He stepped closer, reaching for me as if to calm me with his touch. “You know it’s not like that. I was doing my job. Trying to get you elected.”
As much as I appreciated the effect he’d always had on me, right now, I didn’t want to be calm. I stepped backward. “By turning me into someone no one recognized?”
“By turning you into a winner. You’re a fighter. I didn’t create that; I didn’t change it. You’ve got fire. It’s what drew you to me in the first place.”
My voice cracked. “Ironic, isn’t it? Because you being drawn to me is what’s going to make us lose.”
“I don’t care about winning anymore,” he said. “Mel, please. I don’t want you to give up because of one jerk.”
“Yeah, well I care. Remember? I don’t have a job anymore. If Curtis wins, I won’t be allowed to open my own studio unless I move. Teaching is the only income I have, the only thing I know. And it’s gone.”
“I forgot. I got so caught up in winning, taking back the majority in the senate after so long…I’m sorry.” His voice shaking, he said, “I love you.”
I shook my head sadly. “Which me do you love? Mel the Pole Dancer? Or Melody the Politician?”
“What are you talking about?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “They’re both you.”
“I’m not sure that they are,” I said. “I told you upfront that I didn’t want to change who I am, and you insisted you didn’t want that, either. But I can’t help wondering. Would anything ever have happened between us if I’d declined Erica’s assistance and walked away from this whole thing?”
“Maybe?” he said. “I liked you. When you walked into my office that morning, my whole day brightened. Maybe once I knew who you were, I would’ve asked you out. But we’ll never know, because that’s not what happened.”
Great. We’d never know, because I’d let myself think any of this was a good idea. I should have insisted on being myself from the start, to win or lose with my head held high. I hated that I let everyone shame me. I ripped my jacket off, opened the top buttons of my blouse.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to find myself. See who is left underneath these stupid stiff clothes and layers of makeup.”
“Stop. You’re making a scene.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “And that’s all you care about, right? Staying under the radar, not making waves? Every time my true self shone through, even a little, you’d back away. This was never about me. It was about creating the perfect Stepford candidate.”
“If that’s what you think of me, then it’s probably good that we can’t be together.” He turned and walked away, shattering my heart.
All the words left me. I watched him go, mouth moving, with no sound. When he moved out of sight, my face crumpled. No longer caring if anyone saw, I sank to my knees on the pavement and let the tears flow.
CHAPTER 22
Phoenix: Before you attempt this move, make sure you can do a Chopper and Twisted Grip. As the name suggests, your body’s going to be rising like a Phoenix from the ashes. Take it slow at first to avoid injury.
- Push and Pole Fitness Tutorials, Vol. 4
The conservative news outlets declared Curtis the winner of the debate, probably because I left. The liberal media swore it was me for refusing to deal with his abuse and walking out. Reading the evaluations and the comments online made my head hurt. None of it gave me any real insight into how I was doing.
Over the weekend, I turned into a bundle of nervous energy. A cranky bundle of nervous energy. The day after the debate, I avoided Daniel by texting that I wasn’t feeling well and staying home. He and Erica had the campaign running just fine without me, and there wasn’t much I could do in the way of damage control. He didn’t call or text me back, and I left him alone. The election was in a few days, and at this point, we didn’t have much left to say to each other.
I needed to slowly accept the possibility that our relationship had been doomed from the beginning. We were too different, and our budding attraction couldn’t survive the stress of a campaign, especially not one that required me to do a total My Fair Lady. Turned out, the poised, polished Eliza Doolittle couldn’t completely shed her inner flower girl. Not in the internet age.
I never should’ve let Curtis get under my skin in the first place. Sure, someone with his narrow views shouldn’t be in politics making laws to oppress women. But somewhere along the line, I lost myself. I didn’t need Erica. If people would support a candidate for president with a wife who used to model naked, why couldn’t they support a pole fitness instructor for state senate. We were strong women, confident in our sexuality, and that shouldn’t be a weapon against either of us. Men who ran for election weren’t judged on “likability” or what they did in their free time; women shouldn’t be either.
Between Curtis’s attacks and Erica’s impossible expectations, I’d lost myself. My job didn’t define me. Whether I taught pole at the local dance studio or sat as the newest member of the New York State Senate, I was the same Mel Martin on the inside. That’s what I’d forgotten.
Unfortunately, a return to the old Mel wouldn’t solve any of my problems: Curtis would win the election, he’d convince the legislature to ban pole fitness, my new studio couldn’t open, and if I wanted to teach, I would be forced to pick up and go, starting over. I’d have to give up the first place I’d ever intended to call home for longer than a couple of years.
Sure, my family had lived in lots of interesting places. I’d seen and experienced more cultures in my teenage years than a lot of people did in their entire lifetimes. I’d learned to cook more than a dozen cuisines from all over the world. I’d loved all of it, but at the same time, I longed for a place to call my own. Put down roots. That’s what I thought I’d done here, but if I couldn’t teach here, I’d have to move on. Again.
