Page 8 of Not the Plan

She was pleased with the credentials of the top two candidates, but a quick social media search eliminated them both: far too indiscreet for her taste. The third looked promising and came with a reference from a close colleague. She picked up the phone to call the young woman when a man’s face in a thumbnail of one of her photos caught Isadora’s eye. Dark hair, olive skin, glasses. She clicked the photo open, then exhaled, shaking her head at herself. It wasn’t him.

Like that would happen. Another coincidence to make up for the chance I missed.

Karim hadn’t faded from her memory. Which was unusual. She was focused on her professional life and did not have time for a personal one. Men were simply blips on her radar screen. The fact that this one had made an impact was a surprise. Straightening, she returned to her phone and dialed the number.

Let it go. I handled it as well as I could have, and I’m not letting a man distract me anyway.

—

“So, if I understand correctly,” the candidate said, “Majority Leader Etcheverri will become president pro tempore at the end of this session, and then he’ll run for Congress in two years?”

“That’s the goal,” said Isadora. “Although it isn’t guaranteed, he already has the appropriate level of support. If we end up working together, it will mean an increase in workload once he’s pro tem. Is that something you feel comfortable with?”

“Certainly. But he’ll leave the senate to run for Congress?”

“His state senate term will be up then,” said Isadora. “And once the current U.S. rep retires, the seat will be vacant.”

“Oh. Has she already announced her retirement? I heard she was planning to run again.”

Isadora smiled. She liked this girl. She knew to ask questions with diplomacy.

“These things are known in advance,” she said. “Within the party.”

“Ah. So, what happens then? Are you going to become chief of staff for someone else?”

“No. If things go according to plan, I’ll go with Leader Etcheverri to D.C.” She wanted to say that it had been her dream ever since a school trip to D.C. in the eighth grade. The day she discovered congressional aides existed she knew what she was going to be when she grew up. Even at that young age, she’d known that she wanted to make big changes in the world through politics, but the idea of being a politician herself turned her stomach. Shevalued her privacy far too much. Working with someone who didn’t mind being in the public eye struck the right balance.

And now, with years of experience under her belt, she’d become invaluable to Daniel in terms of driving his policy and managing his current staff, and they could rely on each other to meet their shared career goals, and most important, their goals for the state of California. In addition to her regular work, Isadora had been studying the trends on Capitol Hill and already had plans to help the nation move in a more progressive direction, just as she and Daniel had already done in California.

“Ah, I see. Sounds like a dream come true,” the candidate said, smiling.

Isadora grinned. She’d found her new assistant.

—

After a working lunch with two other chiefs of staff and a meeting on Daniel’s behalf with a reporter, Isadora ducked out early to surprise her best friend and colleague by picking him up from the airport. RJ hadn’t sounded very good when they’d spoken the night before.Though how should he sound? His uncle doesn’t have much time left.She and RJ had been attached at the hip since their master’s in public policy days and there was no one else she’d ever been as close to. His uncle had practically raised him, and Isadora had spent a lot of time getting to know him during his visits to see RJ. She knew that the love between the two men was strong and true. She’d lost her own father. Watching RJ be helpless before the decline of his paternal figure had been gutting. She knew what he was going through and wanted to help in any way she could.

Pulling into the airport parking lot, she cut the engine but didn’t remove her keys. She prepared herself by thinking of some of the great memories they’d shared, and of the many times he had stepped up to the plate to support her when she’d needed it. He’d told her a thousand times that she was more than returning the favor, and she planned to keep doing it, today in a lighthearted way.

Just outside the arrivals doorway, she adjusted the black chauffeur’s hat she’d picked up and smoothed her hands down her suit jacket. The doors flipped open, and she pulled the clipboard out from under her arm and held it up, scanning for her friend. He was kind to be as tall as he was. A shaggy blond lock fell over his brow as he shook his head, smiling. She couldn’t return the gesture quite as well: RJ never left the house without his hair perfectly styled. That he’d flown halfway across the country without a lick of gel meant things were probably worse than he’d let on.

“You know,” he said as he reached her, the sad smile still in place, “it usually works better if the client’s name is right-side up.” He flicked the clipboard and Isadora looked down to check. She was holding it upside down.

“Oh, you get the idea,” she said. “Come here.” She stood on tiptoe to hug him, squeezing tight. The deep sigh he let out only confirmed what she’d thought. “I didn’t make you laugh a little?”

He stood up straight and smiled. “You know you did. Thanks.”

“Come on, got chocolate in the car.”

Had it been any other situation, she would have teased him about his un-styled hair and the bags under his eyes. But her intimate knowledge of what he must be feeling kept her from falling into their usual banter.

“You got something you want to say?” he asked as she pulled out of the garage.

“Why?”

“You’re all tense. Giving off that stuck-in-between vibe you have when you’re trying to choose.” He popped another truffle into his mouth.

She couldn’t contain the smirk. He knew her better than anyone.

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