She thought that kind of bill might have more of a chance, because his side would have a majority if he won. Considering the way politics had recently skewed toward party over policies, all he’d have to do is call his cronies on the local city council, and game over. I’d be left either moving out of state or coming up with a new source of income. Going out of state meant starting over again, in a new place where I didn’t know anyone. I could do it, of course, but it hurt to have to pick up when I’d finally started to feel like I belonged somewhere.
These thoughts were going to make me spiral, which I couldn’t afford. To distract myself until Daniel returned, I went back to my phone list, promising myself that after every ten frustrating calls, I could do ten leg raises per call. It was the only way to make the work bearable.
Twenty minutes later, I laid on the floor, head against one of the support beams in the middle of the floor. Hands wrapped around the beam, I lifted my legs slowly off the floor, bending in half and touching the floor behind my head. One beat at a time, I lowered them, hovering a couple of inches above the floor before starting again.
Halfway through my third set, I paused to catch my breath, resting my legs on either side of the beam. That’s when I heard the lock on the front door clack open.
Someone gasped.
Then I heard Daniel’s voice. He sounded almost as if he was choking. “Melody? What are you doing?”
He’d returned earlier than expected, with the promised interns in tow. A girl with long blonde pigtails and glasses watched me with an inscrutable expression, while an Asian guy stared, mouth hanging open. Behind them both, Daniel pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking. He turned away with the effort of controlling his laughter.
“Melody, these are our new interns, Jade and Seth. Guys, meet Melody. She’s our candidate.”
CHAPTER 14
Cobra: Floor work isn’t my favorite, but sometimes you need to catch your breath between all the gravity-defying tricks. This is similar to the Cobra yoga pose, except you’ve got a pole between your legs and you’ll arch your back to grip the pole above your head.
- Push and Pole Fitness Tutorials, Vol. 1
At the last minute, Daniel arranged for me to attend a fundraiser for the local fireman’s association on Tuesday night. He apologized repeatedly for the lack of notice when he told me, but my traitorous heart sped up at the thought of getting to spend another evening with him so soon.
I texted Lana to see if she was free on such short notice. Even if she weren’t, she’d find a way to join me. That’s what best friends did. Knowing how I felt about Daniel, she’d serve as my human buffer.
After Lana agreed to meet me at the event, I put on a brand-new, knee-length navy wrap dress and attacked my terrible hair. There hadn’t been time to get the extensions yet with all the shopping and studying and making pointless phone calls, but I swore to call the stylist first thing tomorrow. Meanwhile, I spent about twenty minutes watching short hair tutorials on YouTube before I came up with something workable.
Once my mane was tamed, I added some subtle make-up and eschewed my preferred six-inch silver stilettos for some boring navy three-inch heels. Erica would approve. Then, I pasted on a smile and headed to the event, the picture of a demure politician.
To my surprise, Lana and I found ourselves seated at a table with the Assistant Attorney General, three members of the state legislature, and Curtis. No one needed to introduce me to the woman sitting beside him. Even if Daniel hadn’t told me that my rival tended to bring his mother to events as his date, there could be no mistaking her. Curtis’s features fit his face so perfectly, seeing them on the face of a sixty-year-old woman tripped me out. Mother and son shared the same deep-set blue eyes, the same pointed chin, the same charismatic smile, as if Curtis’s father contributed not a drop to his genetic makeup.
Across the table, Curtis ignored me and Lana while he vied for the governor’s attention. While we ate, the AAG presided over the table, making small talk and artfully drawing everyone into the conversation. Now, she was the perfect politician. I tried to picture myself holding court at a table like this in the future, including everyone, making small talk. No colorful language or controversial opinions. No one made any waves, despite the fact that according to Daniel, the AAG didn’t share opinions with Curtis or at least one of the legislators at our table.
As the conversation unfolded around me, I smiled and nodded pleasantly, chuckled when appropriate, and contributed when possible. Lana did a great job making friends on my behalf, and I eventually relaxed. Between dinner and dessert, she excused herself to visit the ladies’ room.
The value of circling the room wasn’t lost on me, not at all. But Daniel had gotten delayed, and I preferred to have him or Lana by my side before I started introducing myself as a candidate to strangers in a bipartisan room.
While I waited for one of them to appear, Curtis’s mother turned to her son. Now that I took a closer look, Mrs. Baker seemed familiar, but I couldn’t figure out where I’d seen her before. Not that it mattered. It was probably just the strong family resemblance. “Dear, aren’t you going to introduce me to this lovely young woman?”
A look of confusion crossed his face. “Who? Ms. Martin?”
“It’s nice to meet you. How do you know my son?” She smiled at me. The way she looked between us suggested she was hoping to do a little matchmaking, which meant she didn’t have the first idea who I was. Or who her son was, for that matter.
“It’s lovely to meet you, too, Mrs. Baker,” I said.
“You look familiar.” If I’d hoped ignoring her question would allow me to change the subject, I was wrong. “Have you and my son known each other long?”
