Chapter Seven

 

“This mess has really split the country,” Rowena said, surfing through the news stations on the TV.

“I know,” I sighed, sinking into the couch.

I already knew things were starting to look up, at least for Adam, but I couldn’t say anything.

“When is the press meeting?” she asked.

“In about ten minutes,” I told her, knowing the rest of the country would find out when their favorite comedy show was interrupted.

“Why aren’t you there?” she asked, her eyes pressing into my soul.

I hated that I’d kept all this from her. I’d never kept secrets from my sister.

“I’ve done my part,” I said calmly.

Even after Adam announced that they’d identified and captured the party responsible for the attack, there was still a tear in the country, and it would take a lot of work to repair it.

Us, that wasn’t an option, at least not as far as I could see. It had to end. He was destined to do great things, not only for himself, but for the entire world. I couldn’t be the woman who cost him his second term.

“Are you okay?” Rowena asked, turning down the volume on the TV.

I smiled while I struggled to pull myself together. I wasn’t okay. I knew that, and she knew that. I had to tell her why.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as she quickly moved towards me with open arms. I confessed to the relationship, and to the feelings I was having. “I can’t be the cause to any of his pain,” I cried in my sister’s arms.

“So, you love him?” she asked.

I pulled back, wiped my tears from my cheeks, and nodded. I did. I hadn’t told him, I hadn’t said it aloud, but I did.

“It sounds like he feels the same way about you. He’s not concerned with himself, only you,” she insisted.

“His reputation has been so fragile. I can’t risk him losing a chance at another term, or worse, having the people distrust him during this one,” I sighed.

Adam appeared on the TV screen, pulling Rowena’s attention from me for a moment as she watched and listened. His speech was perfectly delivered just as I’d written it, and he used all the proper body language to portray honesty, strength, and most importantly, humanity.

“It looks like he’s doing just fine,” Rowena said. “Thanks to you,” she added with a smile.

“So, they’ll just hate me. That won’t help anything either. He needs me,” I sighed.

Rowena laughed. “Why would they hate you?” she asked.

“Americans always need a villain,” I argued.

My sister rolled her eyes and tightened her lips as she shook her head. “You’ve spent so much time dealing with negative media; you’ve forgotten what positive media is like,” she said sternly.

I wasn’t sure I understood.

“Americans are humans. Humans love a good story, and trust me, they aren’t always looking for the bad in it,” she insisted.

“This is the government,” I growled.

“How many good stories come from the government?” she laughed.

I couldn’t think of anything.

“Exactly,” she said after my long pause.

“Quinn, you are the best writer, personal marketer, and media spinner I know,” she said.

That was quite the compliment coming from Rowena. She’d worked with writers from all genres, and as an editor, she was trained to see flaws others would miss.

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“I’m saying, if you love him, and he loves you, spin this love story into something amazing like I know you can. Quit hiding from it, embrace it, and give the people what they deserve from the government for once: the truth,” she suggested.

“But what if this love story doesn’t have a happily ever after?” I asked.

“Then you deal with it then. Stay truthful and people will stay loyal,” she advised.

Adam was still answering questions on the screen, all of which I had anticipated and prepped him for. My heart swelled. What if she was right? Could this be something real?

“You both deserve something good in your life,” Rowena said, clicking the TV off as Adam answered his last question. “Did you just see what happened there?” she asked, glancing towards the television.

“What?” I asked, confused about her point.

“I know you well enough to know you spent hours making sure those were the questions asked, and that he knew exactly how to answer them,” she insisted.

She wasn’t wrong. My ear hurt from hours on the phone with networks and papers, talking to the key players about what they were after. I’d planted seeds for weeks, worked out special deals, exclusives, and a bundle of other promises to ensure certain questions would be asked. Adam, as well as the press secretary, had a list of reporters to call upon, and in what order. I couldn’t make them ask anything, or even imply what I wanted them to ask. But I could get into their heads and work my PR magic. Maybe I could do that with Adam and me.