But after reading his instructions, I’m sure the chances of this plan working are slim. It’s a weak plan. Super weak.
Just as I feared it would be.
Matt had bragged that he would be in charge on this job, which led me to believe Mr. Smith wanted to see what he was capable of. I guess I wasn’t the only one moving up. But after dealing with Matt for the last two years, I wasn’t confident he was ready to be let loose like this, so I reached out to Devon.
The next time there’s a knock on the door, I know what to expect. A bellhop, not the uniformed George, pushes a luggage cart into the room then unloads three large boxes. I tip him and off he goes. I get the monitors set up and hook up the laptop, logging into the site on the paper I received earlier. The screen fills with small blocks, showing every angle of Andrew’s room and balcony.
Matt somehow got Andrew’s wife, Marie, an invite to a very coveted event in Nashville to guarantee she won’t be around when a woman approaches Andrew during the cocktail reception tonight to entice him to take her to his room. And I’ll be here making sure it’s all captured on camera.
I’m almost offended by how dumb this plan is.
Because what Matt doesn’t understand is that, if given the opportunity, Andrew will not cheat on his wife. It doesn’t matter how many beautiful, scantily clad women throw themselves at him. It doesn’t matter that he’s got a room to himself. It doesn’t matter how many drinks get fed to him. He’s not a cheater.
Matt didn’t do his homework for this job and it shows.
But I can’t come out of this weekend empty-handed. It’s clear I’m playing a bigger game now with a lot more at stake. I’m past petty theft.
Relief that I brought Devon on board is the only thing that keeps me from panicking. I make the call, and within half an hour, we have a new plan. A better plan.
While Devon scrambles to get what we need, I pick up my cell phone to call Andrew. He answers on the second ring.
“Hey!” he says. “All settled in?”
Andrew’s room is one of the largest suites this hotel offers. There is a huge sitting area and dining room in addition to the bedroom. And there’s a camera covering every inch, allowing me to watch as he paces the room, his phone to his ear.
“Yes. All settled. How about you?”
He drops down in one of the large chairs near the window. “Yes. All good here. Looking forward to a little downtime since I don’t really need to be at the conference until tomorrow morning. I think I’ll skip the cocktail thing tonight and just see everyone at breakfast. Plenty of time to rub elbows at the conference and the dinner tomorrow night. I’ll just get some room service then hopefully a good night’s sleep.”
And that’s Andrew Marshall. Squeaky clean and a tad dull.
“You know I’m supposed to fill every minute you’re here with things that will help your campaign,” I say, laughing into the phone. “Especially since we pissed everyone off by coming here rather than Memphis.”
I see him hang his head low. “Mia, I need one night off.”
Guilt bubbles to the surface until I remember the Kingston job. This is not my world. I’m just a ghost passing through. It’s enough that I’m able to shove those feelings way down deep and press forward. “How about this—I’ve looked at the list of attendees and there are some big hitters here. Why don’t I pick a handful for a private cocktail hour in your suite? Very low-key. Mingle with them for an hour then I’ll clear the room and let you have the rest of the night to yourself.”
Now his head is lying against the back of the chair, his hand rubbing his face. “One hour.”
“Got it! I’ll have room service send up a bar setup and some food.” I disconnect the call and put the rest of my plan into place.
Every man I invited to Andrew’s private cocktail party jumped at the invitation. I was very particular with my list, choosing men from all over the South, since this was a regional conference and not just one for South Carolina. And since all my jobs from the last two years have taken place in the South, I’m up to date on the political climate in each state, including the good and bad on every big name here.
Like Andrew, there are a handful of lawyers attending who also hold a range of elected positions, from local government office to the Senate. But I only invited the bad boys looking to play. The same ones who will quote the Bible along with their great love of family, faith, and God at their next rally.
Might as well make the most of this for him politically while I’m at it.