Courtship

by Carsen Taite

  She glanced at the schedule on her phone. Los Angeles. First up was a meeting with the governor of California who was in town for a benefit. He’d graciously offered a few minutes of speaking time to the hometown candidate. Another rubber chicken dinner. Garrett would get to preach to the choir and hope the press gave them enough free publicity to save them from having to shell out for another ad buy. She hadn’t wanted to stop here again until the end, but the president didn’t want to risk a bad showing in his home state, so she’d agreed to a quick hop through on their way to Nevada.

  Money was getting really tight, and she didn’t have a clue how they were going to survive the last week. Governor Briscoe and his band of corporate PACs with their endless fountain of wealth were slaughtering them with TV and online ads. She’d already scheduled a meeting with her team to decide where they would need to go black in order to stay on the air in the places still in contention.

  Already compiling a list in her head, she called out to her number two. “Brad, write a short meeting into the president’s schedule after the dinner. I want to have a revised ad plan in place, work up something to show me before the dinner’s over.”

  “Great. Hey, did you know Governor Briscoe is just across town at the Hilton?”

  “I thought he was headed back to Ohio. Any idea what’s going on?”

  “Not a clue, but I’ll see what I can find out. Any changes to the schedule tomorrow I should know about?”

  “No, but keep it fluid. Definitely Nevada, then Florida, but beyond that, there may be some last-minute changes. Let me know what you find out about Briscoe.”

  “Will do.” He made some notes on his phone and then held open the door to her waiting car. She slipped in and gave the driver the name of the hotel where the Garrett campaign had reservations. She should be riding with the president to go over campaign details, but his family was with him, and she figured another business discussion in front of the first lady might get her slapped.

  Julia dictated notes while shrugging into another of the endless supply of little black dresses that made up her appearance wardrobe. She should be able to deduct the cost of these garments as a uniform expense. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was happy to find that a steady diet of coffee and hamburgers hadn’t impeded her ability to look good in evening wear. But a closer look at the circles under her eyes and the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth, told her the undeniable. This campaign had aged her more than the others.

  Seven more days. Tahiti. Umbrella on the beach, umbrella in her drink. She repeated the mantra as she left the room. In the elevator, she switched gears and started planning for the staff meeting later that evening. By the time she reached the Garrett’s room, she was fully immersed in her job and ready for action.

  “Mr. President, we need to leave for the event in ten minutes. Mrs. Garrett, you look beautiful as always.”

  The first lady smiled and offered her a drink. Julia declined, but noted that she was in much better spirits today. Must be the fact the kids were with them. She couldn’t really blame her for being grouchy. All this time spent traveling would be hell on most people.

  Forty minutes later, when they reached the event venue, Julia waited backstage with the president. She couldn’t help but notice he was in an exceptionally good mood and she said as much.

  “No sense being tense on the downhill stretch. I guess I figure that whatever’s going to happen is going to happen, and the best I can do is enjoy the ride.”

  She started to say something about not writing things off until the end, but decided against it. His decision not to stress out might be the best thing he’d done. Besides, it was really her job from here on out. The strategic decisions she made about where to appear, what to have him say, all of that were what could make the difference on Election Day. As long as he didn’t do anything stupid, his good mood was a benefit, and she decided not to burst his bubble. “No matter what happens, sir. It’s been a helluva ride.”

  “And now, President of the United States Wesley Garrett!”

  “That’s me.” He shook her hand. “I’ll give it everything I got.”

  She knew that he would. She only wished his best would be good enough.

  *

  Addison poured another glass of wine and handed it to Eva who lounged on the couch, flipping through the channels on TV. “Let’s go out to dinner.”

  Eva yawned and stretched. “I was hoping we could stay in.”

  “We can watch TV anytime. I’m feeling restless.”

  “You’ve been that way ever since the funeral. Would you like to talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Having the desire to leave one’s home is not a mental condition. It’s actually pretty normal.” Addison knew she sounded crabby. Eva was right. Her restlessness had started when she’d returned home after the funeral. Suddenly, spending evenings alone with Eva in the confines of her apartment felt more claustrophobic than something to look forward to. She wanted fresh air, a variety of restaurants. She wanted to be in the world. Be a part of it.

  She imagined part of her change in mood had to do with grief and the realization that life is fleeting. She didn’t have time to waste living her life in secret, with a woman who didn’t want to be seen in public with her. Her patience for Eva’s desire for privacy was wearing thin.

  As if she sensed Addison’s growing agitation, Eva said, “Let’s plan a night out. We can take the train to Manhattan. See a show, have a decadent dinner, and stay the night at the Peninsula. I’ll make all the reservations.”

  Eva punctuated her offer with a wicked smile that promised extra entertainment. Any other time, Addison would have compromised to keep the peace, but she wasn’t in the mood for compromise. She knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to take a train ride to get it.

  “I’ll do you one better. Book of Mormon is playing at the Kennedy. I’ll make the reservations and treat you to dinner before. Tomorrow night?”

