I wait for the laughter to subside. “I believe there is still a lot of work to do. I’m not saying life is easy for everyone. I will keep working for everyone, however, and focus my efforts into building this country into an even better, stronger country where everyone has a chance to improve their life, not just the rich corporate interests.”
Jordan hammered on me that we needed to specifically call out corporations, not just “rich people,” because it’s easier to rally people against a faceless business.
“I watched my parents struggle while I was growing up. I spent countless hours working alongside them when I wasn’t in school or doing homework. They taught me the value of honest, hard work. I’m not afraid of it and never have been. There’s no shame in being a farmer, or a store clerk. There’s no reason to see yourself as less-than because you have a minimum wage job. But you deserve the same opportunities to make a living for yourself that giant corporations give to their highest executives. And we’ve already made progress in that area. Minimum wages are up, fewer people are uninsured, and high school graduation rates are improving.
“Now is the time to continue our course and make sure we keep our nation’s citizens flourishing, thriving, succeeding. This doesn’t mean stifling businesses. It means not giving large corporations everything they want just for sheer profit and at the expense of hard-working folks like you. It means helping small businesses and farms succeed. You’ve seen my tax returns—I’m not rich and never have been. That’s why I’ve never forgotten where I came from. I’ve never been ashamed of where I came from, either. And that’s why I’m determined to make sure that, no matter where you come from, you too can have a life worth living without working yourself to death in the process, or sacrificing your health, or your children’s health.”
Thunderous applause, because appealing to them like that’s always a winner. Emphasize protecting small businesses and farmers as opposed to faceless large corporations.
I’m certain Jordan will have numbers for me tomorrow about how well my speech did, and he’ll make sure my speechwriters do a deep dive into the reactions so we can keep my poll numbers elevated for as long as possible. This re-election bounce with the public will help us ramrod stuff through the Senate and the House before midterms, when there’s a risk of us sacrificing a few seats. It’s not uncommon for the party that holds the Oval Office to lose seats in midterms.
We lucked out the last time around. I don’t know what our numbers look like yet exactly this election, but there shouldn’t be any ugly surprises.
I hope.
“Thanks to all of you,” I continue as the applause and cheers wane, “to your hard work and energetic support, we can continue to prosper in this country, and continue to make an even brighter future not just for us, but for our children, too. Thank you, and blessings to all of you, to our country, and to our troops.”
I step back, waving and trying to remain anchored in this moment, to the unfettered praise showering down on me in this room.
Because I know tomorrow is Wednesday, and it means getting back to the job at hand. Putting my head down, and my shoulder against the boulder I’m forcing up that goddamned hill.
I suppose that could apply both to my personal fears as well as my professional life. Because as much as I want to do it right now, I can’t make myself utter the public announcement that will upend my world—and Leo’s—forever.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
I filmshort hits for each of the major networks because if I don’t it’ll look…odd.
I mean, I just won re-election in a landslide. To eschew the press would probably lead to speculation I’m not feeling well. Or that maybe I’m in pain.
Dancing with the press is like being lost in the wilderness with a dangerous predator circling you and looking for any weakness so they can launch a strike to gleefully devour you.
I’m under no illusions that my second-term honeymoon with the press has a shorter shelf-life than a saucer of milk left out under a hot July sun.
Maybe even shorter.
I’m not a new president. I won’t even get the courtesy of a “first hundred days” after my January swearing in. That’s the downside to winning re-election. I’m expected to not need those first three months for getting my feet under me.
And rightfully so, I suppose. If I don’t have the job down by now I don’t deserve my second term.
The press will hammer me harder on minor missteps and is less likely to sing my praises when it’s deserved. All in the name of both-sidesism, which is another way of saying they’re looking for a ratings boost by blowing anything into a crisis for clicks and viewers. They don’t like smooth sailing because it means no one’s watching or reading.
It’s nearly two a.m. by the time we depart the hotel to return to the White House. Stella left shortly after my speech without even saying good-bye to me. My supposition is she knew there’s no way she’d be able to squeeze an ounce of attention out of anyone else from that point on, so why bother hanging around?
Her absence means I don’t have to worry about making any excuses for why Leo’s riding with me and Jordan. On the back seat, I flop over with my head in Leo’s lap while he massages my scalp.
“Tired, pet?”
“Yes, Master.” I deeply inhale and once again try to remain anchored in this moment. The flood of calls from other world leaders congratulating me has already started but I need a couple of hours to myself with my men. Jordan’s already told the switchboard to hold those and log them so I can begin the process of returning them in the morning once I’m down in the Oval.
He’s also scheduled me not to head down there until eleven. Executive time in the morning.
I’ll need it.
What I’ll likely be doing is spending most of that time snuggled in bed with Leo while Jordan cooks us breakfast. I don’t even have any energy to be playful tonight, much less sexy.
The feel of Leo’s fingers rubbing my scalp threatens to lull me to sleep. “That feels sooo good,” I groan.
He chuckles. “At least you don’t have to worry about a transition. Just inauguration day festivities.”
