American History 1988
Chapter 290 - 280: The Final Sprint

Chapter 290: Chapter 280: The Final Sprint

"Dean, what are you busy with?" Miranda, cradling her belly, was sitting bored on the couch, watching Dean constantly write and draw without lifting his head.

"A draft of the science policy guideline." Dean’s pen didn’t stop; he had to finish it in these two days.

"I never knew you had such a talent." Miranda chuckled teasingly, as she always thought Dean was indifferent to politics.

"You know," Dean straightened up and sighed, "There are things you have to do even if you’re not interested in them."

"For the sake of business?" Miranda found a pillow to support her back, which made her feel more secure.

"Yes," Dean was drawn to her action, "Dear, are you okay?"

"Of course, I’m fine, I’m just a bit worried." It was Miranda’s first time being a mother, so she had no idea what to do.

Actually, she was just over two months pregnant, and her belly wasn’t even noticeable yet.

But Miranda always subconsciously held her belly, afraid that any carelessness might affect the baby inside.

"Relax a bit, dear. The doctor suggested we should move around more, it’s good for the baby."

Dean also had no experience, but he could feel Miranda’s anxiety.

This might have to do with the topic they deliberately avoided; she lacked a sense of security.

"I’m trying to adapt." Miranda smiled and shrugged.

"OK, let’s go for a walk later." The neighborhood was very secure, and Dean planned to take her out for a stroll.

"What about your policy guideline?"

"I’ll get it done right away." Dean went back to the desk and resumed his fervent writing.

Knock knock knock, the crisp sound of knocking broke the rare silence.

Dean turned his head, Caitlin was standing at the door looking this way.

"What is it, Caitlin?" Dean put down his pen.

"Sir, they have invited you to a meeting." Caitlin shook the phone in her hand.

"Silicon Valley?" Dean confirmed.

"Yes, Mr. Baram said they are ready to make a statement." Caitlin faithfully relayed the contents from the Silicon Valley call.

"OK, I got it." Dean nodded, signaling her to wait outside.

"Dean~" Miranda seemed to sense something, "Is there something important?"

"The elections, Silicon Valley is preparing to take a stand." Dean picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.

"I shouldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow; the economic issue is the fundamental problem of America..."

Clinton was speaking confidently on TV, while the old George beside him still wore a stodgy expression.

Their debates were not for the first time, and the situation was starting to slowly tilt to the left.

Dean changed the channel, and the screen showed footage of Clinton and his wife doing charity at a welfare center.

This wasn’t anything new, as both sides had started a competition in showmanship for the sake of the upcoming election.

When old George announced a donation to the Veterans Association, Clinton adopted an orphan who had lost his parents at a children’s home.

The contest between the two had entered an intense phase.

"Old George will lose the election." Suddenly Miranda’s voice rose from beside him.

"What?" Dean shifted his gaze from the TV.

"He broke his ’no new taxes’ pledge, and many voters will abandon him.

Many within the Republican Party also have complaints against old George; they even favored Ross Perot before.

In the past few months of the campaign, Ross Perot took too many votes that originally belonged to the Republican Party."

As a secretary in the Republican Party office, Miranda knew far more insider information than outsiders did.

Although the final moment of the presidential election had not arrived, many had already anticipated the outcome.

Old George had plummeted from an 80% super high approval rate a year ago to less than 40% now.

Economics was certainly the main issue, but the appearance of dark horse Ross Perot had directly dashed old George’s dream of re-election.

Ross Perot was originally a supporter of the Republican Party, but he was disappointed with old George’s performance in the economic field in recent years.

In one program, Larry King asked him if he had any intention of running for president.

Perot said no but added a statement.

If he received enough public support and help to meet the vote benchmark in all 50 states, he would run.

So, after the show ended, the office line that Perot had set up was immediately inundated with calls.

Because viewers who watched the program mostly thought of Perot as a "man of action, someone who does real work, and cares about the public."

The development of events quickly exceeded the media’s expectations, according to people from Perot’s office.

Perot’s campaign hotline received 30,000 calls within an hour, and more than a million calls in ten days.

Then Perot kept his promise; he self-funded and began to participate in the election.

Originally, everyone thought it was a ridiculous farce, but the final result shocked everyone.

Perot, the billionaire, as an independent candidate, actually won about 20% of public support.

And most of those who supported Perot were white male blue-collar workers and farmers, two major voter groups.

This was precisely the Republican Party’s voter base; in other words, Perot had siphoned off Bush’s votes.

Then a dramatic moment occurred: Perot announced in July that he was withdrawing from the race.

His reason was that he had received death threats from the Republican Party, threatening to disrupt his daughter’s wedding with phone calls.

The Republican Party naturally denied it, so a war of words ensued.

This was certainly an unexpected joy for Clinton; the Republican Party was in discord, and the Democratic Party benefited.

However, the twists and turns of the ’92 election, this month, that is October, Perot once again announced he was re-entering the race.