  Eva shifted on the couch, and Addison could feel the air between them chill as she braced for the answer that wouldn’t be a surprise. “Tomorrow’s not good for me. I have that meeting with the moot court team.”

  Addison persisted. “Reschedule. You’re volunteering to help them. They’re students. They’ll meet with you whenever.”

  Eva shook her head. “It’s not a good time.”

  “What you mean is it’s not a good place. Too close to home. Too likely you’ll be seen with me.”

  “Addison, don’t.”

  Keeping her frustration in check no longer seemed worthwhile. “Don’t what? Don’t ask for more than you’re willing to give? Even if what you’re willing to give is no longer enough?”

  “Is that how you really feel?”

  Was it? A week ago she wouldn’t be pushing this, but now she couldn’t stop. She was tired of settling. The eulogies for Justice Weir rang in her ears, all with a common theme. He had never compromised. He’d gone toe-to-toe with his adversaries, and he’d made enemies along the way, but he’d lived his life to the fullest, and that included standing up for his beliefs and being true to himself.

  Addison looked at the woman seated next to her. She cared for Eva, was definitely attracted to her, but she couldn’t completely give all of herself to her because she knew Eva wouldn’t return the favor. Their relationship was confined to chance glances on campus, the occasional phone call, and secret dates mostly taking place here at her apartment. She didn’t have a clue if she and Eva could have or would have more, but this fraction of a relationship wasn’t enough. Only one way to find out if Eva was willing to risk losing her. “I want more.”

  Eva sighed and hung her head. “I was afraid you would say that.”

  “I don’t understand why you don’t.”

  “I’m happy with the way things are between us. Can’t you be happy too?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Something’s changed. You used to be satisfied with what we h
ave.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Justice Weir’s death affected me more than I realized, but it’s not a temporary thing. I want to live large and I want the woman I care about to live large with me.”

  Sidestepping the last part of her declaration, Eva said, “You’re not going to start doing things like bungee-jumping are you?”

  Addison couldn’t help but laugh. “I can see the headline now. Dean Riley jumps off the Washington Monument. Middle-age crisis suspected.”

  Eva joined in her laughter. “Maybe you should start with something more tame, like kayaking the Potomac.”

  Addison’s laughter faded into something else. Something wistful. “Maybe I’ll start by going out in public with a woman who doesn’t mind being seen with me.”

  Eva reached for her hand. “It’s not you.”

  “I know. And that’s precisely the problem.”

  “I’m not ready to be who you want me to be.” Eva sighed. “I guess I should go.”

  As much as she wanted more, Addison wasn’t ready to lose what she had. Not yet. She wasn’t going to get what she wanted, but she needed to ease away from her expectations. Searching for levity, she said, “Right, and leave me with all this food? Nice try. Stay. Tonight, anyway.”

  Eva met her eyes, and they both knew this was good-bye, even if a prolonged one. Before the conversation could devolve, Addison grabbed the remote. “I’ll find a movie. We’ll eat too much, and drink too much, and then you can stumble back to your place.” She started flipping through the channels.

  “Stop. Right there.” Eva pointed at the TV screen, and Addison’s heart stopped as she saw the banner, Breaking News. This couldn’t be happening again. Paralyzed, she stared at the screen.

  “Governor Briscoe is about to take the podium, and I think he’s going to address the accusations. That’s his wife next to him.”

  “Can you give us a summary of what’s known so far?”

  “Sources say a number of women have come forward saying that he sent them revealing texts. Upon further investigation, we found out one of the individuals who received these sexts was not a woman at all, but an underage girl. Obviously, we’re not releasing her identity, but the police have confirmed that they have opened an investigation. This isn’t the usual situation of a candidate caught with his pants down. The governor could be facing serious felony charges.”

  “Holy shit.” Eva stared at the screen, and Addison joined her, relieved that the bad news wasn’t reminiscent of the last time she’d seen the breaking news banner onscreen. “I thought he was a sure bet to win.”

  “Me too. I wonder if they even saw this one coming.”

  “Judging by the look on his face, I don’t think so. And check out his wife. She looks positively shell-shocked.”

  Addison looked at the ostensibly perfect couple that filled her TV screen. Governor Briscoe and his lovely wife. Neither of their two perfect children were present for this occasion, probably because the subject matter was R-rated. The crowd of reporters shouted out questions while the governor tried to make his way through what sounded like a hastily prepared presentation. It didn’t really matter what he said at this point. Merely being accused would leave his reputation in tatters, and with only a week until the election, it’d be a miracle if he bounced back.

  “Let’s see what Maddow has to say.” Eva switched the channel, and they both settled in to watch the fray. Addison marveled at how quickly they’d slipped into different roles, from lovers to friends. Was this easier?

  She could overanalyze the issue later. Now, she turned her attention to the screen and watched while Rachel Maddow offered a few crisp comments about the governor’s statement.

  “That man needs a lawyer before he says another word. Following Governor Briscoe’s statement, the Garrett campaign was quick to react. Let’s go live to California where the candidate just gave a rousing speech at the Keystone dinner.”