At least if I moved, knowing Daniel and I couldn’t be together would hurt less. I couldn’t believe I let myself fall for someone who only liked the person he changed me into. Our chemistry was undeniable, but once you took away the physical attraction, I needed someone who liked me for me. Even if he apologized, how could I know he wouldn’t do it again?
Lana had to work over the weekend, so I borrowed her keys and spent several hours using her home studio, behind closed blinds, trying to work through my sorrow and frustration. I wound up sore and tired, but no closer to finding a solution.
Monday morning, Daniel asked me to meet him at HQ early, before everyone else showed up. Weird, but not entirely unexpected. Curious whether he intended to quit on me at the last minute, I thought about refusing. “What’s the point? Haven’t we already lost?”
“Please, Melody? I’d really like to talk to you.”
The plea in his voice tugged at my heartstrings. As tempting as it would be to spend the day in hiding, licking my wounds, I couldn’t let our argument after the debate be the last time I ever saw without the entire staff around.
“Okay. I’ll be in soon.”
He waited for me in his office, in the back room that once belonged to the store manager. Ammunition catalogs remained stacked in the corner, making me wonder once again what happened to the people who used to rent this place. They seemed to have left a lot of random stuff behind. Like the giant deer head on the wall. Daniel refused to take it down, which represented the reason I rarely came into his office unless I had to.
He motioned to the empty chair across from his desk. “Good morning. Have a seat.”
“Do I have to? That thing is looking at me.”
“You mean Curtis?”
I looked around the empty office before drawing the obvious conclusion. “You named a stuffed deer’s head after my opponent?”
He shrugged. “I had to call it something.”
“What’s going on, Daniel?” I asked when it appeared he wasn’t in a hurry to enlighten me. Surely he didn’t invite me here to talk abou
t the latest in taxidermy developments.
“We’ve been doing some research, and I wanted to share the results with you.”
“Sure. No problem.”
Research results seemed like the type of information that could’ve been conveyed by email, but maybe it was so top-secret, he didn’t want it in writing. Politicians could be weird like that.
“As you know, we do a lot of polling,” Daniel said. “We call registered voters, ask what makes them vote for someone, what makes them not vote for someone. Early results showed that people thought you were charismatic and seemed trustworthy. Older voters were unsure about voting for Curtis after what happened with his father.”
“You know, as much as I want him to lose, that doesn’t seem fair.”
“Fair or not, that’s what the voters said. You were holding your own.”
“And then after those pictures were viral, we lost points, right?”
“Right. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to regain that ground,” Daniel said. “I asked Erica to work with you because I knew the public’s perception of women in your line of work—not to mention, of female candidates in general. After the first couple of public appearances, you polled well. People thought you seemed genuine, down-to-earth, someone they could relate to.”
“If only the election had been held on Valentine’s Day,” I muttered. Or if only I’d never gotten this hare-brained idea in the first place. There must be better ways to stand up for free expression and women’s liberation.
He snorted. “I wish. Your numbers have been going straight downhill ever since the park incident.”
I sighed. “I apologized for that a hundred times.”
“I know, I know. And we can’t undo it. We need to move forward. I’m just saying, it hurt us.”
Unfortunately, he had a point. Arguing for the sake of arguing did nothing for me, so I conceded. “I know. Should I apologize again? Do a Twitter thread?”
“It’s too late,” he said. “Curtis has someone dogging you, posting your every misstep. Reposting the original viral video that caught his attention.”
That stupid video again. I resisted the urge to smack myself in the forehead. “So what you’re saying is, this is all my ex-boyfriend’s fault?”
“Maybe. If not you, Curtis would have found someone else to go after. Personally, I’m glad you made him sweat a little. But that’s beside the point. You came onto his radar, and now Curtis is taking every opportunity to reinforce his narrative.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“I know that and you know that,” Daniel said. “None of this is your fault, but we’re talking about public perception. People care more these days about jumping to conclusions and waving pitchforks than facts. Fake news equals click rates equals ad revenues. It’s all about sensationalism. When something big happens, it’s essential to draw first blood, to get your spin out there first. We missed our chance to do that.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Erica’s been out there, working to put the record straight,” Daniel said. “But the problem is these numbers from the weekend. The public doesn’t think apologizing would help. The press has done a real number on you, and a lot of our core group of voters say they won’t support you. They’d rather stay home tomorrow.”
My head dropped to the desk. “So that’s it? The election is over? I’m going to lose and Curtis is going to get my business shut down, and I’m left with nothing?”
In the beginning, the one high point in all of this had been the time spent with Daniel. Schmoozing and getting to know him while traveling in circles that he could show me how to navigate. The two of us growing closer as I tried to charm the people of my district. But even that silver lining turned out to be fleeting.
My heart ached.
This had all been for nothing. All the fights and the aggravation and the time I could’ve spent looking for my own studio space or advertising lost on creating the perfect, now useless, politician’s wardrobe. Expensive clothes I probably couldn’t return—especially not the ones I’d spilled food on. All the missed workouts and the classes. Time wasted plotting and campaigning that would’ve been better used doing anything else.
