Late Night Research
Just days to go to the nominating convention; his candidate considering an offer from their biggest rival to be VP candidate on the ticket… but tonight, back in his hotel room, the only thing on his mind was Donna.
For months it’d been easy to push it all to the back of his brain. Real easy, in fact. He’d had a lot of practice down the years in not focusing on what was going on with him and Donna. There were plenty of other things to think about.
Not seeing her every day had made it easier.
That was a lie. At first, a dozen times a day, he’d nearly called out her name to ask for something, before remembering that she wasn’t there. But he’d learnt. Gotten used to it. The Donna-sized hole was still there, always next to him, but he’d learnt to ignore it.
The times he’d seen her on the primary trail it had been awkward. Every time had seemed like a shock to his senses. Like seeing a ghost from a life that could have been.
But then, tonight.
It had been nice… just dropping straight into conversation, as if there hadn’t been a single moment when they’d stopped. Things were different though. She talked now with a confidence that she hadn’t had before. She’d always talked with a kind of bright confidence, but this was different. This was stone cold cool. Hard to quantify exactly. A whole different playing field.
Josh reached into his backpack and, after a little digging, pulled out the USB drive Ronna had given him a week ago. It had been just one amongst a hundred things he’d asked her to get for him over the last few months.
“Oh and can you get me copies of comments about the Congressman by… Russell’s spokesperson. Video. Not urgent, just whenever. Soon… ish.”
“The chicken fighter?” Ronna had asked, absently, noting it down with everything else.
“Yeah.” He’d winced at the nickname he’d managed to get her tagged with by his team, but Ronna hadn’t noticed.
Then they’d rushed on to the next thing and he’d genuinely forgotten about it until she’d handed him the drive a few days later. He wasn’t even sure by then why he’d wanted it. He didn’t need it. He’d tossed it into his bag, moved on with the day and forgotten it again, till now.
He sat down at the desk, fired up his laptop and plugged in the drive.
It took the computer a moment to recognise the unfamiliar device but then a window came up showing eight files. He leant forward with one elbow on the table. His hand hovered over the trackpad, but then determinedly moved and clicked on the first file.
Something lurched inside him as the window opened. Her face filled most of the frame, and she was smiling. Then she was talking. Then the short video ended and he realised that he hadn’t taken in a single word she’d said because he’d been too busy just staring at her.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“Get it together.” He told himself.
Opening his eyes, he hit re-play.
Her smiling face came up again but it wasn’t such a shock this time. He sat back in the chair.
“Matthew Santos is throwing a ton of numbers at you hoping you’ll miss the fact that his education plan is impractical and unaffordable. He was a House member. Behavior like that should irritate him.”
The video ended.
He leant forward and hit re-play again.
Smiling.
“Matthew Santos is throwing a ton of numbers at you hoping you’ll miss the fact that his education plan is impractical and unaffordable. He was a House member. Behavior like that should irritate him.”
Re-play.
Smiling.
“Matthew Santos is throwing a ton of numbers at you hoping you’ll miss the fact that his education plan is impractical and unaffordable. He was a House member. Behavior like that should irritate him.”
Re-play.
Smiling.
“Matthew Santos is throwing a ton of numbers at you hoping you’ll miss the fact that his education plan is impractical and unafford…”
He’d moved suddenly; jerking forward to flick the cursor to pause and tapping hard to select it.
“What the hell am I doing?” He asked himself softly into the silence that followed.
He sank down in the uncomfortable chair. His back immediately told him that it was bad idea, so he got up and threw himself down the bed instead.
He glanced back over at the laptop. Her face was still there in the paused video window. He exhaled hard and dropped back to stare at the ceiling instead.
This, right here, was crazy behaviour and, truth was, he knew exactly why he was doing it.
“I meant Will.”
For a second there his heart had soared (with, you know, pride or love, or whatever) and she’d brought it crashing back down to Earth.
What had Will done for her that he hadn’t?
What, apart from, say, making her spokesperson for the Vice President’s Presidential Campaign? That little… fucking thing!
He froze as another thought came to him. Her and Will weren’t..? Jealously kicked him in the guts.
He winced hard.
No. He’d seen the two of them together in the White House, and at the gala. They hadn’t looked like a couple and they hadn’t seemed like they might be sneaking off for furtive campaign sex. In fact, it had seemed like every time he’d seen Will the night of the gala he’d been standing with Kate Harper. Donna had mainly been with Russell, which was why he hadn’t approached her to thank her for the heads up earlier in the day.
It was none of his business even if they were. She’d most certainly rejected him already. Flat out left him and their friendship behind. Everything they had, abandoned, so she could advance her career.
Except, for a moment there tonight… and she had come to him with her suspicions about Rafferty’s Healthcare Plan.
He really was clutching at straws now.
If she actually cared, then she’d still be working with him. She’d be here with him right now. Well, maybe not right here with him. Not in this bed with him.
Okay, stop right there. He might have to see her tomorrow. If he spent tonight with thoughts going in that direction God knows what dumb thing he might say.
It was bad enough thinking that her and Will might be…
He got up and started pacing.
He stopped at the computer and his shoulders sagged. He leant over the chair, closed the window and went back to the file list. After a moment’s pause, he clicked on the next one.
“Claiming three House terms qualifies you to be president is like me saying I’m a foreign-relations expert because I ordered Kung Pao.”
Maybe it was her stance; that something that was just so her.
No, it was the wry smile on the end that did it.
He laughed.
He pulled himself up immediately. That was his candidate she was talking about.
He moved the cursor towards re-play. Then closed it instead. He moved on to the next file. The next. And the next. And the next. And the next.
There she was: looking amazing, in different locations, sometimes close up, sometimes further away, using humour, using stats, using astute commentary… all to eviscerate Matt Santos.
Josh leant on the back of the chair, sucking on lemons, eyebrows raised.
He had to admit that, if she was on his team, attacking the opposition, he’d be congratulating her on a job well done about now.
But she wasn’t.
He opened the last file. It was the longest of them all. She really hit her stride. With keen intelligence she highlighted all the reasons Matt would have trouble beating Vinick. She was absolutely spot on. Everything that he’d already thought of. A couple of things he hadn’t.
Part of his brain was mad as hell at her. If this was picked up by anyone smart enough, they could see it as blueprint for how to beat them. He thought he’d taught her better than that.
But that was a thought for a different day. At the moment it was overridden by a another one. Her take-down of his candidate chances was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
He rested his elbows on the back of the chair and buried his head in hands.
Aw crap, he was going to end up saying something very stupid next time he saw her.
Hating himself, he reached out and moved the cursor back to re-play.