“No, we met last week.”
Curtis cleared his throat. “Mom, Melody works at Dance 4 U. She’s the woman from that video.”
Never in my life had I see someone go from friendly to cold so fast. I could’ve sworn a rush of chilly wind came out of Mrs. Baker’s chest. “Oh. So have you been worshipping the devil long, then?”
A bark of laughter escaped me. “I don’t worship the devil. I just like to dance.”
“Dancing is how the devil works his way in. You can’t be too careful.” She picked up her napkin and fanned herself. “Luckily, my boy is going to join the state legislature and put a stop to all that nonsense. No more sin businesses in our town.”
Being polite was getting me nowhere. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m also running in the special election.”
“Curty? What’s she talking about, dear?”
“Curty?” I mouthed at him, carefully keeping my grin from getting too wide.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt, at least having the sense to look embarrassed at letting the conversation get this far. “Melody is my opponent, Mother.” To me, he said, “You’re still running?”
His indifference made my blood boil. As if the fact of my name on the ballot were completely inconsequential. “They haven’t held the election yet, have they?”
Curtis arched an eyebrow, which made me want to smack him because I couldn’t do it. “I’d hoped maybe you’d realized that the venture is pointless and decided to save us both some time and money.”
“Sorry if having to actually campaign is a hardship,” I said. “But I’m not going anywhere. I need to make sure free expression stays safe for everyone, not just the rich and the privileged.”
“People with money are in a better position to evaluate the needs of the masses because they aren’t preoccupied with scrounging up food and shelter.”
What a load of garbage. “Maybe it’s better to leave the decision-making up to those most affected by the policies. We weren’t all born with a silver spoon up our butts.”
Mrs. Baker gasped at my language. I ignored her.
“Speaking of silver spoons, it looks like they’
re serving dessert. Everyone should be returning to the table,” Curtis said.
“Does the Assistant Attorney General know what you do for a living?” Mrs. Baker said.
I blinked at her several times. “Excuse me?”
“Does she know that you dance naked in front of strangers? I should think that’s not the type of person she’d want to dine with.”
“That’s not what I do.”
“That’s not how I understand it,” she said. “I thought you were running for the right to dance naked.”
I glanced at Curtis, but there was no help coming from that corner.
“It’s about free expression. The First Amendment is a bit more than dancing,” I said. “With or without clothes Which, by the way, I wear. I don’t get why you all think I’m naked all the time.”
Mrs. Baker ignored half of what I said. “The First Amendment is about the Bible. And protecting people like me from having to associate with someone like you.”
“People like me? Oh, I get it. You’re one of those people who cherry-picks scripture, right? Gays are bad, but cotton-silk blends are fine? You pretend not to think less of your gay friends and family while actively fighting against their rights?”
“You must have me confused with someone else,” she said. “We fight the good fight. I don’t associate with any sinners.”
I glanced at Curtis, whose face had gone white. He was clearly terrified of his mother finding out about him. Instantly, the fight went out of me. Instead of responding, I pushed my chair back and rose to my feet. “Excuse me. I didn’t come here to be abused. I have campaigning to do.”
My blood boiled. The rest of the room faded away, and for a moment, I didn’t care about the election, the other people in this room, the studio, any of it. Meditation. In and out. Slow breathing.
To my great relief, I spotted Daniel across the room, talking to Lana near the entrance. Exactly the people I needed to see right then. Keeping my eyes on them, I inhaled and exhaled until I felt like myself again.
When I approached, Lana took one look at my face and handed me a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say I discovered first-hand where Curtis got his horrific views.”
“Ah, I see that Mrs. Baker is here,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry.”
In my tiny purse, my phone beeped. I should leave it. All the people I needed to talk to were in this room, but I couldn’t resist. My DNA required me to check my phone when it went off.
I had a text from an unknown number. The message was short and to the point.
Thank you.
That was all it said. I had no idea who sent it.
My eyes landed on Curtis, still sitting beside his mother. He watched me intently before his eyes slid to his own phone, lying on the table. Suddenly, I knew who sent the text, even if I didn’t know where he would’ve gotten my number. He put on airs, a great show of confidence, but inside, I saw someone who was terrified of disappointing his mother. Of living a life that she clearly wouldn’t approve of. He saw firsthand the way she talked to me in public. What might she say to him in private?
Instead of responding, I gave the briefest of nods. I didn’t like him, I didn’t like his views, but that secret would forever be safe with me.
“Do you know Curtis’s father?” I asked Daniel.
“Only by reputation,” he said. “Why?”
“Just wondering if he is as rigid as his wife. Or if he was, before his ‘epiphany.’”
“I believe so, yes.” Our eyes met, and a wealth of information passed between us in a single look. Suddenly, I understood my opponent far better than I ever wanted to. Poor guy.
But understanding Curtis—and even empathizing with his plight—didn’t mean I agreed with his actions or his politics. I still couldn’t let him take away my livelihood. I took a swig of champagne and put my hand on Daniel’s elbow. “Come on. Let me wow these people.”
