href="#litres_trial_promo">Chapter Ten
“Let me get this straight. Your family values candidate, the United States Congressman, who is the paragon of conservatism, gets caught by his wife having an affair with a hooker, who used to be a man in a previous life. But wait, there’s more! Said Congressman was bent over the hooker’s knee being spanked with a riding crop, while he’s wearing a pink tu-tu, and you want to know how we can spin this?” Lexi Harlow shoved her shoulder-length red tangles behind her ears as she stared at the speakerphone.
“Lexi, you’re in charge of our public relations. I thought you might have a suggestion to make this situation disappear.”
She rubbed her temples as she glanced at the one-word front page headline of The New York Post, which featured a cartoon of the Congressman and read Giddyup. It told her that her biggest client was history and serious money problems were on the way. “You wanna make this disappear? Try looking in the Yellow Pages under magicians.”
“Be serious, Lexi. I’m the New York state party chairman and we need to make this go away.”
“Go away? Todd, that barn door has sailed. The Congressman is a national joke. No one can make this go away. He’s toast. And please don’t use the typical politician excuse and call it an error in judgment and have his wife sing the stand-by-your-man tune.”
“How about something saying we’re being a more inclusive party?”
She rolled her emerald green eyes. “Sure, we’ll call it the rainbow coalition for prostitutes. Look, Todd, I like you and have enjoyed working with you. But trust me, this one is un-fixable. Every other PR person in town will tell you the same thing. The guy is radioactive.” She looked up and saw her assistant standing in the doorway. “And I gotta go. My advice to you is to have the man resign and get him off the front page and the late night talk shows before it does more damage to the party and the future candidates you will hopefully send me next year.”
She heard the man sigh. “Lexi, I’m sorry this happened. I know you just started your agency and how much work you put into the campaign. And your work was terrific.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“If it weren’t so close to election day, I’d get you another account, but everything is set. But I promise I’ll have something for you next year.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, if you do think of anything, give me a call.”
“Sure. Hang in there, Todd. Bye.” She hit the button on her speakerphone, shook her head, leaned back in her chair and stretched out her five-foot-five frame as she turned to her assistant. “What?”
“And good morning to you too.” Chandler, her tall, British, slender thirty-year-old assistant moved into her office, took a seat opposite her desk and studied her face with his pale blue eyes as he swept his mop of sandy hair out of his face. “From your current expression along with the front page of The Post I would surmise there was a significant amount of ammonia covering the rolled bits of grain in your morning meal.”
“Chandler, I know you’re smarter than me and like showing it off, but next time just say you look like someone pissed in your corn flakes.”
He shrugged and offered a slight smile. “This from the woman who just said that barn door has sailed.”
“Fine,
