by Carsen Taite
“We’ve upped the ad buys in key states and we’re reconfiguring the electoral math. It’s not over until it’s over, sir. I promise you your entire team is behind you.”
Veronica Garrett delivered a mirthless laugh. “You should get back into running politics from the inside, Julia. You’ve got the doublespeak down. Noah says there’s no way we can win. At least he’s got the balls to tell it like it is.”
Julia winced inwardly at the reference to the president’s chief of staff and resisted pointing out that if Wesley trusted Noah to get him elected, she wouldn’t be here. “With all due respect, ma’am, anything could happen, and I’ve seen plenty of strange comebacks. But if you want some hard truth, I’ll give it to you.”
“I think that’s exactly what we want.” Veronica glanced at her husband, but Julia noted he continued to stare out the window. If he was going to let his wife ask the tough questions, then she’d let him handle the fallout when she delivered the tough answers.
“It’s almost impossible to make the kind of gains we need with the election this close. We will do everything we can to make it happen. That’s all I can promise you.”
The partition between the passenger compartment lowered and the driver called out, “We’re a block away from Saint Matthew’s, sir. We should be there in just a minute.”
The president nodded, and Julia was glad for the interruption. When he turned back to her, she cleared her throat. “I can tell you one thing. If you believe you will lose, you will lose. If you believe you will win, you can win. I will do everything in my power to make sure when this election is over, that whatever happens, you know you did everything you could. It’s not always about the best man for the job. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of timing. Even if you don’t win this election, you’ve accomplished a lot. You’ll always be known as a statesman.”
“Fair enough.” Wesley took his wife’s hand. “We’ll do whatever you ask us to do for the next two weeks, right, dear?” Veronica nodded, but her eyes were full of fire.
“Great. Day after tomorrow, we’ll start up again in Ohio. Right after the funeral, you’re hosting a wake at the White House.” In response to Wesley’s surprised look, she said, “Elections are all about capitalizing on opportunity. Justice Weir’s mourners represent your base. You know, the ones you don’t want to stay home because they can read polls too. It’s important for you to be visible to them, every opportunity you can get.” She didn’t bother mentioning as the gap in the polls widened, money was starting to dry up. She’d take every bit of free press they could get. “Don’t worry. Governor Briscoe is not on the guest list.”
Later, seated in the pew at Saint Matthew’s, Julia glanced around at the sea of people who’d come to pay their respects, some driven by duty, some spurred by real emotion. The pallbearers, Justice Weir’s most treasured clerks, each of them with a hand on the casket, walked as if they had all the time in the world when it was apparent by their very load they did not. Seven men, one woman. Julia checked the program. Addison Riley. Even if she weren’t the only woman in the bunch, she’d stand out. Her tall carriage spoke of pride to be included in this elite group while her eyes glistened with sorrow. Half a room away, Julia could tell her emotion was raw, deep. Watching her, Julia was swallowed up with loneliness. If she died, would anyone come to the funeral? The only people she knew were the ones who paid for her services. If she were gone, they would be released of further obligation. No one would cry, carry her casket, or eulogize her good deeds. They’d merely shell out a few bucks for someone else to take her place.
Chapter Three
As Addison entered the White House, a flood of memories settled over her. She hadn’t been here often, but each time she’d been on the job, as solicitor general, here to brief the president or his chief of staff on her thoughts about the position the administration should take on a number of cases pending before the Supreme Court. Usually accompanied by an assistant from the justice department, she would lay out her reasoning as to why the administration should appeal a loss in a lower court or intervene when Congress enacted a new law that ran afoul of the constitution. She’d been issued a badge and escorted through the West Wing, but her trips had stopped years ago, and even then she’d never been here, in the ornate and spacious East Room. She wouldn’t even be here now, but all Weir’s clerks had been invited to attend the private reception, and Larry had insisted she come along.
The room was full of Washington power players. She looked around the room until she found Jeff standing near the bar. When she joined him, he ordered drinks for both of them and passed her a heavy crystal tumbler full of scotch.
“Drink up. Jake and Evan are headed our way.”
She didn’t have time to respond before she heard Jake’s voice.
“If it isn’t the wonder clerks. Tell me something. Does your arm hurt? I heard they use a fake casket that’s made of balsa wood so no one drops the box. Can you imagine if the body fell out and skittered down the steps in front of all the press?”
“Jake, you’re an ass,” Jeff said.
“Don’t be so prissy, Senator. I’m just proof that you can be smart and funny all in the same package.” Jake ribbed Evan, and they both snorted with laughter. Addison looked around the room and watched the guests shoot them indulgent looks. Everyone expressed their grief differently, but these two were just what Jeff said, asses. She started to walk away, but stopped at Jake’s next words.
“I wonder if the wreck was really an accident.”
