Bode didn't.
'What are you talking about, Jim Bob?'
'Higher gas prices at the pump mean higher gasoline taxes and severance taxes. Bode, we jack up the prices enough, we can balance the state budget on oil alone.'
'So what price did you have in mind?' the CEO said.
'Five bucks a gallon would be nice.'
'We can do that.'
'Five bucks?' Bode said. 'Folks won't be able to fill up their pickups.'
The CEO chuckled. 'One thing we learned, Governor-people will pay any price to fill up their SUVs and pickup trucks.'
'How are you going to justify five bucks a gallon?'
The CEO rubbed his chin and grunted.
'Well, we can't use the 'tight world supplies' line this time-we used that back in the summer of oh-eight.' He grinned. 'World was awash in oil, but we raised prices to four bucks a gallon and consumption didn't drop a barrel. Press picked up on the shortage line and ran with it. Public bought it. Records profits that year.'
He paused and sighed. A wistful look came over his face.
'Boy, that was a fun summer.'
Jim Bob cleared his throat to get the CEO's attention back to the present.
'Okay, so let's see…' His expression showed that his mind was scheming. He suddenly snapped his fingers. 'I got it. You're gonna love this. We'll jack up the prices and say, 'Demand is increasing because the economy is improving, so higher gas prices are actually good for America.' '
'That's bullshit,' Bode said. 'The economy sucks.'
'So? The people are desperate for the economy to improve, Governor, so we'll tell them what they want to hear. Doesn't have to be true. You're a politician, you know that.' He smiled. 'Hell, time we're through, the people will actually be happy to pay five bucks a gallon.'
'You guys are good,' Jim Bob said.
'We've been at this game a long time.'
And so the night went. Before last call at the bar was announced over the public address system, Jim Bob Burnet had locked in $650 million in pledges to the Super PAC. He gestured at the vast hall.
'Two weeks ago, these people wouldn't have given you the time of day. Now they're lining up to write you a check for fifty million. Because you killed a few Mexicans.'
It was Friday night, but not movie night. Jesse and Lindsay had worked late at the clinic then stopped at Luis Escalera's cafe for dinner. On their way home, they picked up the mail at the post office. Jesse went inside and returned with a handful of letters, which he handed to her.
'What's all this?'
'Open them.'
She opened the first letter. There was a check inside for ten dollars made out to Jesse Rincon, M.D. She opened another; inside was a check for twenty-five dollars. The next was a check for fifteen dollars.
'They're all checks,' she said. 'From San Antonio.'
'That profile must have aired. We always get checks after an interview or article runs. Perhaps there will be enough money to buy a fetal monitor.'
They stopped off at the market then drove home. The phone was ringing when they walked into the kitchen with the groceries. Jesse answered.
'Jesse Rincon.'
'Doctor. This is Jorge Gutierrez. I am the mayor of San Antonio. I have been calling you all week.'
'There is no phone service in the colonia where I work.'
'Ah. Well, I have you now. Doctor, I would like to meet with you.'
'About what?'
'Being the first Latino governor in the history of Texas.'
'You want to run for governor?'
'No. I want you to run.'
Jesse laughed. 'I am sorry, Mayor. I am a doctor, not a politician.'
'Oh, you are much more than a doctor, Jesse… May I call you Jesse?'
'Yes, of course.'
'Please call me Jorge. Jesse, I have read all the articles about you, in the border newspapers and in the Houston paper. And I saw the profile this past Sunday on the San Antonio television station.'
'Checks came in the mail today.'
'I can make many more checks come in the mail, Jesse.'
'How can you do that?'
'By spreading the word among my Mexican Mafia.'
'Your what?'
'My network of Hispanics in business, law, the media… Hispanics who want to help. Jesse, you could do much good for Latinos in Texas.'
'I am doing good for Latinos right here.'
'You could do more good in Austin. In the Governor's Mansion. Jesse, you could be the one.'
'The one what?'
'The one who leads Latinos to power in Texas. El salvador.'
'I am sorry to disappoint you, Mayor, but I am neither a politician nor a savior. I am just a doctor.'
'We've been waiting a long time for our savior.'
'I am afraid you must wait a while longer.'
'Jesse, you are the only man who can save America from Bode Bonner.'
The governor of Texas flew back to Austin late that night. They dropped Jim Bob off at his downtown condo then drove to the Mansion. Bode climbed the stairs to the family quarters and entered the master bedroom. Mandy Morgan lay asleep on the bed. In a camo cami with matching thong. She was young, and she was beautiful, and she was sexy. He felt young.
Alive.
Vital.
Relevant.
But not because of Mandy. Because the great adventure was upon him. Because he was the man who would be president. Because he had the polls, the Twitter followers, the Super PAC, and the testosterone to win the White House. Because he had everything.
Except a first lady.
'Mayor Gutierrez wants you to run for governor?'
Lindsay had overhead Jesse's conversation.
'That is what he said.'
They were sitting on the back porch overlooking the river. The stars were out, and the night was quiet.
'But that would be a conflict of interest,' he said.
'What?'
'Running for governor while loving the governor's wife.'
'Are you?'
'No. I will not run.'
'No. In love with me?'
'Yes. I am.'
He reached over and took her hand. Maybe it was the wine she had had with dinner, but she did not pull away. She held the doctor's hand and thought of her husband. He wanted to be president; a president needed a first lady. She wanted to be a nurse; a nurse needed a doctor. She felt herself drawn to Jesse Rincon-but as a doctor or a man? Or both?
Lindsay Bonner was not a complicated woman. She had never had issues. She had always known who she was and what she wanted.
