“My plans for what?”
“The election.”
“As you well know, I’m forming an exploratory committee.”
“You need to declare early. Scare off the competition.”
“This may not be the right cycle to run.”
“Bull. You will campaign, get the party’s nomination, and we’ll make a successful run at the presidency.”
“We,” Clay said in a clipped tone, letting the pronoun hang in the emotionally charged atmosphere.
“I can’t trust you not to mess it up. I’ll be there every step of the way. I have some things to deal with here but I’ll be in Washington next week. We’ll get things started.”
Despite the urge, and a certain need to do so, Clay didn’t argue. A smart man picked his battles with the old man. This wasn’t the time or the place.
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