She whirled around and got in his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You heard me. I heard the judge was driving home from dinner. Maybe he had a few too many.” Jake cupped his hand and mimicked drinking while making gulping sounds. Evan laughed while Jeff looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
The pressure of the last two days bubbled over, and Addison shoved a pointed finger into Jake’s chest. In a low, but steely voice, she said, “If I hear you offer that opinion anywhere else, ever, I’ll see that your legal career is finished. Nod if you understand.”
Jake’s eyes widened and he nodded. Addison wasn’t surprised at his reaction. Very few people ever got a glimpse of her temper, which gave it added effect when unleashed. She lowered her hand, and Jake and Evan took off.
“Wow, Riley. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so pissed off.”
Addison let the anger slide away and she smiled. “It doesn’t happen often.”
“I think he was just joking around.”
“He needs to find something to joke about that’s actually funny.”
“Agreed. Another drink?”
Addison looked down at her glass, surprised to find most of the amber liquid gone. “Another scotch and lives might be in danger. Club soda for me, but I’ll get it. You need anything?”
Jeff shook his head, and Addison walked back over to the bar where a line had formed. The woman in front of her tapped her foot and then her fingers against her thigh, obviously impatient at the wait. She looked at her watch several times and sighed. After a brief interval, she pulled out her phone and composed a brief text, tapping the screen until it buzzed with a response. A heavier sigh followed, but it was accompanied with resignation. No more tapping, no more glances at the time.
“I’d offer to let you in front of me, but you already are.” Addison wasn’t sure what had spurred her to speak, but once the words were out, she decided to add a smile. The woman’s head jerked up, and she looked like she was about to offer a smart remark, but then her entire expression relaxed, and she smiled back, a dazzling, beautiful smile.
“I’m not good at waiting.”
“I could tell.”
“You, on the other hand, seem to be a glutton for it.”
“What?” Addison followed the woman’s glance to her hand, which held the now empty glass. “If it makes you feel any better, there wasn’t a wait the first time.”
“Nope. Doesn’t make me feel better at
all.” The woman cocked her head. “I recognize you.” The tapping started again. “From the service. You were one of the pallbearers, right?”
“I was.” She reached out her hand. “Addison Riley, nice to meet you.”
“Julia Scott.”
Her hand was soft, but her shake was firm, and neither one of them seemed interested in letting go. Julia Scott was captivating with wavy red hair, sharp green eyes, and a strong jaw. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but definitely eye-catching. The bustle of the room fell away as she lost moments in Julia’s strong gaze. When a tray-bearing waiter bumped her arm, she shook off the trance and looked down to see that they were still holding hands. As she released her grasp, Julia said, “So, you were one of Justice Weir’s clerks?”
“I was.”
“How did they decide which of you would carry the casket?”
“What?” The question seemed to come out of left field, but it served to cut through the haze of attraction. Trivia. That’s all this woman wanted to know. Probably a reporter, which might explain why she recognized her. Although she couldn’t imagine how a reporter had gained entry to this private event. Suddenly, Addison was the impatient one, and she willed the bartender to move faster, but Julia pressed on.
“Sorry if that’s too personal. Although considering how long we’re likely to stand here waiting, I’ll probably find out everything about you before we ever get served.”
“Are you a reporter?”
Julia laughed, a hearty laugh as if she hadn’t heard anything funny in days. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I mean it would be strange for a reporter to be here, but then again, it might be normal to have members of the White House press corps attend social events.”
Julia started to reply, but was suddenly distracted by something behind Addison. Addison turned around and found herself standing face-to-face with the president of the United States.
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. Julia, I was hoping to get a moment with you.”
Addison watched while Julia looked completely unflappable in the face of such a request.
“Sure. Mr. President, I’d like to introduce Addison Riley. She was one of Justice Weir’s clerks.”
He shook her hand and smiled warmly. “Of course. I apologize for not recognizing you at first. Please accept my condolences. I understand you were close to the justice.”
Addison was impressed he knew who she was, considering they’d never met. “Thank you, sir. And thanks for this invitation.”
“Please visit anytime. And forgive me for stealing your companion. Julia?” He motioned to the door and started walking with two men in suits following at a discreet distance. Julia took Addison’s hand, pulled her close, and whispered in her ear. “I’m only following because I know he’s got a private bar. Good luck with the line.”
Addison watched her go, confused, aroused, and more than a little curious. She was still staring when she saw Jeff across the room. He waved and made his way to her.
“I saw you talking to the president. If you’re looking for a job, I don’t think he’s in a good place to help since he’ll be looking for one himself in the next few weeks.”
This wasn’t the time or place to talk politics, and she refused to take the bait. “I’m perfectly happy with the job I have, thanks. Do you know the woman he left with? Julia Scott?”
“She’s his campaign manager. If you’re a Democrat, she’s the person you want on your side, despite her personal baggage. Although I don’t think even a miracle worker could save this president from his lack of a cohesive domestic agenda and inept foreign policy. She’s definitely got her work cut out for her. Garrett just doesn’t have…”
Addison tuned out the rest of his right wing rhetoric while she reflected on her short conversation with Julia. She’d just insulted one of the most powerful women in the country. No wonder Julia had been so impatient. She probably had a thousand places to be, a thousand people who commanded her time and attention. Julia Scott had certainly caught her eye. Would their banter over drinks have led to something more if she hadn’t mistaken Julia for a reporter?
