Page 37 of See You Next Tuesday

“Good morning, Congresswoman,” Kira said. “To be honest, I think we’ve all been guilty of a little vibe murder today.”

“How Orient Express of you.” Jo stepped into the room and pulled up a chair next to Simone. “Catch me up. What’s going on?”

“Preethi got you an interview with Brent Hogan,” Gabe told her. “He wants to do it Thursday.”

“Excellent!” Jo beamed. “But I’m in DC for votes on Thursday. Can he do next week?”

“Congresswoman, we think it may be a good thing to keep you out of DC,” Kira said delicately.

“Who thinks that?” Jo asked, her tone inquisitive, not accusatory. “All of you?”

“No.” Anya clasped her hands under the table. “Not all of us.”

Anya didn’t like to break ranks, but part of her job was stating her opinion to the candidate. She wouldn’t belabor the matter, but she wouldn’t stay silent either.

“Okay, talk me through it,” Jo said. “Why is skipping the vote a good idea? Because the electorate is to my right on immigration, and showing up for the vote only reminds them of that, which is a pointless exercise since the bill won’t pass anyway?”

“More or less.” Gabe nodded.

“And Anya thinks I should go to DC”—Jo turned to Anya—“because if I skip the vote to go on some center-right podcast, our progressive supporters will call me a hypocrite and small-donor money will dry up?”

“Also because it’s the right thing to do,” Anya said quietly.

Jo turned to Gabe and grinned. “It’s cute how she always brings that up, isn’t it?”

“She’s very consistent.” Gabe’s gaze flicked over to Anya for half a second, but then he looked back at Jo.

“You’re both smart, but you’re both wrong,” Jo said.

“Ma’am?” Anya frowned.

“I need to go to DC to vote on Thursday because it’s my job,” she said. “My constituents don’t skip work because it’s politically expedient and neither do I. But I understand that leaves us with a communications problem. Gabe, have you drafted my speech for the picket line tomorrow?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Culinary 226 has helped thousands of immigrants become citizens—it’s one of their proudest accomplishments as a union.” Jo tilted her head, thinking. “So let’s focus the remarks there, okay? The economic impact of immigration reform, but also the deeper calling of the labor movement, the right of all people to live and work with dignity. Hit it hard. I can’t bring voters around to my way of thinking unless I make a full-throated case. And I’d be thrilled to talk with Brent Hogan about that topic or any other on any day except Thursday. Sound good?”

There was a chorus of “yes, ma’ams,” and Jo left to go take one of her million meetings of the morning before she had to leave for her afternoon event in Crystal Springs.

“She’s gonna be president someday,” Anya sighed.

“Are you kidding?” Simone snorted. “No way is this country good enough for her.”

“Okay, I think we’re all set here.” Kira wrapped up the meeting. “Anya, Gabe, can you hang back a minute? I want to check in on email approvals.”

Anya glanced at Simone, who pointedly looked down as she sped out of the conference room; everyone else seemed to be in a hurry too. Ugh, was it that obvious that Anya and Gabe were about to get in trouble? Dale closed the door behind him, and Kira sat back down at the head of the table.

“I think you both know we can’t keep going like this,” Kira said quietly. She was usually so chill and affable; it made Anya feel awful to see her in distress.

“I agree,” Gabe said brusquely. “I want Shawn to take over email approvals.”

Anya gave him a withering look. “You think that’s actually what this meeting is about?”

Gabe peered at Kira. “Wait. What’s this about?”

“It’s about us.” Anya sniffed. “Obviously.”

“Us?” Gabe looked incredulous. “I’m not the one who can’t let anyone have fun—”