“You’re a ball-busting liberal feminist who’s got itallfigured out. You blindly follow the party line and never stop to question the BS you’re fed. Your reaction to every political issue is to scream ‘feminine oppression.’ You’re judgmental and intolerant of anyone who dares hold an opinion different than your own. Just another bleeding heart who has no idea how to come up with effective real-world policy. Free child care, free health care, free college, free everything! Never mind who’s going to pay for it. What could go wrong?”
He leans closer, and this time I do step back. “I’m sure you’re the type of woman who gets offended if a man deigns to open the door for her. You’re also an uptight, entitled princess who’s clearly never heard the wordno. So overall, I’d say you’re the perfect example of everything that’s wrong withwomen.”
Whenever I’ve seen a movie where a woman hauls off and slaps a man, I’ve always secretly wondered what it would feel like, just how angry you’d have to be to feel like hitting someone is an appropriate response. I wonder no more. My fingers tingle at my sides.
He watches me as my fury builds, a wisp of a smile on his face. “You’re right, all that name-callingdidhelp me feel better.”
The elevator doors finally open and he steps inside, punching a button.
“How dare you.” My words come out in a strangled growl.
“Careful, Kate. You’re gonna need my help over the next eight years a lot more than I’ll need yours.”
“Eight years?” I sputter. “Try four. Three and a half. And the world will end before I ever ask for your help again.”
He shrugs, his expression smug. “You better hope that’s what happens, because my new mission in life is to piss you off. You want Hammond’s support? You’ll have to go through me to get it.”
He chuckles like this is hilarious as the doors shut in his face.
Chapter 4
Three days have passed since my ill-fated meeting with Ben, and I consider myself #blessed that I haven’t had another run-in with the Oaf, as Stephen and I have taken to calling him. Not that I haven’t noticed him around the building—frankly, he’s impossible to miss. He’s tall enough that I can spot him down a hallway and head in the opposite direction, and the handful of times I spy him getting on or off the elevator, I take the stairs. The upside of dodging Ben Mackenzie: My calves have never looked better.
Luckily, winter session is one of our busiest times of year, so I don’t have much time to dwell on the situation. I’m still working on drumming up conservative support for our bill as well as juggling other legislative research. By the time Friday rolls around, I could weep in relief. Carol travels back to New Hampshire most Fridays to attend to state business, and in her absence the office is as quiet as a church.
Which makes the morning disruption that much more infuriating.
I’ve just returned from a coffee run when I spot a manila envelope on my desk markedKate Adams, SH 708. My regular mail stack arrives in the afternoons, so it must have been hand delivered. I open theenvelope and extract a heavy paperback book with a note paper-clipped to the front cover. When I see the name on the letterhead, my blood runs ice-cold.
Ms. Adams,
Saw this and thought you could use a brushup. I’ve taken the liberty of highlighting a few passages you may find useful.
Please don’t hesitate to reach out for help. I have a lot of experience drafting successful legislation, and my door is always open for idealistic dreamers like yourself.
Yours in displeasure,
Inbred Redneck Jackass Oaf
Ben Mackenzie
I unclip the note from the cover and let out a gasp.
Legislation for Dummies.
I flip through the book and it’s a blur of yellow highlighted passages blanketing nearly every page. He’s made “helpful” annotations in the margins like:Try not to insult the people you need on your side;Draft a bill that has a chance in hell; and this gem:Bizarre footwear won’t distract people into voting yes.
“Stephen!” My shriek can probably be heard from the White House.
He’s in my office in seconds, breathless. “What is it? Did you find another roach in here?”
“Worse.” I toss the book on my desk like it’s singed my fingers.
He picks it up and starts thumbing through it. When I hand him the note he whistles, low and slow.
“Did you see him come in here? Was he in my office?” I duck under my desk and check for booby traps.
“Calm down. And no, I think it was dropped off by an intern.”
