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Bobby shook his head. “No sir. From our sources he hasn’t been informed yet.”

“That makes it worse!” Jim was angry. “What is she waiting on?”

“It’s done now,” said Roger Van Dam, the CFO. “So let’s just settle down. What’s the likely fallout?” He was looking from William to Bobby to Max. And back to William. William looked at Bobby.

“She’ll have to drop out for sure,” he said. “They were touting her as the great black hope. Her chance to become the first black prime minister of Canada gone in an instant. And believe you me,” Bobby said, who had thousands of followers on social media because of his good looks and buff body, “there’s going to be a lot of anger directed at the boss.” He looked at the boss. “A lot of anger.”

“I agree,” William said. “We’ve got to contain the damage. That’s the best we can do right now.” Then he looked at Max. “What’s the demand?”

“It keeps going up.”

“What’s the latest amount?” William asked.

“Seven-hundred-million and counting.”

“Outrageous!” Jim said. “Nearly a billion dollars and they want it in twenty-four hours? Nobody in this world has that kind of cash laying around. Not even you, William. Are they nuts? It takes time to pull together that kind of money!”

“Time we do not have,” said Bobby.

“The issue is that she cheated on her husband,” said CFO Roger Van Damn. “That’s what’s going to hurt our brand. That’s what’s going to cripple her with voters. That’s what’s going to force her out of the race.”

William looked at him, a man he respected above the more histrionic Jim Flanagan. “Your point?”

“Is there any way we can claim that the affair occurred before she married Arthur?”

Max was already shaking his head. “They were married twenty years ago. The video is date-stamped.”

Bobby looked at him. “You saw it?”

“I saw it, yes.”

“And you’re certain it’s authentic?”

“Yes.”

“But how can you be so certain?” Jim asked.

“Boss saw the video too. Since it’s a video of himself and Arthur Davenport’s wife making love, and he didn’t dispute it,” said Max, “he’s our authentication.”

Jim got up from his seat. “This is a nightmare! When this comes out, Arthur is going to fire us on the spot and who knows how many more of our high-dollar clients will go with him? This is a mitigated disaster, William!”

“What if Mr. Davenport stands by his wife?” Bobby asked. “The spouse of unfaithful politicians do it all the time.”

“None of those spouses were Arthur Davenport,” said Jim. “And the man that betrayed him is his very own consultant? The man that’s supposed to protect him from scandals like this? He’ll stand by her alright. He’ll stand by her as he throws her ass off a cliff.”

“But what if the public forgives her?” Roger asked. “The Canadians aren’t like us. They’re known as a very forgiving people.”

But Bobby was shaking his head. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“She’s black, Rog,” Bobby said. “White folks don’t give us that kind of grace. They only give white folks that kind of grace.”

William leaned his head back. He felt terrible. “We have twenty-four hours before the fallout.”

“If that long,” said Bobby.

William stood erect. “I’ve got to go back to Chicago and talk to my wife.”