CHAPTER 15
Twisted Star: This move is actually a great stretch for your shoulder. I like to do it from the ground at the end of a long workout. But it IS more impressive if you can swing into it from a climb, especially on the spinning pole.
- Push and Pole Fitness Tutorials, Vol. 1
The days blurred together: fundraising event, press event, looking pretty, waving, making small talk. Endless phone calls. Teeth bleaching, waxing, although I drew the line at tanning in the middle of winter, and I flat-out refused to discuss Botox. Nothing Erica possibly said could change my mind about that one. I wasn’t even thirty; I didn’t care if I had laugh lines.
More shopping, buying more overpriced junk no one needed just so I looked the part. When I mentioned using an online service to rent the clothes I’d be wearing for the next few weeks, Erica put one hand over her chest and closed her eyes for so long, I wondered if I’d given her a heart attack.
Her response was direct and to the point. “No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Part of me wanted to argue to see if it was possible to piss her off, but upsetting Erica only hurt me in the long run. After my pole lesson with Daniel, she’d arrived at my door with an Allen wrench to remove the pole from my living room.
I’d called him the moment she arrived, but it turned out, since they weren’t dating like I thought, he had less sway than I’d imagined over her.
“I’m so sorry, Mel,” he’d said. “I’d told her to leave it, but she said you’d get it back once the campaign is over.”
“It’s two against one, though,” I’d pointed out.
“This isn’t a democracy,” Erica called from where she’d been struggling with the pole. “You could help me with this.”
In response, I’d simply snorted and returned to the phone. “Daniel, please?”
“I know it sucks, but she’s not willing to discuss this one,” he’d said. “We still need her. You’re doing great, but we’ve got weeks left and a lot of public appearances.”
The annoying thing was, he’d been right. We did need Erica. People responded to the speeches she’d written for me. They looked at me approvingly at events and interviews. For the first time since this all started, I felt like a political candidate. She also handled press inquiries, and she shone in that capacity. Even if she didn’t excel at her job, there was no time to replace her. But she was the best.
“You owe me,” I’d finally said to Daniel as I watched Erica walk out the door with my most prized possession. I hoped she would drop it on her foot, but no such luck.
Sure, I could buy another one, but battling Erica took a lot of energy out of me. We needed to get along if this was going to work. So I bit my tongue, gave up my workouts temporarily, and bought more clothes that made me look like a senator. If I lost the election, I’d donate everything to the area women’s shelters. Actually, I was half-tempted to do that if I won, too, but I wouldn’t. AOC dressed professionally to go to work in the House of Representatives, and so would I.
She had become my idol. We agreed on most policy issues. She was so well-spoken and intelligent, I wished she would run for governor or the Senate just so I could vote for her. Every day I logged into Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook to see what she had said. Every day I sent her messages, hoping that one of her staffers would see my calls for assistance and say something positive about me or my campaign. No response yet, but nevertheless, I persisted. My official accounts emulated hers, from a similar-looking profile picture to the way I spoke.
Now that my wardrobe was complete and I’d made it through a couple of public appearances without completely embarrassing my campaign, I felt better about my chances of winning. Erica still had plenty of ideas for improvement, though.
“We need to work on the way you talk,” she said one snowy afternoon out of the blue.
I rolled my eyes. Sure, being cooped up in the office was boring, but was it that boring? “Really? Should
I affect a British accent? ‘The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain.’”
“This isn’t My Fair Lady. We’re not going to fall in love and live happily ever after.”
“Amen to that, Henry Higgins.”
She glared at me impatiently. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, what am I even doing here?”
I resisted the urge to throw down my pen in a huff. Instead, I took a deep breath and counted to five. Ten. Twenty. “I am taking this seriously, I promise. It’s my livelihood at stake. I want to win this thing. I just don’t know that changing my diction is the answer. Don’t voters like someone who gives it to them straight? Talks like one of them?”
“Only if you’re old, rich, white, and male.”
“Is one out of four good enough?” This I asked sheepishly since we both knew the answer. “Sorry. Okay, let’s start over. I’ve got an hour free now, then I’m supposed to have lunch with Daniel.”
“I’m glad you mentioned that,” she said. “I believe he spoke with you about dating when you signed up. I don’t have to tell you how inappropriate it would be for you to date your campaign manager.”
Uh-oh. My Spidey senses told me to tread carefully. Somehow, Erica had dialed into on the chemistry between me and Daniel, and she didn’t like it at all. Not that I blamed her. I’d been fighting our attraction from the beginning for all the reasons she was now preparing to list.
For once, I forced myself to resist going on the offensive. “I appreciate your concern, but Daniel and I aren’t dating. It’s a business lunch.”
She snorted. “There are eyes and ears everywhere.”
Daniel was smart, funny, interesting, supportive, and kind. Not to mention smoking hot. If Erica was going to penalize me for dating him, at the very least, I should be allowed to actually date him.
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