Page 105 of Release
Chapter Twenty-Four
Now
Mark Twain once said, “We have the best government that money can buy.”
He’s not wrong.
Fortunately, George is not a greedy, evil man.
Besides being a motherfucker of a sadist, I mean.
George was raised by parents who had strong ethics that made a deep impression on him in his early years.
Doesn’t mean people don’t want to pay for access. This works in my favor.
Especially when I pay a visit to my buddy David Horrence. He’s no longer a Nashville councilman. He’s got his sights set on running for state rep in two years, and he’s looking for big-ticket names who will want to endorse him. Today, I track him down at the office for his construction company, and since I know his administrative assistant, I chat with her for a moment before going on in without her even announcing me.
He’s on the phone. Do I inwardly giggle when he goes a little white in the face when I walk in?
Damn right I do.
I close the door behind me and take a seat in a chair in front of his desk and wait for him to finish the call.
Unfortunately, I have to take care of this business sooner rather than later, meaning I need to make shit happen.
Once he finishes his call, he nervously laughs. “Um, hey, Casey-Marie. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“No, you weren’t.” I take a piece of paper out of my purse and slide it across his desk to him. On it are printed ten names, and yes, I used my computer because I’m not stupid enough to put my handwriting on it. “You’re going to organize a private fundraiser dinner next Friday. Pick a nice steakhouse around this area with a private back room. Little impromptu shindig for George. He will be therepersonally, not a surrogate. Off the record, too. No press.”
He looks at the names. “Why are you having me do this?”
“I’mnot having you do anything, David.Youlove my boss somuchthat you want to help drum up some money for his PAC since he made such a strong showing in the primary. No press, no spouses, no plus-ones.Onlythose names. No substitutions. A quiet dinner, nothing fancy or loud or even lasting very long. The kind of backroom-deal dinner you know and love sofuckingmuch, my friend.That’swhy such an exclusive guest list. You mentioned it to me last week when we bumped into each other at that meet-and-greet, and I told you sure, set it up and contact me with the deets.”
I watch his throat work as he swallows. I can tell he’s trying to figure out my angle. “Wh-what if I can’t get them all to come?”
“Get as many of them as you can. No required buy-in to attend, either. Tell them the governor greatly respects them and is interested in hearing their vision for our state for the next four years. And if they wish to donate to Governor Forrester’s PAC, why, I don’t see any harm in that.”
I sit back in my chair and study my manicure. “I mean, I could always approach them individually and tell them you didn’t respect them enough to invite them. By the way, I was thinking about dropping by your house and saying hi to Mavis, and—”
“No!” He wipes his mouth with his hand and I wonder if he’s a day drinker now. “Okay. I’ll make the calls.”
“Excellent. And be very persuasive.” I smile. “Guess I won’t have to drop by and have a chat with Mavis after all, will I?”
I guess it’s also a good thing he’s not a Jedi, because that death glare he sends me would probably kill me. “How long are you going to keep me on the hook for that?”
I stand. “Until your youngest is eighteen, at least. I’ll expect a text about what time and which steakhouse by noon tomorrow.” I waggle my fingers at him in a wave. “Ta!”
I bid his AA good-bye and head for my car. Now I’ll have to see if Horrence comes through for me or not. Regardless, it’s a win for George. Money in the bank we can use for TV ads, run them on some of the cable stations, like FNB, MSNBC, CNN, Bloomberg, and Fox, not just the local network affiliate stations.
Whether it’s a win for me, too, remains to be seen.
* * * *
I have a text from Horrence a few minutes after eight that evening, listing the steakhouse and time. He picked a good one, too. Great prime rib, or so I’ve heard, although I’ve never eaten there. This particular restaurant has close ties to one of the names on the list, which means if my luck holds, there’s a better than odds-on chance that particular whale will be in attendance.
At work the next morning, I bring it up at the staff meeting we hold every morning before George arrives.
“I’ve added a small, private campaign dinner to the schedule for the governor,” I tell them. Next Friday, seven. No press inside, no avail after. This is an FYI for planning and security detail purposesonly. Keep it off the official schedule, and keep his official schedule clear. No other elected officials or staffers will be there besides me. Again, it’s aprivateevent, and there are no Sunshine Law conflicts.”
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