“Don’t give up just yet,” Daniel said. “We’ve got all day to think of something.”
“Something other than reminding everyone that they voted for Mr. Baker and he ditched them to join a pyramid scheme after leaving his wife of forty years?”
“Well, yes, preferably. This election isn’t about Mr. Baker. And it shouldn’t be about his personal life or yours.” He pushed away from the desk, pacing under that stupid deer. “There’s nothing wrong with being a fitness instructor. Americans love the gym, they love taking fitness classes, they love buying three-thousand-dollar exercise bikes. They also love instructors.
“The problem is, elections and media aren’t about truth anymore. They’re all about entertainment. And, unfortunately, what the media finds entertaining is dragging you through the mud, repeatedly.”
Ugh. I took a big gulp from my coffee. “Our society sucks.”
“Agreed.” He continued pacing.
“Can we sue Curtis? What he’s doing isn’t right.”
“It’s not right, but it’s unfortunately also not illegal. You’re a public figure now, and that gives him a little more latitude.”
“Why doesn’t the press follow Curtis around?” I grumbled. “He can’t be totally squeaky clean.”
Daniel’s lips twitched upward into a smile. “Because you’re much more interesting than he is. For one thing, you’re new. New is always more exciting. Everyone knows Curtis. But also, you’re not afraid to be yourself, even with experts helping you tone down. You don’t apologize. Curtis is a boring, cookie-cutter charming politician. He’s a used-car salesman with a trust fund.”
“A used car salesman with a trust fund…who secretly commits financial crimes? Maybe a bit of insider trading? I hear that’s a big thing with politicians now. Come on, he’s got to have a deep, dark secret somewhere.”
Daniel shook his head. “The guy’s a Boy Scout. Literally. He made Eagle Scout. Besides, I’ve run a clean campaign. Most of the things hurting us aren’t his fault.”
Part of me suspected that wasn’t entirely true. Curtis easily could have asked the media to follow me or tipped them off as to what I did for a living. After all, it was his objection to my occupation that got us into this mess in the first place. If he’d simply stumbled across the video of me falling on my butt, laughed, and moved on like the rest of the world, I’d be at home right now working on new combinations for my advanced classes.
The tiny bubble of hope I’d started to nourish burst. “Is there anything I can do?”
Daniel shook his head. “At the moment, I don’t know. I shouldn’t have asked you to drop by. It was selfish of me, but I wanted to see you, alone, before everyone else got here. You might as well go. Take the day off. Spend some quality time with Lana.”
I didn’t want to take the day off. I wanted to spend the day here, with him, working out a solution to our myriad problems. But he was right—the election needed to come first, and at the moment, there wasn’t anything for me to do. I’d be better off getting my head back in the game before the polls opened tomorrow.
“Right. Good idea.” I forced myself to pull back, out of his reach. “Thanks, Daniel. I’ll text you later.”
With shoes full of lead, I walked away. But I taught myself to dance on a pole with weights attached to my feet, and I could move with shoes full of lead. It was the only way right now.
An impromptu shopping trip might lift my spirits. If nothing else, the mall sold cookie dough and sushi burritos, neither of which could possibly make things any worse. Especially not if I brought my best friend.
Lana met me at her front door with a blender full of mimosas. It was early, but breakfast alcohol is an exception, right? I almost asked
for a straw, but accepted the large glass she offered.
Quickly I filled her in on the conversation Daniel and I had that morning. “I’m not even sure I want to be a senator anymore.”
“Well, not to piss in your cornflakes, but from what I see on the news, you’re not going to be.”
Her tone said she teased, but the words hit me in my gut. “That’s the whole problem. I decided to run because Curtis wanted to shut down Dance 4 U, and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing my livelihood. But then Erica insisted that I can’t continue to teach even if I win, and Daniel backed her up. Win or lose, I’m out my favorite thing in the world. And now I’ve lost someone I care about.”
Lana scoffed. “If he would let you walk away because of the strain of running for office, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m losing everything, and it’s all out of my control,” I said. “It’s one thing if the voters don’t connect with me or my ideas didn’t resonate. It’s completely different when the one thing that makes people not want to vote for me is what I used to do for a living.”
“That’s not the only thing. It can’t be. What about that guy who was a professional wrestler before he ran for governor? They don’t wear a lot of clothes, either, and no one cared.”
I sighed and took a long drink. “I agree with you, but apparently that’s different. He’s got the trifecta: rich, white, male. I am one of those things, and women are historically held to higher standards than men.”
“Still, I have to feel like, if the voters truly believe in your message, they’ll vote for you.”
“That’s not what the numbers are showing,” I said miserably. “Maybe I should just concede that Curtis won. Skip tomorrow’s photo opp at the polls, call to congratulate him.”
“And then what?” Lana said quietly. “Switch to teaching yoga or spin?”
Poll Dancer Page 15