be heard. Dan seemed to be answering most of the questions, though he occasionally deferred to Jackson or Martha. Finally, Sam stood. “That’s all the time we have. Thank you so much.”
As the press cleared out of the room, Jackson approached Park. “Are you okay?”
“No,” Park said.He felt everything he’d worked for these last few years slipping out of his fingers.
Jackson nodded and pulled Park back into the adjacent room. They didn’t gain much privacy—only a temporary folding wall separated the two connected rooms—but at least no other people were in sight.
“It’s over,” Jackson said.
“Yeah, it’s over. Everything’s over.” Park exhaled sharply, suddenly havinga hard time putting a cap on his temper. “The election’s a month away. Even if the police made an arrest tomorrow, I don’t know if that’s enough time to recuperate my image.”
“Politicians have recovered from worse.”
“And they’ve fallen into obscurity because of less.” Park began to pace. “I know it’s selfish to think this way, because a woman is dead and that is a tragedy, but I... I hatethis guy, Jack. Whoever he is, I hate him. He killed a woman, and he ruined my life.”
“Nothing’s ruined.”
“Yeah? This case is a torpedo to my campaign. Even if I’m exonerated, I’m still tied to this, and people will always wonder. They’ll go to the polls in November and their hand will hover over my name and they’ll think, ‘But maybe hedidkill that girl,’ and they’ll vote for Thompson.”
“Losing an election isn’t the end of the world. You can recover from that. Run again in a few years, or run for something else. Wait for the electorate’s goldfish memory to forget anyone died.” Jack stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Losing was always a possibility, wasn’t it?”
Park pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was, sure, in the beginning. Martha thought we were a long shot forthis seat because Thompson is so popular with the city’s liberal set. But I’m not running for senator of New York City, I’m running to represent the whole state, and north of Westchester? It’s far more conservative. It’s farmers and factory workers and small-town folk who are tired of the city dictating policy for the whole state, who want their fair share. I’m running to get them their fair share.Not only that, but even in the city, I’ve got the Bloomberg voters, the New Yorkers who, yes, support liberal causes like gay rights but who also support more conservative economic policy.”
“Wall Street.”
“Sure, but not just Wall Street. There’s room for a moderate Republican in the Senate, and we had that seat, Jack. We’ve been running ahead in the polls since the primary, beating Thompsonby a margin of as much as five or six points. This election was mine. Until it wasn’t.”
“It might be again.”
“Maybe. I doubt it. And all I keep thinking is how mad I am. I’m mad at this guy, whoever the hell he is, because he fucked everything up. My campaign is falling apart, but it wasn’t because of something I did, or some blemish in my past, or some unpopular position I took. Thisentire situation is completely beyond my control. And I’ve been working toward this moment for more than five years, and I felt so confident I was doing the right thing, that I’d taken the right path. But now I don’t know, because...” And then Park stopped because Jackson had made his feelings clear. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed.
“What?” Jackson asked, taking a step closer.
Park frowned. “No, it’s nothing. Just my frustration at feeling like everything is slipping through my fingers.”
When Park turned, Jackson stood only about a foot away. Close enough to grab, to kiss.
“We can’t discuss this here.” Jackson tilted his head toward the adjacent room, which still teemed with Livingston campaign staffers.
“I know.” Park took a few deep breaths, tryingto calm down. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I understand why you’re upset.”
Park’s first instinct was to protest that, to say that Jackson didn’t have the first idea about how Park felt, but he realized Jackson was probably right. He met Jackson’s gaze, a mutual understanding passing between them.
Martha threw the door open and walked into the room. “Press is gone.”
“Great.” Parklooked between Martha and Jackson, the two people he trusted most in the world, and felt safe asking his next question. “Now what do we do?”
“We wait,” said Jackson.
