Chapter Thirty-Five

 

"That was a disaster." Adam's voice sounded low and angry, even to him. Almost intimidating, but no more than the worst that he'd ever done. The fact that he had to be so upset, though… that was unexpected. At least, it was unexpected when the evening had begun.

The minute he'd walked out in front of that crowd, he'd known. He'd seen it in their faces. The cheering, the excitement, it wasn't what he expected. It felt off, and he'd known from the first word out of his mouth that they'd tuned it out.

Too much of the same-old routine, not enough change. Not enough surprise to pull them out of their rabid thirst for celebrity gossip. Was this all he'd amounted to? A famous person who was trying to run for President?

Was the only reason that people were drawn to him that celebrity, their chance to see one of their small gods celebrated on the grandest stage of all? There was something in the pit of his stomach that told him that eventually, the sheen would wear thin on that.

He could still win. But he'd have to win as a politician, not as a celebrity that they hoped to get cameras on just one moment longer. The gossip was helping, in its own way, but he had to redirect it.

"I'm sorry, Adam, it was my fault. I should have known better." Linda's eyes don't quite meet his.

Part of him wants to agree with her. She should have known better. But so should he. So should all of them. They weren't going to change the momentum of the country without changing their message.

"Don't beat yourself up," he says softly. His fingers tap on the table. "I want to know what happened, and I want to know how we stop it from happening next time."

"The crowd wasn't hot enough. We needed them to be losing their minds. The first few rallies, they were. But it needs to keep going. We need momentum, and we didn't realize how much that momentum had been sapped by the girlfriend rumors."

"Then why don't we address them?"

"It would just be letting them continue to think of you as a gossip-rag star, rather than a serious Presidential candidate," Linda says. But her heart's not in it. She sounds like she's a little bit shocked by how everything went, altogether, and Adam really can't particularly blame her for feeling that way. "We just have to, I don't know. We have to find some way to get their attention back onto your policies, your politics."

"Tom?"

"We can use your celebrity status, and make the hype grow, sure. But Linda's right. Eventually, we have to pivot towards the Presidential campaign, rather than just growing your personal brand."

Adam looked up at the ceiling and took a breath. Neither of them were saying anything that surprised him. Everyone expected something like that would have to happen, or he'd have to cut and run. Let someone else take the Presidency, because there's only so far that people will vote for a cult of personality.

"Okay, how do we do that?"

"A splash?" Linda sounds unsure of herself as she floats the suggestion. "We come out with something sufficiently interesting that people forget about the little celebrity stuff?"

"Okay, like what?"

Tom is keeping uncharacteristically quiet, Adam notices. He's barely said a thing the entire time. Whatever's got him distracted, if he wants to talk about it, he will. But he's not even dropping hints, really. Not speaking unless spoken to.

"I don't know, maybe… a project?"

"What sort of project?"

"Well—I don't want to step on any toes here."

"Say your piece," Adam says, with a hint of impatience. This isn't the time for Linda to suddenly get cold feet and pretend that she doesn't know what she's talking about. If that was what he wanted, then he'd just have hired anybody. This is weeks too late for her to get starstruck and deferential.

"You've mentioned in passing, a few times, that your company's been working on a space-shuttle program on television?"

"Sure. But it's not ready for full-time."

"No, I know. If it was, I assume you'd have talked about the details. But what if we talked about where that was going? Your plans for the future, to revitalize industry by re-igniting the space race?"

He takes a breath and considers the idea for a moment. "'Space race' implies that you're racing with someone, though. Are we?"

Tom's gravelly voice finally cuts through the dialogue. "We can find someone. That's not a problem. You think this is a good distraction?"

"I don't know," Adam answers honestly. "I suppose it's as good as anything."

"Then we go with it. Give it a few days, and then we go to a smaller crowd. Maybe a press conference, maybe we get on the line with MSNBC."

"Go with the conference. I prefer the crowds."

"Alright, then." Linda scribbles a note on a pad of paper. "I'll have Jay take care of it in the morning."

"Good." Adam takes another breath. The temperature in the room seems to be lowering. No more freaking out. "Then let's get to it. We don't have time to be wasting it here, talking amongst ourselves. I'll get to prepping notes, I'll have them in your hands by tomorrow, Tom. Take a look before we get prepped, and we'll try to have put together by Friday. Sound good?"

It sounded good to him. In his mind, it was as good a plan as they could possibly get. Now if only that plan were going to all work out the way that they wanted, they might really be able to turn this around.

They'd better, or else it was all going to go bad. He couldn't afford another embarrassment like they'd suffered tonight. Not if he wanted to keep the momentum going.

And once the momentum was lost, once they had a few bad nights, it was only going to get worse. Whatever energy they'd managed to gather over the past few weeks would be gone, and his Presidential hopes along with it.