"Are you kidding me? Do you really think this is the best time to have people sniffing around here?" I whisper yell at Cameron.
This isn't even one fraction of all of the questions I want to ask him. Knowing me once I start I won't ever be able to stop. If the dull look on his face is any indication of what his answers may be then I might actually murder him. Absolutely under no circumstances can I get blood on my new pantsuit. Neither can I risk any murder charges when I am so close to reaching my goals.
"Lennie, relax. You're the best at what you do. I have no worries." He pats me on the shoulder as if this conversation is about what we should eat for dinner. Days like these make me want to go full Britney Spears. Shaved head and all.
Never has he ever taken any accountability for his actions. At this point I doubt he even knows how to. Publicly he is the face of civility. Privately he is the number one rider on the hot mess express. For once I wish he would use some logic at the very least to understand what a total disaster that could have been.
Everything we have put at risk for this campaign to go well almost blew up right in front of our faces. Long hours on the campaign trail, lobbying for votes, and restless nights would mean absolutely nothing. Many of Cameron's staff say I'm a paranoid cynic, while that is likely true it is also my job to be that way. Quite literally I am paid to worry about such things. Even if it weren't the weighted guilt would throw me into obsessive angst.
I can't believe the buffoon has the nerve to be so lax. That should be relatively impossible seeing as not only does he have a campaign to worry about. That coupled with keeping his sordid past from the public. Cameron Dane should have a mansion full of worry.
Charming the public is easy. In my sleep I could make the world fall in love with Cameron. Presenting a dashing smile with a sparkling family did wonders to watchful eyes. It's keeping that affection that is difficult. Appearances are a deceitful bastard, something Cameron has forgotten. This beautiful lie we have the world believing in could be wiped away all with one mistake.
Of course the smug asshole is just brushing it off as if it is nothing. Mommy and daddy will always make these things disappear by way of me. From the time I started my career he has always been a steady client that caused me the most grief. The only reason I'm helping Cameron is because he has been a friend for a long time and our parents are big supporters of one another.
His father wrote me letters of recommendations to not only undergrad but graduate school. When my brother Keith decided he wanted to go into politics he let him intern at his office. Our families held loyal ties.
Each day that passes by makes me reconsider managing the mess Cameron has found himself in. I wanted to help and simply move on to the next part of my life already, but it seems once again Cameron is causing more trouble for me. I didn't have the luxury of just leaving that would only worsen my situation. My reputation would suffer as would my family's relationship with the Dane's.
Our years of friendship couldn't even temper the anger raised by his recklessness. No, his carelessness. Being reckless implies you understand there's a level of risk involved. Treating him with kid gloves never was my thing. My clients are adults who made adult decisions that landed them in their messes. I shouldn't be burdened with the extra work of treating them like children in time out. With Cameron I may have to make an exception to my rule. Adjusting the dynamics between us may be the only way either of us survive. Because this isn't just about a little campaign, it's so much more.
My heart literally plummeted to my ass at seeing the Bianchi family. Introducing us was completely unnecessary on my end seeing as the whole state knows the Bianchi's. You would have to live under a rock not to. Very few people hold notorious reputations such as them. Everyone knows who they are. Really I could have attacked Cameron where he stood when I realized who those men were.
"I can't believe you're so lax about this, you need to be careful. What if the Bianchi's find out about your little secret? You think they'll back you then?" My words are harsh, clearly landing the intended blow. If I weren't blunt with him who would be? Every person pacifies Cameron and his antics. That's exactly how he ended up needing me in the first place.
Cameron's irritation breaks the cool and calm facade he put on."Lennox, let it go. Now is not the time or the place." If we weren't in public I would eat him alive. Judging by the bead of sweat peppering his forehead the paranoia and anxiety he's probably feeling on his own is eating him enough. Serves him right. Still I wish I could punch him just once.
I shove the leather binder into his chest. "I just came to let you know the contracts have been drawn up and a meeting will be set soon." Relief flashes his face before returning back to his placid smile.
"You're the best there is, also your mother told me to tell you to give her a call." My mother. Just who I want to talk about. Note the sarcasm.
"She's so pathetic running to you like that." Since she couldn't reach me herself she had to come bulldozing my work life. You would think she would know if I want to talk to her I would call her my damn self.
His blue eyes sparkle holding amusement in them."Come on Lennox, put her out of her misery." Easy for him to say that as he absolutely adores her.
