The Phoenix Candidate(14)

“Oh.” I blink. “Call me crazy, but I thought you were a consultant on, like, real issues? Why are we playing fashion show?”

Jared leaves my bedroom and retrieves a slim e-reader from his briefcase. He tosses it on my bed. “This is for you. It’s loaded with what the senator needs you to know, and I’ll be sending more documents to it. You’ll need to read a couple hundred pages a day to keep up.”

I gape.

“You said you wanted real issues. You’ll need to prep for everything.”

I sit on the bed, click the e-reader on and there are dozens of documents: the senator’s detailed biography, his voting record, his platform, major programs, foreign policy, top campaign donors, and talking points for the press.

There’s even a section called Grace Colton Biography.

Why would I need to read up on myself? I open it and scan the document in silence as Jared sorts through my shoes and handbags.





The major theme in Grace Colton’s life is rising from the ashes. As a scholarship student, Colton was the first in her family to attend college. She put herself through law school and earned a prestigious role in contract law at the firm Leverda, Maloney and Probus.

When personal tragedy struck, Colton again rose from the ashes. A gunman armed with three semiautomatic weapons rampaged at Willamette Mall, killing three people and wounding three more during the busy Christmas shopping season. Her husband Seth and son Ethan were among those killed.

Grace Colton ran for Congress in 2012 on a platform of gun control stemming from her personal tragedy, gaining national attention and funding for her campaign. Her re-election to the congressional seat two years later included more moderate positions on environmental reform and social issues, but her anti-gun legislation is noted as having “the most teeth since the Brady Bill.”





I stare at the e-reader dumbly. “Why do you have my bio on here?” I ask.

Jared turns and has the good grace to look a little bit guilty. “So we have a consistent message.”

“Consistent?” I find my voice rising. “I’d think I could remember what’s happened in my life. To see it reduced to this…”

Jared sits next to me on the bed and grasps my hands. “Grace, take a breath. This is not us trying to rewrite history, OK? This is us trying to manage the stories that are going to come out in the media moving forward.”

“So you’re rewriting history.”

“No, we’re just crafting a narrative that makes sense in the context of Senator Conover’s campaign. He needs you for certain issues and to catch certain demographics. We need to highlight the right stories from your life.”

“You’re using Seth and Ethan.”

“No more than you use Seth and Ethan. You honor their memory by holding them up as an example.”

“But they’re mine. I lost them. Not you. Are you saying Senator Conover’s going to get on the sob train? Are you going to manufacture the little tear that creeps into the corner of his eye when he talks about people he’s never met?” I can’t keep the rising hysteria from my voice.

“No, Grace.” He grasps my face in his hands and tips his forehead against mine. “I promise we’re not. I’m not about changing what’s real about you. I’m about picking and choosing what you have to offer and showing the world the best side of you.”

I take a steadying breath. “What if I can’t get this right? What if I screw up, and say something stupid, or go off-script? I haven’t even finished my second term in Congress and I’ve never been under the media microscope the way Conover has.”

“I’ve studied this into the ground, woman.” Jared’s hands slide from my face to the back of my neck, then down my back, pulling my body against his. “This is what I do. I’m not the guy in the spotlight. I’m the one behind the scenes.”

I narrow my eyes. I know so little about Jared, yet he knows so much about me. “This is what you do?”

“For twenty years. My first big campaign was Conover’s first run for the senate. I’ve been all over the country with other campaigns, and four successful elections with Conover.”

“So you do this to Conover too? Go through his wardrobe, reshape his history?”

“I’ve never had to do much with his history,” Jared says with a shrug. “It’s clean, it’s old money, it’s exactly what voters expect.”

“But I’m not.”

Jared tips his head, his eyes searching. “You’re right. You’re not a … conventional … candidate. But that’s where I come in. I’m the fixer.”