Executive Engagement - Page 232

However, despite the unorthodox manner in which Mayor Jeffries has conducted himself, his approval ratings have climbed steadily throughout his first term in office and the addition of 10,000 jobs makes many observers believe that they will only climb despite the attempts of his many enemies. Indeed, from the way his plan was presented, it invariably begs the question as to how the town will react to this bad boy mayor as more jobs from the Boltiador deal begin pouring in.

But before there is any real celebration, observers warn that the jobs may never come in the first place. That’s because of recently passed environmental laws that are seen by many to be the signature legislation of Governor Carter Andrews, the Democratic governor.

The New York State Clean Air and Water Act would raise standards on emissions as well as increasingly regulate and place pollution controls. These would be sufficient to not allow the Boltiador factories from being built in the first place. When asked to comment on this possibility, Liam Jeffries was nonchalant as he commented, "If the Governor wants to sit there and tell me that 10,000 jobs can’t come to my town because of some law to protect some owls or shit, I’ll bring them anyways and just tell him to go fuck himself."

It remains to be seen what the Governor’s response will be.

Carter

The city of New Kingston is roughly 56 miles away from New York City and it still manages to piss me off somehow. And all because of that bastard, Liam Jeffries. I didn’t really intend to come here today, but since I’m on my way from Albany to New York City, I figured I could take a few minutes of my time to tell the Mayor to start toeing the line.

After all, it’s not every day that a small town Mayor of a sleepy suburb tells the Governor of the state to ‘fuck off’.

I don’t usually swear. I think it shows that you have nothing to talk about. That you’re a weak man. But Liam is in a whole different category by himself. Someone should really just punch him in the face and set him straight. What a sorry excuse for a Republican.

Yeah, he’s got a reputation, and not a good one at that. Cocky and full of himself, most politicians in New York find him almost impossible to deal with. But that’s exactly what I do for a living: as Governor of New York, I spend most of my days dealing with assholes like him. Yeah, you got that right on the first try: I’m the Governor of the state of New York, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow a guy like Liam to ignore the law. Or tell me to fuck off. In a way, he’s like a whiny brat who's found his way to the Mayor’s seat. But if that bastard thinks he can do as he pleases, he’s in for a surprise. If need be, I’ll beat some sense into his thick skull.

"We’re here, sir," my driver tells me, stopping the car in front of New Kingston’s City Hall. The building towers over us, its wide columns giving it the semblance of an old roman palace. The dome at the top gives it a royal flair, and somehow, it seems fitting—Liam Jeffries thinks of himself as a king. Unfortunately for him, the real world has come knocking on his door, and I’m its messenger.

The black SUV from my security detail parks behind us, and my men get out of the car in a hurry, eager to secure the perimeter. I don’t bother with waiting; I step out of my car immediately, eager to get this over with. Jack, the head of security looks at me with a resigned expression; he already knows how little I care about protocol. In the end, though, he respects the fact that I only care about getting shit done.

Stretching my legs, I take a deep breath as I gaze at the building in front of me. I didn’t remember it being this imposing, but then again, I haven’t been back to New Kingston in a few years.

I straighten my cuffs and button my jacket as I walk up the stairs toward the main entrance; there are a few people leaving the building, and they all turn their heads to look at me. Some people are just wondering about the security apparatus, but most of them are just surprised that governor Carter Andrews is dropping by unannounced. If I scheduled my visit through the regular channels, I’m sure there’d already be a cadre of journalists waiting for me, and as far as I’m concerned, the less the spotlight is on me the better. I’m not in this for the fame, and I don’t care about the attention; I care about getting the job done. That’s what I was elected for.

Even though I despise the spotlight, it’s impossible for me to get rid of all the superfluous attention. I became, after all, New York’s youngest Governor in history at the age of 29. If you add the fact that I’m worth $730 million dollars, all from tech companies I built after serving in Iraq, and keep in shape by working out every single day… Well, you know where I’m going with this.

Yeah, okay. I've got the 8-pack abs. I've got the pecs. I’ve never done it before, but other women have measured my cock. I mean really measured it, not just putting it in their mouths to call it measuring. They tell me I’m 12 inches, base to tip.

It seems the ladies love that.

Being single doesn’t help matters too; judging by all the attention women’s magazines give me, my marital status seems like a big deal. To be honest, I don’t really mind the attention women devote to me ... as long as that doesn’t get in the way of my job. I’m more than willing to sleep with hot women, but if they think I’ll put them up on a pedestal, they’re mistaken.

If they think I’ll sacrifice my time from this job to satisfy their desire for a boyfriend, they’re a bit mistaken.

They don’t know who I am if they think that.

And who exactly am I?

I’m the man who won the Governor’s race two years ago. I passed signature legislation that will have a direct and material change on the people of this State, which will let them live longer.

Despite all of this, I don’t play who I am up to the media. I can’t exactly say the same about the King of New Kingston, though. Prancing around like royalty and cutting deals like an Emperor, this bastard must think himself above the law. Too bad that, as far as he’s concerned, I’m the law.

"Governor Andrews," calls out a petite blonde woman, a pile of folders clutched close to her chest. I stop, looking at her as she takes a deep breath and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Judging by her white button up shirt and professional tight skirt, she seems to be part of the Mayor’s entourage. "I’m here to take you to the Mayor’s office," she says, her cheeks flushing the moment we lock eyes. "The… the Mayor already knows you’re here, and he’s waiting for you!"

"Good," I tell her, politely smiling, "I’m on a tight schedule, so just lead the way."

Her cheeks flush even more and she looks down at her feet, trying to avert my gaze. Eventually, she turns on her heels and I follow after her. We walk to the second floor and she takes me down a hallway, stopping in front of two wooden double doors, a grand entrance to the Mayor’s office.

"Go ahead, Governor," she tells me, stepping aside with a coy smile. I look at her with a wide smile, reading the eagerness all over her face. I’d just have to say the word and she’d be on her knees in a heartbeat. But I didn’t come here to allow myself to get distracted; I have a job to do.

"Thank you," I tell her, and reach for the handle of the door and turn it. I step inside the office, my pupils widening in response to the dim light inside: the curtains are drawn, and aside from a lamp in the corner, the lights are out. Standing behind a massive oak desk is Liam Jeffries, the infamous New Kingston mayor. He has his feet propped up on the desk, his hands behind his head, and a lazy grin on his face. I didn’t exactly expect a warm reception, but this is almost too much. I have the sense that he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me.

"Here he is—the wonder Governor in the flesh, Carter Andrews!" he says merrily, taking his feet from the desk and standing up. He draws the curtains, sunlight streaming into the room and filling it with a warm gentle light. Squinting his eyes, Liam extends me his hand. "Sorry, late night yesterday," he tells me, not bothering to hide the fact that his late night had nothing do with work. He has "hangover" written all over his face. Not that it surprises me; from the stories I’ve heard, Liam lives for two things only: pussy and liquor.

"I figured as much," I say, shaking his hand firmly. I can do without all the formality most politicians love so much, but Liam’s casual ways just manage to piss me off. After all, I didn’t come here to be his buddy. I came with a warning.

"So, what brings such a busy man to my humble office?" he asks, sitting back down on his chair and pointing to the other one in front of the desk, offering me a seat. I sit, unbuttoning my jacket, and prepare my words.

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