But at the heart of the matter, I think both sides can agree that it was always a question of who was able to portray the greatest job as a leader. The family man with the ability to let a sprawling city of 8 million get out of his control, or the billionaire scion of a media company who brings a corporate mentality to everything he touches.
New Yorkers are going to have to make a choice and they have about six months to do it. Those six months are going to be crucial to figure out what kind of man the citizens of Gotham want leading their city.
Keep your eyes open to this paper and your ears to the ground, my fellow New Yorkers. Till we hear more, this is Amanda Adams signing off. Keep your ears open, New York.
Lance
There are cheers coming from the crowd of supporters. Posters with the words "Anders for Mayor" are being waved. I watch as my stepfather takes the podium, waving to the crowd. "Thank you! Thank you all for your support," he says into the microphone. "I am joined today by my loving family," he says, pointing to both Jocelyn and I with his palm outstretched. "My beautiful wife, Jocelyn, and my son, Lance, I love you both, and as we gather here today I know there are many things on all of our minds—National Security, the economy, advances in technology, among other issues, but I want us to never lose sight of what is most important, and that is the love and devotion of family."
With that, the crowd cheers even more and I try my best not to roll my eyes. Who is he fucking trying to fool? When was family ever his top priority? But I get it. He needs to play this up to win favor in an already tight mayoral campaign.
And then he continues, "It's been said before, but is worth repeating here. The love of family is life's greatest blessing. Love, trust, sacrifice, helpfulness, respect, and commitment should not be taken lightly, but valued and held high. Today, and every day, you should be thankful for your family. Your family is priceless and being a part of it means that you're a part of something very special and wonderful, and bigger than yourself. Strong, healthy, loving, and nurturing families form the basis of our future! Let's never forget that New York!"
I see he's really fucking laying it on thick—like peanut butter thick—and the crowd is going wild. I mean it. They're really eating this shit up. Especially with the thin margin of victory during the last election, he knows he needs to push this issue not just with his supporters, but with his opponents as well, to cover his ass. I look over at Jocelyn to see if I can detect any hint of emotion from her face, but she's standing stoically, looking ahead, smiling, clapping, and for all outward appearances, playing the part of the Mayor's happy and devoted wife. She looks perfectly put together. I don't fucking blame her. Play the game or get eaten. But she notices that I'm looking at her and she whispers, "We can't keep doing this, Lance."
It's what I don't want to hear. I mean, I know she's right, but I can't seem to bring myself to admit it. Why is it that I want this woman so fucking bad? I can have any woman I want. Why this one?
"I know," I whisper back, but even when I say it, we both look at each other in a way that suggests we only half believe what we're actually saying.
"I'm a married woman; we need to take a break from each other," she continues at a soft whisper.
"But how do you stay with him? I've seen the way he doesn't even look at you at home. It's like you don't exist."
"I owe it to my father to make this marriage work. It goes beyond just Michael and I, you know. Like I said, a lot of people are depending on me. And besides, Michael isn't a bad man. I don't have a terrible life with him."
"So, you're saying you're happy living in the same house with a man who doesn't love you? A man who refuses to show you the affection you deserve? A man who won't so much as touch you?"
As soon as I say that, I regret it. I know I've struck a sensitive nerve because there's a pained look on her face.
Instead of answering my questions, she says, "You're young, so much younge
r than I am. What could we possibly have in common, in the grand scheme of it all? And besides, you're my son. Albeit, my stepson, but can't you understand that this is an impossible situation that we've found ourselves in?"
Of course she's right. I fucking know she's right, but it kills me to admit it. I hate it. Instead of responding, I let her words sit in my mind and I look ahead and listen as my stepfather wraps up his speech, driving home his point even further, "Instead of just talking about family values, let's start really valuing those closest to us and make a difference in the generations to come. As your Mayor, I promise to uphold these values both publically and privately, and together, I know we will bring the real meaning of family back to modern families here in New York."
Hearing him say these things is almost unbelievable. I know as soon as he gets home tonight, he won't heed his own advice. He won't so much as look at Jocelyn and I. He'll have the TV on, or disappear into his study. I watch as he waves to his supporters again amid cheers, and then steps away from the podium. Staffers are now making their rounds through the crowded room, handing out handshakes and pats on the shoulders to supporters. I see that my stepdad has his eyes on one staffer in particular, a young, dark-haired man. He must be new because I don't recognize him. He's broad chested with well manicured hair, and he stops him for a quick moment. They are standing a few feet from Jocelyn and I.
"Do you work for UPS or something?" he asks the staffer.
"I'm not sure what you mean, sir?"
"Well, I could've sworn I saw you checking out my package just now," he says in a bold and brazen tone. He's smiling so big that I can see his teeth.
"I see," the staffer says, smiling in parallel when he understands the euphemism. He seems to immediately warm up, "In that case, I just may be the delivery driver you're looking for."
I can hardly believe what I'm seeing and hearing. A minute ago, my stepdad was pointing to Jocelyn and I, talking on and on about family values, and now here he is, hitting on a staffer. Actually, I shouldn't be surprised at all. I mean, I know him all too well, but what's shocking is that he's willing to do this at a public event, and risk making himself look like an ass. I'm trying not to stare. I mean, honestly, if he wants to continue to fuck up his marriage and throw away a woman as gorgeous as Jocelyn, I say let him. I'll gladly fucking step in, but I can tell Jocelyn is hurt. She's hearing this too, and is trying to pretend as if she isn't, but it's pretty fucking obvious as we continue to hear him. It only confirms what I've already told her—Michael is gay.
The staffer extends his arm and ever so slightly brushes his hand against my stepdad's suit. "By the way, I love this suit; it looks great on you, but I must admit, I'm curious to see what it would look like crumpled on the floor of your limo. My name is Kenneth, in case you don't remember… I'm sure you'll be screaming that out later."
Michael is licking his lips, and I don't mean that figuratively. He's really fucking licking his lips. He responds with a hungry smile, whispers something into the waiter's ear, which elicits another smile, and then he walks over to Jocelyn and I.
"You two go ahead and ride in the next limo together," he says, only giving us a cursory glance. "I'll go ahead and catch the one right after."
We nod, but don't respond. I mean, what's there to say? We all know what he means by that, but Jocelyn and I do as he says and proceed like nothing is amiss.
A limo pulls up within minutes. I open the door and usher her in first. She steps in, one slender, heeled foot after the other. She hasn't said a word for a while, and instead keeps looking off into the distance as if she's deep in thought, but as soon as the door closes, I watch her push up the divider that separates us from the driver. As soon as she does this, my heart begins to hammer in my chest. What's she doing?
I don't know what to say, and I honestly can't keep my eyes off of her—her perfect breasts cupped in a sexy back dress that hugs her like a second skin, and her legs that beg me to run my hands between them. Fuck, my cock is twitching just looking at her. It has a mind of it own. And then she does the unexpected; she sits right next to me, and carefully places her hand on my thigh. He right breast is nestled against my arm, and I can feel her warmth and smell her perfume—a delicate rose fragrance that only heightens her femininity. My entire body is buzzing with anticipation.