This time, he demonstrated his financial capability, launching his campaign ads for a whopping $5 million US Dollars per day.

Some media estimated that Perot had spent at least $60 million US Dollars on this election.

As a super-rich man, Perot was using his wealth to leverage the election.

It was for these reasons that Miranda said old George would lose this election, his foundations shaken.

"Dear, you’re prepared to head back to the West Coast, right?" Miranda knew Dean had always supported the Democratic Party.

During this crucial period, he would definitely need to be there to oversee things.

"Sorry, Miranda, I must go back," Dean had already spent the better part of a month on the East Coast.

Not to mention Byte Company, he hadn’t even had the chance to meet Jennifer Connolly once.

"I know," Miranda wasn’t surprised by this, "Next time we go to the hospital, could you come with me?"

"Of course, I promise!" Dean solemnly assured her.

"OK," Miranda stood up and began organizing the documents on the table for him.

She then handed them to him with a smile, "Go on, I hope even more that you’ll become everyone’s idol."

"Miranda~" Dean pulled her into an embrace and kissed her forehead, "The surname Price will certainly be anything but ordinary in the future."

"I believe you."

Five minutes later, Dean left the villa in the Caraloma community, with Caitlin following closely behind him.

The outside was bustling, as Silicon Valley was ready to place its final bet.

...

"Dean, give me a hand quickly~!" The moment Jennifer Connolly saw Dean, she exaggeratedly propped herself up by the lower back.

"Dear," Dean felt a bit overwhelmed, "you’re not even two months along..."

Jennifer’s expression changed, "I detect impatience in your tone. You’ve been gone for nearly a month and haven’t accompanied me to a single check-up.

Now, just as we meet... Waaah~" As she spoke, she actually started to cry.

"OK, OK," Dean reached out to support her, "Tears aren’t good for the baby inside."

"You’re not disgusted by me, are you? Waaah~"

"Of course not," Dean swore earnestly.

Women’s emotions tend to fluctuate during pregnancy, so Dean was very accommodating to them.

"You promise me, during this time you won’t go see that Bitch."

Jennifer Connolly was laying out conditions, seizing a good opportunity.

Dean’s eyes flickered, but then he nodded, "I definitely won’t get intimate with her."

"Really?" Jennifer was curiously doubtful; she had just said it casually.

As she knew Dean, going three days without a woman would have him tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

"I promise!" Dean said with earnest seriousness, right now he indeed couldn’t be intimate with Miranda.

However, other women were an option, hence he had just slightly narrowed down the range.

"Oh~" Jennifer was still surprised and hadn’t quite recovered because this answer had never been in her expectations.

"What did the doctor say?" Having shown concern for one, Dean was now inquiring about another.

"Everything’s very good, I think he will grow up healthy." Jennifer gently caressed her belly.

"Good, I love children," Dean always knew just when to offer tenderness to a girl.

"But I need to go to a meeting first. When I get back, we can discuss the plan for turning this place into a playground."

"Dear, go ahead with your work," Jennifer Connelly was very understanding and didn’t continue to cling to Dean.

Whimsical as she might be, she wasn’t foolish. Her relationship with Dean was very good, and now she was pregnant.

She didn’t need to do anything; she was already a winner.

...

"Hey~, look who’s come?" Baram opened his arms warmly, "It’s our Mr. Billionaire, ranked eleventh."

"Buddy, why doesn’t your compliment sound that exciting?" Dean laughed as he hugged him.

They were old friends, particularly when it came to supporting Clinton.

"Maybe it’s because you’ve grown accustomed to such wealth," Baram patted his back, "Come on, we’ve been waiting for you."

The Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco was filled with Silicon Valley’s 25 most prestigious and wealthy individuals.

John Young of Hewlett-Packard, John Sculley of Apple, Ellison of Oracle, Paul Allaire of Xerox Corporation...

Many of them were originally supporters of the Republican Party but had now changed their tune, completing the shift in allegiance.

"Well done, Dean!" Ellison came over to congratulate him, "Shame that the number one spot was snatched by that guy from Seattle."

Ellison was referencing the latest Forbes 400 ranking, which had some noticeable changes from the previous year.

The title of America’s wealthiest now belonged to Bill Gates.

With a net worth of $6.3 billion US Dollars, he surpassed last year’s John Kruger and took the top spot for the first time.

As for Dean, his ranking had soared from last year’s thirty-fifth to this year’s eleventh.

The substantial inflation of his fortune was, of course, thanks to the surging stock price of Byte Company.

By October, Byte Company’s market value had reached a new peak of $8.2 billion US Dollars.

Together with stocks in AOL, Cisco and other companies, Dean had easily amassed a fortune of $3.2 billion US Dollars.

Though he didn’t make the top ten, this still left people in awe of the rapid pace at which Dean’s wealth was accumulating.

"Alright, gentlemen, here are your speeches," Baram, as the organizer, began to gather them.

"And this statement, if there are no issues, sign it. Whether Silicon Valley can storm Washington depends on this!"

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