Page 41 of Hidden Gem
Accepting a glass of water from Tracy, Jason stood aside, letting the photographers get a wide shot of the show home they were about to tour. He liked the Mediterranean flavour of the 3D-printed houses. The technology allowed for more customisation than the typical new builds around New Zealand. The rounded corners and faintly castle-like features were a nice touch. The brand-new suburb still had the empty look of a LEGO village with recently sprouted grass and uniform baby trees. In time, it would turn into a real neighbourhood with berms sporting rubbish bins and illegal parking. If he’d gone down the property investing route, he might have bought something like this. Less boxy, more playful. This is where he could have brought up a family. If he held a nine-to-five job, slept at night and otherwise kept his shit together. So many ‘if’s.
Rachel, the stocky, unflappable leader of the Labour PR team, approached him and wiped the smile off his face. “Let’s keep your visit short, okay? Just a few photos.”
She escorted him in front of the show home, where he posed dutifully next to the developers, smiling for the cameras. From the corner of his eye, he recognised one of them, Nick, an old friend he’d lost touch with since running for parliament.
Jason took a step towards him, but Rachel yanked him away. “We better get you out of here. A couple of journos are eyeing you for more comments on whatever the hell you got up to last night.”
Dark shadows under the middle-aged woman’s eyes matched his own. Rachel had seen it all and couldn’t care less about his love life, which Jason found comforting.
He lowered his voice. “How do you think I should play it? You’re the expert.”
The woman deserved some flattery. She’d clearly been called out here on her day off because of his transgressions.
Rachel stomped her leather boots against the pavement, rattling a deep sigh. “There’s one thing you need to understand, which I’m not sure you do, judging by that display last night...” Her voice lowered, showing a hint of hurt he wasn’t expecting.
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the reporter wasn’t too close. The only other person in the vicinity was Tracy, who took an imperceptible step closer, curiosity lighting her face.
Rachel went on. “You’re public property, Jason. Kind of like Prince William. As long as you’re single, every woman in the country can imagine themselves with you. If you get involved with someone, anyone at all, you break their hearts. They’ll want to know everything about this woman, and she better be amazing. Like Kate fucking Middleton.”
A layer of cold sweat formed in Jason’s hairline, and he belted out a hollow laugh. “I’m not that big of a deal, right?” He glanced at Tracy for confirmation, but only received an apologetic smile.
“I’m not saying it’s on the same scale. We don’t have the tabloids, but there will be stories, speculation. It’s different for you. You won the youth vote. You’re their hero, standing up to the boomers, fighting for home ownership for the generation who’s been priced out of the market or whatever dreams you sold them.”
Pipe dreams. Jason cleared his throat. Ever since stepping inside parliament, he’d been trying to not think about his election promises. Before he’d made it to parliament, he’d believed every word. He wouldn’t be a fraud, a liar, like every other politician out there. But it wasn’t true. He was a liar, the worst of them.
“And then there are your looks,” Rachel continued, giving his body an approving once-over that made him shudder. “You’re the sex symbol of the elder millennials, those who haven’t fully given up on the dream of home ownership. And you’re also the poster boy of younger millennials with daddy-issues, the one bringing a brighter tomorrow for the renters.” She punctuated her words with an animated, if a bit disingenuous grin.
Jason’s throat-clearing progressed to an honest-to-God coughing fit. Had he inhaled a bug, or just a bit of his own saliva? His lungs hacked away, begging for mercy, as his mind replayed the sickening words. He could never live up to those expectations.
Rachel swatted his back with a force of a semi-professional squash player. “There, there.”
Jason straightened his back, which vibrated from being treated as a squash ball, and drew a steadying breath. Two reporters edged closer. He raised his hand in a quick greeting, signalling them he wasn’t available. Not yet. The flirty smile worked, and they stepped back, crossing their arms. Waiting.
“So, to answer your question,” Rachel continued, lowering her voice, “You have two choices. Out this woman, laugh about the whole thing, have her vouch for you. Or, if she’s not keen, lay low for a while. Make sure you’re seen by yourself, doing the single guy thing. Act like you’re over it, you know the drill. Maybe go out with someone else, get your photo taken. Make it look like you’re just out there, looking for love, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Women love that.”
“Is that what people think of the video?”
Tracy blushed. “I thought it showed courage and it made me wonder who the woman was. What had happened.” Her blush deepened, and she nibbled at her fingernail.
Jason shook his head as if to dispel the image. “Courage? You don’t have to pander to me. I know I made an absolute ass of myself. And I wasn’t even drunk! It’s okay to say it.”
Tracy’s eyes shone as she hugged her iPad to her chest. “My friend Erin sent me a link to that video last night. I know people are making fun of you, but not everyone...” She flipped the iPad so he could see it and fetched the email she’d received. Jason stared at the row emojis, some of which he’d never seen before. Under the video link, the message screamed with adoration.
OMG!! Do you know what happened??!! Did he fall asleep on her? I need to know LOL. I can’t believe you work for this guy!! Honestly, I can’t stop fantasising about him ... He can fall asleep on me any day! Soooo cute!
Jason thrusted the iPad back to his assistant like it stung his hand. He didn’t need to know this. It wasn’t healthy. “I have to go.”
“Good choice!” Rachel stepped between him and the approaching journalist, giving him the opportunity to exit towards the carpark. Behind his back, she heard him apologising on his behalf.
He was about to walk away when he caught Nick’s eye. He raised his hand with a tentative smile, giving him an opening. God, he missed having guy friends! Malcolm was great, but he lived and breathed politics. Jason needed his mates, the ones who didn’t call him sexy or cute.
Gathering his courage, he circled the journalist to reach Nick. “Nick! I had no idea this was your project! Amazing work, bro. This is going to be a hit!”
Nick’s eyes lit up at the praise, and he shook Jason’s hand. The photographer jumped on the opportunity, and they posed together for a quick snap.
“How’s it going in the Beehive? You’ve made quite a name for yourself,” Nick said good-naturedly, rubbing his salt-and-pepper beard.
“The media circus is nuts, but the job is interesting.” Jason paused for a moment, wondering about how much to share. They used to be so close, playing tennis together every week, going out for beers afterwards. Nick had always left after one drink, to get back to his family, put his kids to bed or help his wife with something. He was a good guy, living a life Jason now envied. “I’m hanging in there. I miss having a life, though. Having time off. The tennis.”
