I’m touched that he’s counting them. “So, what are we doing today? You tell me.” If he opts out, I have a shit-ton of calls to make ASAP to campaign staff.
He thinks it over before slowly nodding. “I’m going to declare.”
“Then let’s get in the shower and get this day started.”
* * * *
I have Elliot read through the speech one last time in the car on the way over. Elliot’s campaign manager, Ken Windham, and the deputy campaign manager, Camden Bruno, are waiting for us at the event venue when we arrive. With them are at least ten other campaign workers, including the campaign’s press secretary and comms director.
It’s an outdoor event, the weather’s perfect, there’s at least two thousand people in attendance, and Elliot looks sharp in his charcoal suit and blue tie. I’m not matching ties with him today, because that’d look weird and noticeable, but I am wearing a tie that we both have.
So kinda matchies, but not exactly.
Heknows, though.That’sthe whole point.
The crowd is already stoked from the previous two speakers when Elliot hits the stage. He sort of jogs out, which gives the impression of youth and vigor, broadly smiling and shaking hands with the guy who introduced him before taking his place at the podium.
Ken’s standing there with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches. He leans in close to me, one hand holding a paper in front of his mouth as he mutters, “What’syourdeal?”
“Sorry?”
“With the vice president. What’s yourdeal?”
Ken doesn’t know about Elliot and Leo. He’s not in the inner circle, and never will be.
That means he cannot know about Elliot and me, either. “He’s my best friend. Why?”
“Those were good edits you suggested. On the speech. I could always get you a job as a speechwriter.”
I smile. “Can’t get rid of me that easily. I serve at the pleasure of the vice president.”
Boy, do I.
We all pay attention as Elliot nails every note, every beat, every pause. As he makes the final approach to the climax sound bite that will be blasted around the globe and across the Internet in short order, I’m carefully watching him. We’ll have tapes of this speech at the office in less than an hour, because some of our people are filming it, too. I want to study it and him, see where we can tweak his performance.
Plus, I’m still not positive he won’t back out.
He takes a breath and, just like we practiced, his gaze sweeps the audience.
“I’ve spent most of my adult life in public service, for my home state, and for my country. Both in the military, and in government. Service is, to me, a higher calling. That’s why I’m officially declaring my candidacy for president of the United States of America.”
The crowd’s already going batshit and screaming with approval before he even gets the entire last sentence out.
It’s safe to say they’re happy he’s running.
I watch him as I and the other campaign staff clap backstage. Elliot’s staring out at the crowd, hands gripping the podium now, then he glances over and our gazes lock.
I give him a head tip.
He gives me one in return.
I guess the bottom line is everything Leo’s done with us over the years is so embedded and deep that, in some ways, we’ll never be able to let him or those commonalities go.
Like these silent cues.
In times like these, I won’t fight using them, because they’re helpful.
Then Elliot lets releases the podium and straightens, like he’s just received an injection of strength from me.