For some odd reason she holds a soft spot for him. Knowing my mother that is something rare. Like me she has spent part of her life fooling the media with fake smiles. Inside she is a beast ready to prowl at any minute. Equipped to demolish her prey at any second. When it comes to Cameron she truly regards him in high esteem. As if he were me or my brother. Part of me wonders if she wishes she could trade me for him.
"Cameron, I do not want to talk to that woman right now unless absolutely necessary. By that I mean if my life depends on it." Dealing with my mother brings me the same amount of joy as a toothache does. Actually I might prefer the toothache.
"Lennie, call your mother, if you don't you know she'll show up." He sings. Flipping him off discreetly I exit the room. His campaign staff doesn't care for my presence, but I'm not there for them. Yes, I'm bossy, and naggy, and generally a know it all, but I get the intended results. A fact that his half-brained team and staff conveniently forget. They're all just upset that I don't have to answer to him instead I get to boss him around myself.
In my Escalade I debate whether or not to call my mother. Chanel Klein is not an easy person to deal with, she's much more of an acquired taste. Arsenic to be exact. When she wants something she gets it. I do not need her showing up to my house or even worse my job.
On the third ring she finally answers as if she hasn't been hounding me down. "The daughter who I so graciously gave a home in my womb for nine months then sprouted from my birth canal finally calls her mother back." That's how we're starting the conversation, great.
"Sorry mom for inconveniencing you with my work schedule. As far as my previous housing arrangements it's not as if I asked to be there." We could do this all day.
"Mhmm." She should copyright the phrase as only she could take the simplicity of a Mhmm and make it feel so loaded.
Her mood can be felt through the phone. The only way to appease her is to go and see the woman. Gosh she likes attention too much for any of our good.
We make small talk while I drive towards her house even though she's not expecting me. Getting off the exit I drive the singular road until I arrive at the over the top home.
Chanel and Michael Klein always had to have the best of the best. My childhood home reflected that in every way. The gray ranch-style estate is massive in size and grandeur. The stables on the other side of the property are just as vast as the equestrian style home itself.
In all her effervescent beauty mom opens the door after I ring the bell. As annoying as my mother could be I could never deny the beauty that she is. Rich brown skin and full lips colored in her signature red wine, my mom could put supermodels to shame with her long legs and perfectly angled face. If she hadn't been so agile in the courtroom she could have been the face of Vogue. Today she wears a perfect top knot bun and an off white dress.
"What a lovely surprise it is to see you, Lennox." Mom pulls me into the house, probably thinking I would run off. Which is not such a farfetched conclusion. "Nice of you to come visit, especially after making me hunt you down."
Absent-mindedly I step through the entryway. "Mom, you know I'm busy." And avoiding you.
Mom's face twists as if she's eating a lemon. "Yes, I understand electing a senator to office is hard work, but I'm still your mother" Yeah and a pain in my ass.
Forcing my mouth to not say something that will start an argument I concede. "Sorry mom. I will do better. Now what have you been up to recently?" The simple question prompts her to regale of all things Chanel Klein. Hosting charity events, keeping New York's socialites in check, all while looking fabulous. The women of high society were, if not anything else, exhausting. Just hearing about it made me never want to attend another event with any of them there.
For mom this is orgasmic, putting people in their place and being top dog is something she's always done and done well. Few have tried to stampede mom out of her HBOS (Head Bitch Of Society) position. None have succeeded much to her chagrin.
"Lennox you're staying for dinner right?" The look she gives me let me know this is not an actual question. It wasn't part of my plan but it seems I have no choice in the matter. Dinner with both my parents is better than just the one.
"Of course, mother" I bat my eyelashes at her.
"Great, your father would love to see you." At this I genuinely smile.
My father and I have always been close. Unlike my mom he doesn't nag me. Nor does he force himself to be in my business. He understands that I am a grown woman. My mother too often lets her disappointment show. She expected me to be married with at least two children under my belt. Socialite culture isn't the future I wanted for myself. Getting a ring and popping out babies isn't the only two goals.
"Dinner should be done in about an hour. Go wash up."I leave my mom in the bright tea room and follow the stairs to my childhood room.
