Page 19 of The Thorne at My Side
I reach up and press along my eye socket that still twitches under the pressure.
“Yeah, just the physical manifestation of my stress.”
“You need to bang it out.”
“What?”
“Bang it out? Have sex? The horizontal tango? Doing it? Getting laid? Shagging, nailing, boning? Buttering the biscuit?”
“Ew, I hate food ones.”
“You shouldn’t, sex can be a feast if it’s done right.” Sam explains as she gets a far off wistful look in her eyes. “I don’t care what you call it but you should be banging regularly. Especially between now and the election whentensionsare high.”
“There is no way I have the time or the mental capacity to date anyone right now.”
“I’m not saying date, I’m saying doin’. Get yourself a fuck buddy. No strings, just sex.” She pauses. “Unless getting tied up is your thing then all the strings but no feelings.”
“I don’t know.” I say with a shake of my head. I’ve never been one for sex for the hell of it. I’ve had long term boyfriends in the past and even though I knew they wouldn't last, I liked the consistency of a relationship. For now, my hand seems to be doing fine enough.
“Well I do. Just try it and see if it helps.”
Both of us spend the rest of our commute in our own thoughts.
I'm trying to figure out how I can stay employed if a computer is gunning for my job and can customize a message as well as I can.
So much of what I do early on with a politician is establish their voice. Work with them on their tone. Advise them on the differences in a campaign rally crowd and a trade group assembly. How their messages are going to be received in each arena.
While my professional future hangs in the balance, I can’t seem to get Sam’s sex-for-stress-relief idea out of my head. In fact, every time my eye twitches I’ve done a quick kegel which seems to help a little bit but it’s a short-term solution.
When we surface at Union Station we make our way towards the Dirksen building. I decide to shake off my defeated mindset because I'm not out of the game yet. The dreaded AI Media hasn’t even launched. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The senator has a debate comingup and we've got a lot of work to do.
???
"Are you out of your mind?"
"Maggie!" Sam whisper-scolds from my left.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, but with all due respect, what were you thinking? I know you said yesterday you were bringing in some support but I didn’t think it would be this!"
"I understand this is a surprise Maggie, but it is an opportunity I can't pass up.” Senator Quinn says calmly. Too calmly. Like maybe the deep state has something on her and they’re forcing her into this. I’m tempted to ask her to blink twice if she needs help.
“So, to clarify, you've contracted with AI Media on custom content for the rest of the campaign?"
"Yes, starting with the debate next week.” She folds her hands on the table in front of her. I don’t think that’s a universal distress signal.
“Why?" The senator blinks at my candor. I’ve never been this blunt with her, or anyone.
"Maggie, I can see that you're having trouble with this information but the AI Media team is coming in tomorrow to start the background work. They've promised me they can get everything into the system by next Tuesday and they'll be able to craft real-time responses for me during the debate."
"You're going to use them during the debate?"
"Yes, along with your prepared statements and rebuttals, I'll have a tablet with me and they'll be sending me lines to use based on audience response and who is tuned in."
"I, umm, okay." I can feel myself blinking hard but the nightmare I find myself in isn't ending.
"Thank you Senator," Sam says.
"Yes, thanks." I say on an exhale. With a nod, Senator Quinndismisses us from her office and we step out into the hall and close her door.