  “Rachel, President Garrett didn’t make a statement himself, but his campaign manager is about to address the press corps. Here she is now.”

  As the tall, beautiful redhead stepped up to the microphone, Addison gasped.

  “What?” Eva asked. “Are you okay?”

  Addison took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I know her.” She pointed at the screen. “I mean, I don’t know her, but I met her at the funeral. At a reception at the White House. After the funeral.” Realizing how stupid her rambling sounded, she abruptly shut up.

  Eva looked back and forth from the screen to Addison. “She seems to have made quite an impression.”

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  *

  As Julia watched her candidate charm the audience, she almost forgot she’d already heard this speech or a variation of it about dozen times in the past two days. The delivery was the difference. The president had a renewed spirit of optimism she hadn’t seen in months.

  She was so engrossed in his words, she almost didn’t notice Brad tapping on her shoulder. When she finally turned his way, his face lit up with excitement.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  He signaled for her to follow him back into the hotel kitchen, far away from the stage, and then he handed her a piece of paper. She read it through three times while he watched, practically frothing at the mouth. When she was satisfied she’d thought it through, she said, “Who else has this?”

  “On our side? Only Diane. Cary Beyer from the Post gave her the tip. Governor Briscoe is going to have a press conference in about ten minutes.”

  She looked at her watch. Normally, Diane Rollins, the White House press secretary, would coordinate a response to this kind of bombshell, but she wasn’t with them on this leg of the trip, and this wasn’t a job that could be left to a deputy. The dinner would last another half hour. The press corps would be waiting like wolves for the president as he left, ready to pepper him with questions. There was no time to go through channels. She’d have to take charge and she’d need to act fast. She began firing off instructions.

  “Tell the agents to bring the president back here before he leaves. They’ll like that he’s not mingling in the crowd. I need five minutes to brief him before he leaves the building, but then I want him to exit the front entrance. He’ll have one sound bite, something that makes him sound above the fray, but appearing to be on top of things. Give me three options in the next ten minutes. Call Diane and get her to tell her reporter friend we’ll have a full statement as soon as the dinner is over. I’ll give the statement right there in the ballroom. You’ll stick with the president on the way to his car, and he will not take a single question. You can tell the press to head back into the room if they want to hear what we have to say. Understood?”

  Brad nodded and then sprinted out of the room to set things in motion. Julia read the note in her hand one more time, unable to believe their opposition had been so overwhelmingly stupid, not only to let this happen, but to let the press surprise them.

  She walked back across the room and stood in the curtains, listening to Garrett deliver the rote words and relishing his renewed sense of energy. For the first time in months, she felt hopeful.

  Thirty minutes later, she stood in the well of the ballroom, dozens of microphones pointed her way, unable to see the crowd for the flash of cameras. Her carefully crafted statement was short and to the point.

  “We are astonished at the accusations leveled against Governor Briscoe. As much as we would like to offer comfort and guidance to the American people as they form their decision about what to do in the upcoming election, all we can say at this time is that we are confident that justice will be done in the courts. In the meantime, we will continue to address the issues facing regular, law-abiding citizens: the economy, healthcare, and equal rights for all. Our thoughts and prayers are with the Briscoes as they turn their attention to their personal crisis.”

  Like the president, she didn’t take any questions. When she was done with her statement, she walked away
from the shouting crowd, her face fixed into a serious expression. Not until she reached her room at the hotel did she burst into a smile and down the best bottle of scotch in the hotel mini-bar. Maybe her trip to Tahiti would be a celebration rather than a respite.

  Chapter Five

  Addison waited patiently in the long line. She could’ve voted early, but there was something about casting her vote on the very day it would be counted that seemed special. As she looked around at the crowd, she was happy to see so many people had turned out, and she wondered how much the recent revelations from Governor Briscoe’s camp had to do with the renewed interest in the election.

  When she finally reached the front of the line, she took the ballot the volunteer handed her and stepped into the booth. The entire process only took a few minutes since she’d carefully researched the candidates and issues before she’d arrived.

  A few minutes later, she was back outside, shivering against the chill of the morning air. She spotted a coffee shop on the corner and ducked in for something warm to drink, surprised to see a familiar face standing in line.

  “Julia?”

  “Yes?” She turned, and her expression morphed from confused to comfortable.

  Addison stuck out a hand. “Hi, I’m Addison Riley. We met at—”

  “At the White House. A pleasure to see you again, Dean Riley.”

  Addison cocked her head. They hadn’t discussed her employment, so Julia must have asked around about her, or at the very least Googled her. Flattering. “Please, just call me Addison. May I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  Julia glanced at her watch and Addison caught the hint. “Sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking. You probably have a thousand things to do today.”

  Julia pointed at her watch. “No, I’m sorry. Occupational hazard. You know, I do have a long to-do list, but I don’t think anything on it will make a difference at this point. I’m pretty sure the well-oiled machine won’t miss me for a few minutes.”