One thing I do appreciate about my mother is her inability to let things go. My room is still the same as it has been since I was fifteen. Pastel blue walls with posters filled with photos and momentos. My debate team awards and junior ambassador pins are all in the same place that I left them. Rarely do I ever come in here but everytime I do I realize how much has changed, so much except for this room. It keeps me grounded.
Quickly washing my face and hands. The aroma of baked chicken hits my nose the minute I reach the bottom floor. It's as if I am floating towards the dining room, I don't even feel my feet move. Chestnut furniture is properly placed. Each plate is already filled much to my delight.
A brawny golden brown hand blocks me from pulling out my seat. "Isn't it a man's job to pull out a lady's chair for her?" My arms swing around and tighten around my fathers thick neck. Hugging him feels like home. Snowy Christmas Days. Summers in the pool. It feels like all the good in the world is shining down on me at once.
"Ah, let go Lennox you are going to kill your father holding so tight." Mom rolls her eyes at my giddiness.
"My baby girl, it is so nice for you to join us for dinner. To what do we owe the pleasure?" he asks, pulling out my seat and then his own.
"Oh, I just missed home, that's all." Mom scoffs at my lies but neither I or my father pay attention to her.
"It's always good to be home." Dad's baritone voice washes a calmness over me. I take the moment to look at him, his caramel skin has some hair on his arms. Still he is well put together. My mother wouldn't have it any other way. His beard has been trimmed since the last time I saw him. "I hear you're heading Cameron's campaign."
"It's been..tedious. I don't know how the man keeps finding himself in trouble. Now he's trying to work with the Bianchi's."
"Wow, I would think that would be a good move for his campaign." Mom chimes in.
Of course she is right which makes the circumstances even worse. Everyone knows the Bianchi name and the weight that it carries. If Cameron does anything to mess it up his family's name would be ruined.
The Dane's last name holds weight. Especially in New York. A political family holding various positions in office for many generations. Their lineage is cemented in that area. Still in comparison to the Bianchi's it pales. The Bianchi have a further reach dabbling in various industries. Healthcare, real estate, education, even entertainment. The public can't get enough of them, they're an allusive family which plays into their allure. As much as the public would like to believe to know them they still don't.
"It would be if he didn't keep getting in trouble. If the Bianchi's find out his track record, well he can kiss them goodbye. Especially after this latest scandal, you know they don't operate like that." I bite into my chicken hoping this conversation will end soon.
Mom boasts a megawatt smile on her face. "That's why he has you honey." Typical of her to take up for Cameron. He causes her only daughter an immense amount of displeasure, yet that has no bearing on her view of him.
"I would rather not talk about work right now."
"Of course, it is time for another conversation." I roll my eyes at wherever she's taking this. If I know her the way that I'm sure I do. This conversation will end up somewhere where I will want to stab myself with my fork."There is an upcoming gala, I would love for you to attend. Cameron is coming with Marie. This will be a great opportunity to get your face out there and solidify more relationships. If not for you for the campaign honey." I huff a breath of irritation. I did not stay here for this. "Don't you agree Michael?"
"It isn't the worst idea in the world. Lennox think on it. Chanel eat." I mouth a thank you to my father. This is why he's my favorite.
The rest of dinner went well and we stayed on lighter topics mostly. All until my mother decided to bring up one of her friends Alice's daughter's wedding. That prompted her to go into how much she wants for me to get married. Then she goes off on a tangent about the type of wedding she'll want for me and the guest list. By the end I wanted to get married right then just so she would shut up.
Dad was able to distract her by asking about the high tea party she's hosting. That quickly backfired because she harassed me until I agreed to attend. Blech. It wasn't until I was in the doorframe that she stopped nagging and hugged me goodbye.
My parents' figures hugging tightly are the last images I see of them before driving myself home. The two couldn't be more different from each other but somehow they just worked. There was never a time the two weren't working in tandem with each other. I always assumed that was what life would be. Finding a partner and just riding off into the sunset, babies, white picket fence, the whole nine yards. It hasn't happened for me yet. Maybe it never will. Men always found me desirable until they realized I'm not just a pretty trophy to be admired.
Being secure in my loneliness is hard. It's the moments where I'm alone and all I can do is watch. I watch the families that walk by my building, some with their dogs. Taunting me with their happiness. A fact I would always keep secret. Misery loves company and I had never understood that until I turned twenty-seven with no ties to life. Some people just don't deserve love. They're not good enough, worthy enough, or even strong enough for it. I've come to realize I am one of those people.