The Phoenix Candidate(15)
“And you’re going to fix me?” I can’t keep the annoyance from my voice. “You’re going to stuff me in a voter-approved, soundbite-ready package?”
Jared chuckles and pulls me tighter against him. “Nope, I’m going to help you put your best foot forward and then stand back while you give them hell. You’re going to take risks and take a beating. You’re going to be scrutinized the way your male counterparts never will, and it’s not going to be fucking fair. Not at all.”
He pulls back slightly, so his eyes connect with mine. “But Grace, you’re going to get over that. You’re going to get past what’s unfair and beat them at their own game. Because you could actually win this thing. I’m convinced of it. If you’re as tough and smart and gutsy as I already think you are, you could win the whole damn thing.”
Chapter Eleven
Jared’s phone rings and he swipes the screen to answer it.
“Shep. Good news?” He stands, pacing my bedroom as he listens and nods. “I’ve started the process. We could leak her name as early as tomorrow.”
My mouth goes wide but he holds up a finger to shush me. He actually flipping shushes me.
Oh, hell no. I’m on my feet, ready for a fight.
“You want to swing back through Oregon and pick us up? Or have us meet you there?”
More nodding, and I get the distinct impression that I’m fully out of this decision-making process. Which pisses me off.
“Shall I give her the news?” He listens for a moment, then adds¸ “It’s not that she’s not willing. I can talk to her about it.”
He signs off the call and pockets his phone.
I plant my hands on my hips, ready to take him apart. “Leak my name? Really?”
“Decision time, Grace. Are you in or out?”
“Ha. You should be a car salesman.” I stalk out of the bedroom in search of wine. There’s a half-empty bottle in my fridge and I slosh it in a glass. I don’t bother offering him any.
“Grace.” His tone is warning.
“No. You listen to me. I am a U.S.-fucking-congresswoman. I got elected by an eight-point margin. I self-funded half of my first primary with life insurance money from my dead husband. And now you want to just pull some strings and leak my name and you think I’m going to shut up and take it?”
“Grace, stop it.”
“I will not stop it. I will not do what you tell me to do simply because you tell me to do it. Your job is to be a consultant? Fine. Consult. But you’re not a dictator. And you’re not going to make decisions for me. I decide what’s best for me and the First District and the seven hundred thousand I represent.”
I take a gulp of wine and in my frenzy it goes down the wrong pipe. I cough, then lean over the sink and really sputter. Fuck. I can’t even get mad properly.
Jared comes from behind me and tentatively slaps my back to help me get over the cough, but I scowl at him and he backs off.
When my voice is less strangled, I manage: “What about a negotiation?”
Jared’s expression hardens. “This isn’t a negotiation. This is vetting. I’ve got a job to do, just like you do. I’m here to assess, to see if you’re ready to do what it takes to get on the ticket. Or decide if you’re not a good fit.”
“Then I guess you’ve already decided.” I cross my arms. “I’m too much trouble. Maybe I’ve got too many opinions of my own? Too much thinking for myself? You can’t pick apart my closet and rewrite my life and expect I’ll just fall in line.”
“That’s exactly what I expect, Grace.”
“Then what was last night in the bar? Were you testing me? Did you want to see if I was easy? If I’d be a liability? Or was picking me up and fucking me just for your own personal amusement?”
He spins and stalks toward the door. “I think we let that get out of hand.”
“Out of hand?” My rage builds. “I’ll tell you what’s out of hand. You making decisions for me like I’m something that can be traded for political capital. I’m not a puppet, Jared.”
That last line lands like a blow to his chest and I see him physically shrink back. His eyes dart to my door, then back to me. He gives me a hard look, a challenge that threatens to take me out at the knees, but I stand my ground. I’m not giving him an inch.
He opens my front door. “Then I have my answer.”
***
I toss and turn in a tangle of sheets. I did the right thing. Right?
I stood up to Jared, stuck to my guns, owned who I am and what I stand for. So why does it feel like I just flushed the most important opportunity of my life?