Page 38 of Dignity

“I’m serious. I need to hear you say it.”

I sigh. “Yes, we’re off the record. If you haven’t heard, I’m not a reporter now.”

I don’t miss how she glances at Christopher. It almost seems he gives her the slightest of nods before she continues,but I don’t have time to contemplate that.

Her next words stun me, knocking that little interplay right off my radar.

“I’m running for president. That means I’ll need, among other things, a communications manager, a campaign manager, and a lead strategist. I need to be on a war footingnow, long before Iowa. I need someone to help me select a VP. I need someone who can decipher polls and readthem like Tarot cards.”

I study the senator. That she plans to run isn’t unexpected—if anyone is going to run for president I would expect it to be her. I’d honestly be more shocked if she told me she was never running.

“What does this have to do withme?” I ask.

She smiles again. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to come work for me.”

I think I’m missing something. “You want me to come to workfor you as your…what, exactly?”

“Well, you have choices, as I just said. Comms, campaign manager, or strategist? Of course, I’d want you to stay on after the campaign. Press secretary, or chief of staff, then. Your choice.”

“You’re a Democrat. I’m a Republican.”

“So? You yourself know parties are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. The country and Constitution are what matter. Peoplefrom all political viewpoints work for POTUS. It makes for a more balanced administration when they do.”

Staring at her, I struggle to process this. “You realize I have no personal political experience, right? Being a TV pundit isn’t the same as war room experience.”

“You have everything I need. I’m well aware of your background, education, and professional history, Mr. Markos.”

I sit back.“Call me Kevin, Senator.”

“Very well, Kevin. I respect you for standing up for what you believe in, even if the method of delivery was belated and a little confrontational for my tastes. You have a non-compete clause in your contract with FNB that will prohibit you from taking another network job right now, even if you could get someone to hire you.”

Nearly stunned into silence bythat, I stareat her for a moment before I can finally find the words. “How’d you know about my contract?”

She continues as if I didn’t speak. “You’re smart, insightful. Even though you had to toe the network’s line, you always injected common sense and critical thinking into your program. You didn’t tell your viewers what to think—you told them the facts and asked them to draw conclusions. Of all the anchorson your former network, you are theonlyone PolitiFact never gave a Pants On Fire rating. You have, by far, the highest ‘mostly true’ rating ofanyon-air cable news anchor. Not just on your network, but among Fox, MSNBC, and CNN, too. That’s saying something.”

I know that, but it’s never something I publicly tout. It is, however, something I’ve always secretly taken pride in.

Lauren is a closesecond though, in her ratings in that way. Her only Pants On Fire was due to one of her PAs taking a shortcut and not properly sourcing something, requiring Lauren to issue an on-air retraction the next day.

And got the PA fired from her show.

“I have integrity, Senator.”

“And yet you worked for Full News Broadcasting for, what, eleven years? After nine years at USNN?”

Ouch.

But she’s notwrong.

“If you know so much,” I say, “then you know I started my career at USNN’s most liberal show.”

She snorts. “Such as it was. Poor Bill. Mother really liked him. It’s a shame he ended his career there instead of someplace with a better rep. Even back then, USNN was a shit-show, they were just less obvious about it because they didn’t have a flashy budget.”

Again, she’s not wrong. “He wasa good man,” I say.

Bill died three years after his last heart attack, descending into dementia and dying alone in a nursing home. He had no kids, and Lauren and I volunteered to pay for his funeral, because we were two of the few people visiting him every week and making sure he was being taken care of.

“What about your current chief of staff?” I ask.