Wolter added, “I give you the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania’s former governor speaking with its presumed soon-to-be governor.”
“My God,” Payne said.
“Well, you can always come up with your own candidate,” Wolter said, and brightened and smiled. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you run, Matt? If you do, I’ll be your campaign manager.”
“Hey, now, that’s not a bad idea,” Wohl said. “You got my vote.”
“Mine, too, baby brother,” Amy Payne said a little too quickly.
“No way. Not no but hell no,” Payne said. “The whole political mind-set is alien to me. I can’t lie like they can, for starters. And what Peter said about being indebted to someone for his support, I refuse. I like having a clear conscience and being able to sleep at night.”
“I expected you to say that,” Wolter said. “But it’s part of my job to test the waters. See who might be looking to do whatever.”
“Really?” Payne said.
“Oh, not just for political office,” she said. “I have powerful clients of all stripes who are always looking for select new people.”
Payne nodded.
“But don’t worry about not running for office,” she went on. “There are plenty who are willing.” She nodded across the room again. “There’s Rapp Badde, for example. He is attending tonight not only because Camilla Rose supported his PEGI, which, in turn, introduced him to new investors for those urban-renewal projects, he’s also here mostly because he had been pitching her to back his run for mayor after Carlucci has moved up the political food chain. He’s been terrified she would back Willie Lane.”
“Jesus,” Payne said. “He’s exactly what this city doesn’t need. His father was a disaster as mayor. Almost as bad as Willie Lane’s old man. Why in hell would she consider supporting either of them?”
“But those two disasters made it easy for Carlucci to get elected,” Wohl said. “Were they bright enough, they might call it a case of unintended consequences.”
“True,” Wolter said. “And it will flip. After eight years of Jerry Carlucci, with the memory of the average Philly voter having a half-life of maybe six months, if not six minutes, another Badde or Lane will slide right in. So, they’re both here because it just looks good for them to be part of this. It gives them a little cachet, and eventually, they hope, a lot of campaign cash, thanks to this chance to network—”
The lights flickered and dimmed.
“Damn,” Payne said. “I was hoping for another explosion.”
“That’s bad, Matt,” his sister said.
“Here comes the big sales pitch,” Aimee Wolter said. “Cross your fingers.”
On a half-dozen projection screens around the big room, Camilla Rose Morgan appeared. The murmuring crowd quieted.
“I’ve seen this video,” Payne said, then added, “I think. Looks a little different. That looks like Pennsylvania.”
“It’s the New Hope camp,” Aimee said. “We just opened it.”
Camilla Rose was clad in the same crisp khaki shorts and white T-shirt, and ball cap with the logotype CAMILLA’S KIDS CAMPS on it, and smiling at the camera. Behind her, a dozen helmet-wearing kids were riding horses along a wide river. Camilla Rose waved as her voice filled the ballroom:
“Hi, I’m Camilla Rose. Welcome to New Hope, the aptly named home to one of my four ACC-accredited camps for children with extreme medical challenges. At each of these twenty-million-dollar wonderlands, sixty kids come every week to experience the excitement of the unexpected.
“Our superb staff counselors, one staffer for every three campers, are rigorously vetted. Our state-of-the-art medical facility features a full-time physician and nurse, plus volunteer doctors and nurses, who specialize in the disease of each week’s group of kids.
“Campers’ needs are constantly monitored. They’re provided their daily medications and procedures—from chemo to dialysis—then they head out for a full day of sun and fun. Here in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, for example, there’s horseback riding, fishing in the Delaware River, crafts workshops, and much more. After dinners, we gather round the campfire for singing and skits and laughs. Lots and lots of the latter, as laughter is the best medicine. Just ask the campers themselves.”
“Similar script to the one I saw on her Florida camp,” Payne said to Wohl. “As I said last time, reminds me a great deal of Scout camp . . . with sick kids. Wait until you see what comes next.”
The image of Camilla Rose was replaced with a young girl with a sweet, engaging smile and very bright eyes and a very bald head.
The girl then said, her voice squeaking with emotion, “I just had to say thank you for the best time I have ever had in my whole life! I didn’t know it was possible to do all the fun things you taught me. I learned so much about staying strong and getting better. Thanks to you, no matter what, I’ll always be a Camilla’s Can-Do Kid forever!”
Camilla Rose came back on-screen.
“Little Heather fought her cancer for four brave years. Then, a month after she became, as she said, a Camilla’s Can-Do Kid forever, she passed away.”