Page 6 of Primary Season
“Think we can handle it?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I hope so.”
But I wasn’t sure. Not even close.
“Okay, team, look alive,” Doug said over a sloshing cup of coffee as he stood in the back of Patrick’s modified campaign bus.
Outside, the rolling hills of New Jersey passed as the bus rolled down I-95. Each minute on the road took us closer to the Palmetto State and our next fight on the way to the White House.
“We already have some good news.” Doug paused as if to make sure each of us paid careful attention to his next sentence. “We already start today ahead, and god knows we need it. For those of you who haven’t checked your emails, two of our opponents dropped out this morning. Tom Sutton and Mark Grace suspended their campaigns a short time ago. We’ll be reaching out to some of their staff members and volunteers to see if they are willing to join our team.”
A small round of applause and a few triumphant cheers traveled through the bus; Doug hushed all of us after a few seconds.
“That doesn’t mean we can get ahead of ourselves, folks. As we know, the Palmetto State is going to define everything about us, and we should expect a fight. Unfortunately, Governor Sayers is still in the race, and he’ll be a huge challenge for us. Patrick is a fantastic politician, but so is Sayers. He’s probably our strongest opponent, and he has a huge network.” As he spoke, Doug tapped his pen to emphasize each word. “We can’t afford to let up.”
“He’s right,” Heather said. “Just this morning, CNN reported that Sayers may get the endorsement of Charleston’s mayor by the end of the week.”
Doug shook his head and clenched his jaw. “Let’s discuss whereweare on earned media. Looking at our budget, our media exposure will have to be the crux of this campaign. It’s free, it’s everywhere, and we must leverage it.” Doug flipped through a few pages on his clipboard. “Starting with TV, I saw some good coverage on the networks last night. Would you agree, Alex?”
“Yes,” I said as I unlocked my iPad and opened the spreadsheet where I logged this kind of information. “All the cable stations carried the victory speech live in its entirety, and the networks dipped in for a few moments. I checked Twitter this morning and Patrick’s official handle has more than five thousand new followers. He also briefly trended last night. TheNew York Times,The Washington Post,LA Times, andThe Guardianall have cover stories, and he’s booked on MSNBC’sPolitics Nowtonight in the nine ten interview slot…”
I droned on and on, rattling off what Doug wanted to hear, but while my mouth said the right words, my mind wasn’t in the game. I kept thinking about Patrick, Kathryn, and what he’d revealed to me the night before. I couldn’t get past it.
“Alex?”
I blinked.
“Are you listening to me?” Doug’s voice interjected my thoughts. “I just asked you a question. Do you have the answer?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, what?”
Doug’s jaw tightened and he shot Heather an annoyed look. “I said, what’s the comparison between the coverage on Patrick versus the national media focus on Sayers? Do you have that?”
“Oh, yes.” I shrugged off my thoughts and swiped through the report. We had a lot of research on Howard Sayers, the evangelical, blue-dog governor of Alabama who won his seat when the GOP candidate found himself forced to drop out after being accused of child pornography. Sayers leaned center, proudly called himself a conservative Democrat, and had made a name for himself around Washington through long filibusters and theatrics. “They still consider him a frontrunner, especially when it comes to South Carolina. He’s polling at 35% support right now across that state, which is double anyone else.”
“Thank you.” Doug sighed and turned to Brian Long, a volunteer with southern ties. “What do you think about attacking his veto in Alabama of Senate Bill 234?”
I settled back into my seat and let their voices fade into the background again. We still had more than eleven hours to go on our trip, and while we rode in the official bus toward Charleston, Patrick traveled on the Van der Loons’ private plane. His schedule had him at a lunch fundraiser in New York followed by a stop in DC that afternoon. He planned to join us in South Carolina that night.
When the meeting ended, I closed my eyes. No wonder Patrick had hooked up with Kathryn; even he had insisted it was political alliance, and for show only. A man like him needed a woman who’d complement him, a woman who would be able to float along during his meteoric rise up the chain of American politics.
No matter what chemistry I thought Patrick and I had, I couldn’t do that. Not even close.
I didn’t have endless connections and a name synonymous with American elitism. I came from a middle-class family in Omaha, and I got into Tulane because I had good grades in high school and three hundred hours of volunteering with Girls on the Run, where I coached fifth graders. I paid for Tulane by working at the call center for a New Orleans dinner cruise company. Now, after years of sixty-hour DC work weeks, I had a chance to own something. If Patrick won the White House, we’d all benefit. I’d get any job I wanted.
My iPhone buzzed. I opened my eyes and slipped it out of my pocket.
Patrick:Sutton and Grace never saw us coming.
Me:Don’t get too cocky. Sayers won’t hesitate to throw his hardest punches.
Patrick’s reply came about twenty seconds later.
Patrick:Promise me we can punch back? I know we have a lot of opposition research on him.
Me:Only if we HAVE to. How’s lunch, by the way? I hope it’s better than the gas station fare we had.
Patrick:Doug being tight with the budget again?
