Page 15 of Pursuit of Happiness

“I started right out of law school, after an internship with theoffice before graduation.”

“Dedicated.”

“Or crazy. It’s not exactly the golden ladder of legalprofessions.”

“Consider your audience. I get consulting offers all the time,but leaving the service has never been an option for me.”

“Where are you stationed now?”

“I have a tenured position at McNair, which makes it easy, but Ispent most of my military career jumping from base to base, mostly overseas.It’s been an adjustment staying in one place, but being close to Rook makes itworth the effort. The only land mines I’m in danger of now are the ones thatare buried in campus politics. Not my favorite, but definitely not life-threatening.”

Stevie got it. Her career wasn’t without its fair share ofpolitics. The federal public defender—head of her office—was usually apolitical appointee, and the philosophies of the office often shifted with achange at the top. But for the most part, she’d managed to steer clear ofbureaucratic squabbles and focus on her cases. Until last week when she’dappeared before the committee to talk about sentencing guidelines, but eventhat came with the bonus of meeting Meredith Mitchell.

“Have you known Meredith long?” Zoey asked like a mind reader.

“Not hardly. We met last week. A work thing.”

“That bodes well. Rook and I met at a work thing. It wasn’t themost fortuitous start, but it worked out well for us.”

Stevie returned Zoey’s smile but not her enthusiasm. Tonight hadbeen fun, but she could have fun with her coworkers on a night out at happyhour. Besides, fleeting fun, full of interruptions wasn’t what she was lookingfor, if she was looking for anything at all.

Later that night, reclining on her couch with a beer, Stevieflipped through the channels looking for something mindless when MSNBC showedup on her scroll. She hesitated for just a second before stopping her searchand tuned in to hear the anchor recapping the stories of the evening.

“While many of Washington’s elite were gathered at the NationalBuildings Museum for the wedding of Chief Justice Addison Riley to PresidentGarrett’s chief of staff, Julia Scott, Democratic presidential hopeful SenatorConnie Armstrong was hunkered down at her DC campaign headquarters bracing forthe fallout from tonight’s leading story. Earlier this evening, Justice United,the website notorious for breaking scandalous stories, published dozens ofdamaging emails from the Armstrong campaign on their website with promises ofmore to come. We’re still analyzing the information that’s been released, andI’m turning now to our DC correspondent to detail what we know so far.”

Unable to resist now that she felt like she was part of thestory, Stevie leaned back and watched the show.

“Thanks, Brian. We’re only going to discuss what we’ve managed toauthenticate so far, but even with this little bit, it’s a dark day forArmstrong.” He pointed to the screen beside him, and an image appeared of anemail exchange between Connie Armstrong and one of her high level staffers. Hespent a few minutes outlining the issue, but Stevie could clearly see thatConnie had authorized firing a female staff member who’d threatened to reportalleged sexual abuse from Connie’s chief of staff, Dan Nealy.

The correspondent flashed a few more slides and then kicked itback to the anchor who introduced a panel. She didn’t need to hear their backand forth to know that Connie Armstrong’s campaign was in trouble. Her ownwords came back to haunt her. Connie wasn’t her first choice for the Democraticnomination, but she was probably the strongest candidate in the race. Maybe shecould make a comeback.

Wondering what Meredith thought about the breaking news, Steviestarted to reach for her phone to text her but stopped short. Meredith wasbusy, and this little dalliance was over. She’d seen enough tonight to knowthat no matter how much they connected one-on-one, she and Meredith would neverrun in the same circles, and Meredith’s life was all about running in circles.Tomorrow, she’d have brunch with Hannah and dish about her night of beingCinderella at the ball, and then she’d tuck away the memory as a once in alifetime experience.

Chapter Four

Meredith sipped the cold coffee and held back a shudder. Anycaffeine was better than no caffeine considering how many more briefing papersshe had left to read, and she didn’t have the energy to get up and make a freshcup.

“Go home,” Jen said. “I’ll read the rest of those. You could usea good night’s sleep. Or better yet, get laid, but be discreet. Hey, what aboutthat woman you brought to the wedding last weekend? She looked like she’d befun in bed.”

Meredith picked up a pencil and threw it across the table withdeadly aim. “You know that line you walk between sister and staffer? You justcrossed it in about a dozen different ways.”

Jen raised her hands in protest. “What? I was merely making anobservation. You’ve been going ninety to nothing all week. If you don’t getsome rest or,” she paused to offer a meaningful grin, “relaxation, you’re goingto implode. Besides, I set up a meeting for tomorrow morning with the DNC, andyou’re going to want to be fresh for what they have to say.”

Meredith set her mug down hard. “No, Jen. I told you, we’re notwading into this.”

“They requested the meeting. Are you really going to deny themthe opportunity to make their pitch?”

Rumors had been swirling around the capital since Connie hadbowed out of the race about who would be the best person to take up the partybanner, but the pundits were lukewarm about the rest of the candidates left inthe field. The twenty-four-hour news cycle meant they’d quickly run out ofthings to say about the remaining players, so cable news had turned to thetopic of new blood and just who could enter the race and turn the primary onits head. Meredith’s name was topping every list.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing what they have to say, but under verydifferent circumstances. Whoever leaps to the front of the line is going tohave a lot of catching up to do. Considering we haven’t been in the race atall, there’s no way we can get up to speed.”

Jen tossed a file on her desk. “Not entirely true.” She pointedat the file. “Take that home and read it. Michael’s been hard at work over thelast year gathering data, and all his projections have you ahead in the pollswithin a week of entering the race.”

Meredith didn’t open the folder containing their brother’shandiwork. “Those numbers are just fluff. People like the bright, shiny newcandidate. Does he have polls showing projections closer to the New Hampshireprimary?”

“Matter of fact, he does.” Jennifer picked up the folder andshoved it in Meredith’s briefcase. “Erica’s waiting for you out back. Thenumbers don’t lie. Go home, sleep on it, and we’ll talk in the morning beforethe meeting. If you’re really not interested, I won’t push you, but all theplanning in the world won’t create this perfect storm of opportunity. Don’twaste this chance. The motto for the day is fresh face wins the race. Theremight be something to this.”

Meredith slid into the back seat of the car and stared out thewindow as Erica drove to her apartment near the Capitol while Jen’s wordsplayed over and over in her mind. As aggravating as it was, Jen was right. Politicswas fifty percent planning and fifty percent chance. Her long-term planconsisted of finishing out her current Senate term before considering apresidential run, and if Armstrong were to have won, then waiting another fourto eight years before mounting her own campaign. Stepping in now seemedincredibly risky and chaotic. But what if this was her best chance to securethe Democratic nomination?

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