The Kingmaker

And I can.

“I know your secret, Mr. Cade.” I tip up on my toes and whisper in his ear. “You love Maxim most.”

When I step back, a vein bisects his forehead like a lightning bolt. The anger swirls around him, cyclonic and forceful. If Maxim’s own words didn’t convince me how much he cares for me, his father’s response does.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Your other son needs me.”

I open the door, step inside the room, and close the door in Warren Cade’s face. A deep breath settles me and clears my mind of the unpleasant encounter before I approach Owen. He’s seated on the bed, iPad beside him, and he looks perfectly at ease. He’s a natural. He doesn’t just poll well; he is a good man. He’ll be good for our country. He’ll unite us,

but still be uncompromising for the people who deserve defending.

“You ready?” I ask, stepping into the room.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” His smile is a little weary, but I’ve seen him in action enough to know when the lights come on, so does he. He’ll bring the energy we need.

“Tonight has already been a huge success, and your announcement is gonna top it off in the best way possible. After this, it’s a whole new ballgame, and we’re ready to play.”

Owen nods, smiles, but there’s a sobriety to his expression.

“Sure you’re okay, Owen?” I touch his shoulder and frown.

“Yeah, I’m good.” His smile is meant to reassure me. “It’s a tremendous amount of responsibility, and I’ve been preparing all my life for this, but tonight it’s more real than it’s ever been. I’ve seen how power corrupts, and I never want to be that. You know?”

Still feeling the sting of his father’s barbs, I do know what power misused looks and feels like. “The fact that you even think about this means you won’t do it. Hold onto that and surround yourself with people who won’t let you get away with it.”

“I’m glad I’ve surrounded myself with you and Kimba. Keep me accountable?”

“That you don’t have to worry about.” I tell him with a smile.

The door opens and Millicent and the twins stand there.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.

“No, we’re just wrapping up.” I look to Owen. “Kimba and I and the whole team are here for you. Let us know if you need anything. We have about ten minutes before you’ll take the stage.”

When I return to the main room, I check with our producer that the cameras are set up and ready to record Owen’s announcement. We’ll push it out on social media immediately.

I glance up and find Maxim’s eyes set on me. It’s a cool night in San Francisco, but when our gazes connect, a blast of heat covers my entire body. His eyes leave mine to fall over me—my breasts and hips and thighs, all the way to my feet. He takes his time retracing the path back up and over each dip and curve until he’s looking into my eyes again. I don’t nod or smile, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

He emanates power—the physical power of his muscles and strong body subdued by the expensive clothing made to mold his form. He carries a magnetic aura that draws senators, congressmen, ambassadors—all want a piece of him for the wealth he’s acquired and the influence he wields. There’s the power of his mind, that sharp tool he’s honed to build an empire from scratch without his father’s assistance through a series of risks only a buccaneer would hazard. And finally, there’s the power he seems to have over me—a visceral, personal force that knows how to tempt me, that fascinates and mesmerizes me. All the others he’s carefully cultivated, but the power he holds over me, I think it’s effortless.

His assistant tugs on his arm drawing his attention away, and I take the opportunity to move as if released from a trance.

“Biggest night of the campaign so far,” I mutter to myself. “and you’re mooning over the candidate’s brother.”

When the moment arrives, it’s obvious Owen was made for it. He takes the stage, his wife and twins standing with him.

“I want to thank all of you for coming tonight,” he says with a smile that encompasses the entire room. “I’m sure you had a dozen places you could have been to bring in the New Year, but you chose to be here with my family and me.”

He turns to the right where we have strategically grouped most of the college leaders. I look to the back of the room and catch our producer’s eye, silently signaling him to make sure we get all those young, eager faces on camera for B-roll later. He nods and speaks into his headset.

“And a special thanks to all the young leaders who came on buses, trains, in caravans from all across the country to be with us tonight.” Owen gestures to the cluster of students who, as I knew they would, cheer as loudly as if Owen is scoring a touchdown instead of making a political speech. “Your energy and foresight and compassion are the things that will secure our future. I just hope us old folks don’t screw it up too badly before you get it.”

More cheers, and Kimba and I put our heads close together to whisper, identifying which of them it will be good to get reactions from after the announcement.

“When I started in the Senate ten years ago, I had that same energy and enthusiasm for getting things done,” Owen says, a rueful grin tipping one side of his mouth. “It’s easy to lose sight of our dreams and of the things that motivated us to public service in the first place when we get trapped in bureaucracy and political infighting. Being around you reminds me why it’s so important we never stop striving for the best of ourselves and of this country.

“Many of you may have heard rumors of my possible presidential run,” he says with a chuckle. “I know. Rumors in DC? Hard to believe. I’m confirming tonight that I have formed a presidential exploratory committee.”