Chapter 7: Living in Washington
"Then isn't it enough to just handle this matter properly?"
Scott was genuinely puzzled. Wasn't this kind of scandal routine? He remembered Trump running for president while facing serious rape accusations and still coming out fine. In Hollywood these things happened all the time. The public's attention span was limited; you simply dropped a hotter story to divert focus, waited for the heat to die down, leaked some damaging dirt on the opponent, then went on a friendly talk show for a quick whitewash. Simple.
Hillary Clinton stared at Scott's casual "what's the big deal" expression and felt momentarily speechless.
"It's very difficult," she said. "The public cares deeply about whether politicians have happy families. In 1988 our party's candidate Gary was exposed for having an affair. He ended up with only four percent in the primaries and had to withdraw from the race."
"I have a way to handle this," Scott said dismissively. "I know the Gary you're talking about—Gary Hart, right? He was just stupid."
He knew the story well. Hollywood leaned heavily Democratic and people still laughed about Gary Hart's spectacular self-destruction. The guy had been photographed, but there wasn't even solid proof at first. Instead of staying calm, he got angry and dared the media to follow him and investigate all they wanted. He should have just weathered the storm for a few days until the heat died down. But the very next day, reporters staking him out photographed him with the woman again. At that point he should have apologized properly, made excuses, played the victim—anything. Instead he announced he was quitting the race and blasted the media for treating candidates like prey, spreading rumors, and ruining his family's life. Then the idiot got caught again on a yacht with the same woman sitting intimately on his lap. After denying everything the first time, he should have stuck to any story—even something ridiculous like "I was just helping her apply sunscreen." But no. He went on television, confessed to being unfaithful to his wife, then announced he was running again anyway and got crushed with four percent. He did everything possible to destroy himself.
"Really?" Hillary's eyes lit up with sudden hope. If this mess with Bill could be handled cleanly, the rest would be much easier.
"Didn't your consulting company give you any solutions at all?"
Scott looked at her with mild disbelief. "The old method: confrontation and diverting attention. Bill is already working on diverting attention, but confrontation…"
Hillary hesitated. "I don't know if it's right or wrong. Mainly, Gary's incident back then left too deep an impression on me, and there was also the Wilbur incident before that. In my impression, apart from the president enjoying the gentleman's agreement, few have had good outcomes."
Scott's mouth twitched. He knew about Wilbur too—a legendary Arkansas figure. What locals loved recounting wasn't the scandal itself, but how the man had tried to evade a DUI checkpoint by driving drunk straight into a pond. It was still a running joke at dinner tables back home.
Could he really tell her these political consulting companies were living in the past? What era were they operating in? These were Cold War-era tactics. Back then, to protect the national image against the Red Giant, the media followed the gentleman's agreement and code of silence—they didn't dig deep and sometimes actively covered things up. But after Reagan's neoliberalism, who still played by those rules?
Compared to their counterparts in Los Angeles who had fully adapted to—and even shaped—the new media reality, Washington's methods were stuck in the Bronze Age while Hollywood had stepped into the Steam Age and was already building better machines. The only reason these DC firms still existed was that their Hollywood rivals couldn't reach the politicians in Washington. Otherwise they would have been squeezed out and left scavenging.
"Forget it," Scott said bluntly. "Stay away from that team. You won't even know when they drag you into a ditch. Those are methods from how many decades ago? Do they still believe the media has to follow the code of silence they set fifty years ago? Times have changed."
He couldn't hide his contempt. "Even someone who knows nothing about politics can see the code of silence doesn't exist anymore. But these people still handle scandals like it's the 1950s. They think if one outlet breaks a story, you just confront it strongly, show the right attitude to the public, and the rest of the media will politely back off. That world is dead."
"We've hired the largest and best political consulting company in the country now," Hillary pouted. She also sensed something was off, but this was how things were done in Washington politics, and she had no better alternative.
"Alright," Scott said. "I'll call Karl later and give you a solution—one that's definitely better than what you're using now. And I'll give you a suggestion: have your consulting company go study how their counterparts in Los Angeles operate for Hollywood clients. Their methods are too crude and outdated."
Scott had zero respect for this consulting company. In his view, turning a small, manageable scandal into a catastrophe was pure amateur hour.
Later American presidents—whether it was Obama, Trump, or Biden (everyone should know who they are; for some reason, whether changing characters or using more specific nicknames, it can't be written)—which one or their family hadn't faced scandal after scandal? The public treated it as entertainment and quickly moved on. Who really cared in the long run?
Reassured by Scott's confidence, Hillary felt much lighter. She might doubt many things, but she trusted his instincts when it came to media, entertainment, and public perception. Sony's success was proof enough.
In the past two years Scott had provided razor-sharp market positioning for Sony Music's artists, and nearly every one had taken off. A large portion—now essentially all—of his income was Sony paying him disguised consulting fees. That was why she had voluntarily given him more ground in their relationship recently. She knew exactly how valuable he was. She needed him—both for the physical side and to maintain the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to. If she treated him the way she had at the beginning, she would lose him eventually.
Scott's sudden explosion into nine-figure wealth last year had been completely unexpected. Many people had received the same tips she gave him, but none had turned them into what he did. That sudden change made her anxious to lock him down. She needed him to need her again. That was also why she had pushed Bill to run for president now instead of waiting a few more years when the timing would have been safer.
"Um… there's one more thing I need your help with," Hillary said, looking slightly embarrassed.
"What is it?" Scott asked, picking up another sausage that had gone cold.
"I need some money… to take care of Jennifer—the woman involved in Bill's scandal." This was the real reason she had urgently called him to Washington.
"How much?"