Joy’s rudeness but a tad chagrined. Out publicly for mere hours and the new candidate was already trying to steal some of his shine. “I’ll be on my way. Monique.” He held out his hand. “I look forward to a fair, friendly, yet hard-fought race.”
“You can count on it,” Monique replied as Joy chuckled.
Niko nodded at both women, then turned the corner into the shop’s main room. Soon, thoughts of what had just occurred were forgotten as he engaged the roomful of women in conversation. His topics shifted along with his personality; he was slightly flirtatious yet professional, down-to-earth yet knowledgeable, highbrow yet practical. Yes, this was a beauty shop, but some of the questions coming at him were intellectual and well thought out while others were simple and straightforward.
“We need more affordable housing,” one woman boasting big plastic rollers said. “Everyone isn’t wealthy like you. Do you have a plan for dealing with us regular folk?”
“What is your name, ma’am?”
“Diane,” she stated with a smile.
“First of all, that is a very good question,” he began after addressing her personally and embracing rather than running from the issue of his wealth. “The fact that my family has been very successful in the area of local real estate puts me in the very unique position of being able to personally help oversee this task. As many of you know, Drake Realty has been around almost as long as this town has been incorporated. We’ve worked hard to present a variety of living options based on consumer needs. As our town has grown and expanded, so has the diversity of its citizens. One of our latest projects was designed with this changing demographic in mind. The Seventh Heaven complex offers competitively priced housing, including condominiums, for our middle-income citizens. Now we’re turning our focus to apartment buildings, for those in the low-to-mid-income range. I can’t guarantee how large a supply we’ll have at this level, but I do know that there will be some opportunity for renters, and those who’d like to buy a lower-priced home will have more variety from which to choose.”
“Monique.” The woman behind Diane looked over Niko’s shoulder. He wasn’t aware she’d come back into the main salon room. “Where do you live?”
“I purchased one of those middle-income condominiums that Niko spoke of,” Monique answered. “In Seventh Heaven. Yet I’m also all too familiar with the myriad of families and working people who can’t afford the homes in my neighborhood, and others for whom a community such as Golden Gates may as well be in Beverly Hills for the likelihood of their living there. In my practice as a defense attorney, I know what poverty and lack of opportunity can do for a neighborhood and to a soul. Paradise Cove is a beautiful part of California’s landscape, and I’m here to ensure that every citizen, from the richest to the poorest, gets the chance to enjoy what you can currently afford, and to provide the resources so you can aim even higher.”
“Ms. Slater is absolutely correct,” Niko countered, using a debate tactic whereby the debater agreed with their opponent only to later use their very words to dismantle them. “The average person can’t afford to live in the gated community my family helped develop. Starting with my grandfather, Walter Drake, we worked our butts off to establish and grow our company and used blood, sweat and tears to establish our brand. I have not nor will I ever either misrepresent who I am and where I come from, nor apologize for the blessings that this hard work has produced. The story of my family, who rose from humble Louisiana country beginnings to the top of the real-estate and architectural industries is one that is well-known to almost everyone with deep roots in Paradise Cove, and one that everyone who is new to our community will undoubtedly hear.” He shot a friendly glance over at Monique and relaxed his stance. “I’m sure that Monique and I don’t want to get into a debate about which of us cares more for all of the citizens of this community. It is clear that we both do. What you’ll have to decide is who’s best equipped to take us to a better future—someone born and raised in the midst of you or someone who’s just arrived.” He looked at his watch. “You ladies are as wonderful and intelligent as you are beautiful, and I’d love to spend more time answering your questions, but duty calls for me to move on to the next appointment. And considering that you were just given breakfast this morning, compliments of my opponent, I can’t see why my office can’t continue the gratuitousness set with these actions by offering everyone in the salon a fifty percent discount on their next salon visit. Just make the appointment with Joy and one of my staff members will be by next week to work out the details for receiving our matching payment.”
The unofficial debate ended with women surrounding both Niko and Monique. He shook hands, signed marketing cards and gave hugs as he surreptitiously made his way to the front door, determined not to be late to the fundraising luncheon that had been organized by his staunchest supporter, his mother, Jennifer Drake. This event was as good an excuse as any for the whole family to get together. Quite frankly, Niko was looking forward to basking in their unwavering love.
“Thank you so much,” he said to one ardent supporter, determined not to let her pass until she’d given him an enthusiastic hug.
“Send your concerns to my office,” he heard from a little ways behind him. Monique was having just as hard a time leaving the packed salon as he was.
Finally they made it out of the crowd and onto the sidewalk.
“I guess that was our official beginning as political rivals,” he said, calmly straightening the tan suit coat that he wore over a black button-down shirt and black jeans.
“I’m surprised you chose to enter into a debate,” Monique responded, falling in beside him in a comfortable stroll toward their cars.
Niko’s laugh was as hearty as it was genuine. “It’s obvious that lone college victory gave you the confidence needed to throw your hat in the ring against me.” He stopped, turned toward her. “But please understand. I’m no longer that inexperienced sophomore trying to make a name for himself in the academic community. I am now a confident, successful businessman with nothing to prove, who knows that hands down I am the perfect choice for mayor of Paradise Cove.”
“Well,” Monique said, reaching her car and pointing the remote to unlock it, “someone who’s confident, successful and perfect surely has nothing to worry about.” She got into her car, started the engine and rolled down the window. “Except for someone who’s not at all intimidated by him. See you on the circuit, Niko,” she finished, with a casual wave of her hand.
“Not so fast.” Lightly grabbing the hand she’d just waved, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a business card. “Let’s keep in touch.”
“Okay.” She pulled her hand from his and took the card.
“Don’t I get one?”
Monique eyed him for a second before reaching into her card case and handing him one.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She maneuvered her car out of the parking space and was gone.
Niko watched her car travel down the street, noting the Slater: Slated for Success and New Mayor, New Vision, New Day stickers that decorated her bumper. He walked the few yards to his own vehicle and got inside, trying to shake the feeling that he’d just been one-upped by Monique Slater. More than fifteen minutes later, as he pulled up to the entrance to Paradise Cove’s exclusive Golden Gates community, he was still rattled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear that the ultraconfident, business-savvy sister had just thrown down the gauntlet. Niko exited his car and walked toward his parents’ front door, feeling more than ready, willing
