Page 96 of Damage Control

“You can’tpossibly know that.”

“Exit polls—” Martha started.

“Always wrong. Sam’s right about that.” Park turned to Jackson. “The cake has to come from that bakery near your apartment. The one with the amazing French buttercream. And don’t skimp on the whisky, either. A really good single-malt scotch. Okay?”

Jackson smiled and patted Park’s knee.

“It hasn’t been an easy campaign for HowardThompson, either,” one of the reporters said. “With Livingston so much in the news, it’s been hard for Thompson to compete for airtime. For good or ill, Mr. Livingston has very much been in the spotlight this election cycle. He’s gotten almost twice as much coverage as his opponent.” A graphic popped up on screen showing that Park had received 90 minutes of news coverage in the last month as comparedto 46 minutes for Thompson.

“Polling data indicates that definitely had an effect,” the other reporter said. “Livingston is a name voters will remember when they go to the polls.”

“Oh, this just in,” the first reporter said. Someone off camera handed her a piece of paper. “We can report right now that, with seventy percent of precincts reporting, Metro News is officially projecting ParkerLivingston as the winner in the New York Senate race.”

The room erupted in cheers. Park’s heart stopped beating. Somehow, he was then on his feet and everyone was hugging him and slapping his back. He got separated from Jackson, the only person he really needed nearby.

“It’s not over until Thompson calls to concede,” Martha shouted.

That got everyone to calm down, but the mood haddefinitely changed. The air felt lighter, everyone seemed more cheerful, less grim and serious. All of the staffers except Park, Martha, and Sam left to go to the party with Park’s blessing. Jackson stayed behind, too, and took Park’s hand. He squeezed it and said, “Told you so.”

“Not over yet,” Park reminded him.

But a half hour later, Sam handed Park a cell phone and said, “Howard Thompsonfor you, sir.”

“Howard, hello,” Park said, feeling like a teenager finally getting a phone call from the boy he had a crush on.

“You’re a worthy adversary, Park,”

“Thank you, sir. I want you to know that I still have the deepest respect for you.”

“Yes, well. There’s enough of a margin of victory in the results that I’m calling you to concede.”

Park didn’t know what to say.“Thank you, Howard. I appreciate it.” He felt stupid, wanting to console Thompson at the same time he wanted to join his party downstairs.

“We’ll talk more after I wallow in defeat for a bit,” said Thompson. “But I want you to know, I think you’ll do great things in the Senate. And now I have a concession speech to give. Have a good party, Park.”

“Thanks.” But Thompson had already hungup.

“You’re going to want this speech,” Sam said, handing Park a sheet of paper. “You have about three minutes to gather yourself, because they’re going to expect you downstairs as soon as Thompson’s concession speech airs.”

Indeed, on the TV screen, Howard Thompson walked out to a podium in another hotel ballroom on the other side of Manhattan. “I just called Parker Livingston to concedethe election,” he started, and was met with boos.

Jackson held up Park’s jacket, so Park slid his arms into it. “Let’s go,” said Jackson.

“You promised me a dance.” Park raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“You were just elected to the United States Senate, but you’re concerned I’ll forget to dance with you? Your priorities are in order, I see.”

Park smiled for the first time allnight. “I love you.”

“Uh-huh.” Jackson was clearly trying to sound stern, but he smiled. “All right. I love you, too. Come on, Senator Livingston. Your party awaits.”

Sam was already leaving the room with Martha on his heels, so Park followed and held out his hand for Jackson. Jackson took it, and they walked down to Park’s victory party together.

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