She unbent a little, softened. She had to remember that he had a job to do, over and above what she had. And it wouldn’t be easy joining a new group of players with his reputation. “You promise to behave and to listen to me when you get back?”
“I’m not a child.”
She grinned at him, the tension leaving the area. He glared, then smiled and nodded begrudgingly. “Yes.”
She walked him to his Lexus SUV. “Fine. But don’t make me come up there.”
He snorted, got in his car then peeled out of the parking lot.
Stacia watched him go. She turned to the stadium with a heavy sigh. He wouldn’t change. None of them ever did. They only wanted someone to make it look like they did, clean their image. Reality didn’t matter one bit. She didn’t matter. For once, though, she had a client she thought she could believe in. A man who was a good person underneath, and not just good in bed. How to show that to everyone else, including him? Before she could tackle that job, she had some clean up to do and interviews to reschedule.
Time to duel with the devil.
*
Stacia’s cell phonerang and she jumped. She rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to rub the grit out of them after reviewing Jason Friar’s extensive, and colorful, history for the past, she glanced at her watch, five hours. He was right about one thing; the fans had loved him, despite everything, until he got injured last year. Then all his bad karma came home to roost.
She glanced at the caller ID. About time he called her back. She pressed the answer button. “Hey, Michael. Glad you finally returned my call.”
“Hey, Stace. How does it look?” He spoke breezily, ignoring her sarcasm.
She sat back in her chair and swiveled around to face the back wall and the picture of the team. “He’s a freakin’ train wreck, that’s what he is. A complete disaster. And he has no interest in changing.”
“None of them ever do. And that’s not what we do. We’re not shrinks. We just polish them to make them look nice to the public. A little polish over the rotten core. Who they are and what they do doesn’t matter as long as they don’t get caught.” Irritation laced his tone. He didn’t even bother to hide it. “You know this. So, what’s the problem?”
She twirled a strand of her hair in her finger. What was the problem? She barely knew Jason and couldn’t believe she actually cared about what happened to him. Maybe it was something deeper, something she’d sensed on the campaign with Glazier. That vague sense of discomfort, of knowing that what she was doing wasn’t quite right. That feeling had been growing steadily for the past year or so. Of course, working with dirty, scum-sucking politicians didn’t help her feeling of helping the world.
“Stacia? Are you there?” Impatience rang through his tone, and irritation made his words sharper.
“What? Yes, I’m here, Michael. I guess I’m just feeling a little burnt out.”
Yes, she was tired. Tired of whitewashing dirty politicians. Tired of making bad people look good. Tired of dressing the ugly of the world into pretty little packages. But what else could she do?
“Don’t quit on me now, Kendall! Remember, you need this job.”
A few nights ago, the warning tone in his voice would have sent a chill down her spine. Instead, she only felt tired, a bone deep exhaustion exposed by her recent campaign and the resulting failure. Maybe she should have taken the implied vacation and used the time to examine her life. What would she find? A lonely, sad woman who conned the public into believing the lies and polish she placed on a pile of crap all in the name of a job. Was that what she wanted out of her life?
What about my needs, a tiny voice inside spoke, poking at her consciousness.What about what I wanted, needed, felt?
Then her own words came back to haunt her, the ones she had tossed at Jason earlier that day.
Stop whining. Grow up. Take responsibility for your actions.
Yes, it was time she took her own advice. After this job, maybe it would be time to reconsider.
She sighed. “I’m not quitting, Michael.”
“Fine. Look, I took you on without any experience and you’ve handled yourself pretty well. Your biggest attraction for me is your connections and your ability to work with politicians, but if you can’t get the job done, with a slam dunk like Glazier, then we’re going to have issues and I may need to rethink this relationship. Got it?” Barely skipping a beat, he continued. “Talk to me about Friar. What’s the plan?”
Ignoring the chill of the threat, she whirled back in her chair to the laptop and began debriefing him about the problems and her proposed solution. But the little voice didn’t go away, reminding her of something she had lost a long time ago.
Her conscience.