Doubtful. But Addison couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the possibilities.
*
As Julia followed Wesley into the Oval Office, her thoughts lingered on Addison Riley. Beautiful, accomplished, painstakingly polite. She’d been instantly attracted to her charm and, as much as she knew the president wouldn’t have interrupted if it weren’t important, she wished she could have had another moment with Addison.
“Have a seat.” Wesley directed his lead agent to shut the door. “Drink?”
Finally. “Bourbon. Double. Neat.” While he poured from a crystal decanter on a cart, she offered what she hoped he would mistake for small talk. “That woman, Addison Riley. Who is she?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you live under a rock. How is it that you know the name of every national and state elected politician, but you don’t know the dean of the most prestigious law school in the region?”
“I know who I need to know. I’m not big on local folks.”
“True. She’s the dean of Jefferson University Law School in Virginia,” Wesley said. “I would’ve thought you might have heard of her. She’s quite the scholar, one of the youngest Supreme Court clerks of modern day. Former solicitor general. Jefferson was lucky to get her.”
“Well, not all of us lawyers are scholars are we, sir?”
“Good point. Sometimes I forget you’re a lawyer. I think of you more as a—”
“I think the word you’re looking for is player.”
“I was going to say marketing specialist.”
“You’re one to talk, using your law degree for political gain.”
They both laughed and clinked glasses in a toast before settling into the chairs arranged around the large rug emblazoned with the presidential seal. He spoke first. “Are you dead set on us starting back up in Ohio?”
“Who wants to know?” Julia asked. “You or the DNC?”
“I won’t lie. I’m getting pressure from every angle. Everyone has an opinion about where we should focus our efforts.”
Julia set her glass down. She should’ve seen this coming. “If you want someone else to call the shots, tell me now. There’s still time for me to book a flight to an island and watch the returns from a bar in the middle of nowhere.”
Garrett sat forward on the edge of his chair. “Now, hold on. I tell everyone who calls the same thing. There’s no one I’d want running this campaign but you. Hell, you got me elected. Twice. If it can be done, you’re the one to do it.”
“But?”
Julia looked on while the leader of the free world squirmed in his chair. Someone very close to him must have questioned her strategy to put him in such an uncomfortable position. The president and the Democratic national chair had never been close, so it had to be someone else. She took a stab. “Is the first lady displeased with my work?”
“What? No, Veronica may not care for the life I’ve chosen, but she doesn’t get in the middle of business.”
“Who then?”
He sighed. “Noah. He thinks we should spend more time in California. Shore up the base.”
Julia silently counted to ten. This wasn’t the first time she and Noah had butted heads over campaign strategy, but at least in the past he had come directly to her instead of going over her head. “Mr. President, if you don’t take a commanding lead on election day in key states like Ohio and Pennsylvania, by the time the polls close on the East Coast your base in California won’t even bother to vote.”
He started to respond, but she cut him short. “Noah is an excellent politician, but campaigning for public office is not the same thing as pushing a bill through congress. I don’t try to do his job, and he shouldn’t try to do mine. If you think I’m not doing a good enough job, then by all means bring someone else in to replace me, but make sure it’s someone with a proven track r
ecord as a campaign manager, not your chief of staff.”
“I have no intention of replacing you.”
“Maybe you should. We’re way down in the polls. I keep thinking I must have missed something.”
“You didn’t. Not your style. If I lose, it’s my own fault. I had so much I wanted to get done, but I couldn’t seem to get my message across.”
“Bullshit. If the election doesn’t go your way, you’ll still be leaving this place in better shape than when you got it. Now enough talk about losing. It’s bad luck. Throw your drink over your shoulder or something.”
“Salt. It’s salt you throw over your shoulder, but only if you spill it first.”
Julia raised her glass. “Then here’s to never spilling anything.”
Garrett stood. “For the next two weeks, I’m completely in your hands. You decide where we go, what we say. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“What are you going to do when this is over?”
“I was thinking about that earlier today. Tahiti was all I’d come up with for now.”
“Sounds great, but if you ever decide you want something more, let me know. If I win…” He paused and then amended, “When we win, there will always be a place for you here.”
She smiled, but all she could think about was a cushy chair on a white sandy beach and a tall, fruity drink, maybe a beautiful woman in the chair beside her. She briefly closed her eyes and imagined it were true. In her dream, an imaginary companion turned to toast their trip to paradise, but her face was familiar, and suddenly, she wasn’t imaginary at all. Her companion in paradise was Addison Riley.
Time to get back to work.
Chapter Four
A week later, Julia stepped off the plane, not entirely sure where they were. It was the third stop of the day, and at this point, every place they landed looked the same. Seven more days.
