I Heard A Rumor (28 page)

Sitting at a table in the middle of Starbucks, Liza Palmer pushed her steaming caramel latte aside and focused her ebony stare on her friend, Robert Montgomery, as he explained why he was going to run for North Carolina Senate Seat Forty-Five. His brown eyes sparkled with passion as he talked about serving the people and that look ignited her like a firecracker. “Yes! I think you will be a great senator and I know some people who can help us build a buzz around you. This is just awesome, Robert. I can't wait to . . .”

“Slow down,” Robert said. “You're talking as if I'm one of the brands you represent.” She frowned at him and Robert threw his hands up. “Not saying what you do isn't serious, but I don't think marketing me like a cashmere sweater is going to work. People are going to have to connect with me and know that I'm going to Raleigh to represent their best interests.”

Liza rolled her eyes and toyed with the lid of her cup. “Of course not, but a grassroots campaign got Barack Obama into the White House. You need a Twitter account, Facebook fan page, and website where people donate to your campaign.” Liza pulled out her iPad and started taking notes. Robert laughed.

“You take that thing everywhere, don't you?”

She nodded. “Got to stay connected. You know who would be a great campaign manager for you: Dominic Hall. He has been behind some of the biggest campaigns in the city and the state. Remember that contentious fight for the chairmanship of the board of county commissioners? Dominic was behind the winner. And he systematically shut the other guy down.”

“Funny you should say that,” he said. “Nic and I met this morning and he agreed to work with me.”

“Awesome! But you still need me.”

Robert placed his hand on top of hers. “I know. One thing I know for sure is that you have my back for real. Together we're going to be unstoppable.”

“That's right, Senator Montgomery. Now, about your social media life. Do you tweet?”

“As the law firm, but I don't have a personal account. I don't understand that whole Twitter thing.”

“Good, I'll be happy to explain it to you. More people get their news from Twitter than the local TV stations. So, you kind of need to get on board,” she said, then stroked her cheek. “Your personal life is going to be under a microscope—especially because you're single. Anything or anyone out there with an ax to grind?”

“Did you just say ‘anything'?”

Liza rolled her eyes and flipped her shoulder-length auburn tresses back. “I've seen some of the women you've dated, Rob. ‘Anything' was being kind.”

“And you don't have much room to talk. Remember your thug life stage? You really can't hold my hood rat phase in college against me.”

Liza giggled. “Where did you import those hood boogers from? I wasn't aware of a hood within walking distance to Chapel Hill.”

“See, you can't be saying stuff like that.” He looked around the semi-full coffee shop to make sure no one was paying them any attention.

“Well, if you're running as a single candidate, you need to be seen with a higher class of woman.”

“Are you suggesting a fake relationship?” he asked, raising his right eyebrow. A frown marred his handsome cocoa brown face.

“No, people would see through that like glass. I'm suggesting you meet some nice ladies at my dinner party on Saturday, which you didn't RSVP for.”

“I'll be there.”

“When are you filing?” Liza asked.

“Dominic and I are going to discuss that tomorrow. I need a war chest and Dominic said he has a list of donors willing to help.”

“What platform are you running on?” Liza asked in between sips of her cold latte. “You really need to consider the problems in the district. There are three issues getting military family behind you and . . .”

“Business development is my main thing. I know the military's important, but Charlotte and the surrounding area need jobs.”

“Yeah,” she said, then drummed her French-tipped fingernails on the lid of her cup. “But people are wary of politicians who are for big business. You need to play up your roots.”

Robert's handsome face darkened. “I don't want to be some sad-sack politician that people are drawn to because of their shortcomings.”

“Whoa! You're starting to sound like a Republican.”

“No, you're misunderstanding what I'm saying. I'll acknowledge everyone who helped me, but I'm not going to tell the state and the world that I was born to a crackhead who left me at a fire station.”

Liza held her tongue; she knew how hurtful Robert's past was. But the public relations professional inside her knew people would cheer for a man who came from absolutely nothing to go on and breeze through college, then law school. Maybe he'd listen to Dominic about telling his story. “Anyway,” she said, “I am so proud of you, Rob. I remember when we were in that political science class together and you did that mock campaign for president. I knew two things that day.” She brought her cup to her lips and took a final sip of her latte.

“What?”

“That you'd be president one day and I wasn't going to get a degree in political science.”

“President, huh?” Robert smiled and Liza knew his picture-ready smile would win hearts even if he didn't talk about his past. “You expect a lot from me, huh?”

“Actually, I do,” she said, then pushed her cup away. “I believe in you, Rob. And I don't say that lightly. You're the embodiment of the American dream and the people of North Carolina will be lucky to have you.”

“Great, that means I have one vote.”

“You'll have more than one vote. How many people are going to be in the primary, I wonder,” she said, then looked down at her iPad as it chimed. “Oh, hate to run, but I have a meeting in twenty minutes with the Hornets' new player relations manager.”

“There you go, moving and shaking things in the city,” Robert said as he watched his friend collect her things.

“Next, we're going to move and shake this election.” Liza gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then dashed out the door.