Page 8 of See You Next Tuesday

“That is a great idea.” Toby turned to Gabe. “Why didn’t you think of it?”

Gabe flushed red. It was a good idea, and he should have thought of it, but that didn’t mean he needed to sit here and listen while Anya watched him with a self-satisfied little smirk.

“Speaking of voter contacts, I have a phone bank out in Piqua I promised to stop by,” he said as he stood up. “I should head over before the traffic gets bad.”

“Oh! Piqua!” Anya started shuffling through her papers again. “If it’s not too late to adjust those call scripts—”

“It is,” Gabe gritted.

“Well, for next time—”

“Why don’t you email it to me?” Gabe tried to make his face and voice seem as friendly as possible, but he wasn’t sure how well he was hiding that this woman got on his last nerve.

Toby glanced at his watch, then made meaningful eye contact with Dawn. “Actually, it’s almost three-thirty. So we should probably all take a break?”

Anya looked confused. “I still have a lot to get through?”

“That’s okay, this will only take a second.” Dawn smiled a touch too brightly, leaving no doubt in Gabe’s mind that she and Toby were up to something.

Gabe opened the door onto the HQ bullpen—a big space that might be a phone bank, a sign-making pizza party, or a staging location for a canvass, depending on the day—and was immediately met with crowds of staff and volunteers holding balloons, wearing dumb paper hats, and blowing on noisemakers.

“Happy birthday!” they screamed, and Gabe broke into a wide smile as his favorite cadre of older ladies (super vols from a nearby retirement community, every one of whom had tried to fix up Gabe with a daughter or granddaughter) approached with a big homemade sheet cake festooned with lit candles. The whole group started singing, and Gabe’s bad mood melted away. He saw that Anya was smiling bigger than anyone—she even looked a little misty-eyed? Okay, that was weird, but maybe sweet?

Until the group sang “Happy birthday, dear Gabe,” and her expression changed completely. Her face fell, and her cheeks flushed with color as she cast her eyes downward and clasped her hands together. Which is when Gabe remembered exactly how he knew her—and that today was her birthday too.

He was hit with a sudden wave of guilt. She might be an overbearing outsider who thought she could do his job better than he could, but that didn’t mean he’d needed to be a jerk to her on her damn birthday.

“Gabe?” Dawn prodded him.

“Yeah?” He turned to her, dazed.

“Aren’t you going to blow out your candles?”

“Right, duh,” he laughed. “Had to think of a really good wish.”

He winked at his favorite volunteers, then blew out all the candles. Everyone cheered and applauded, and the retirees went to slice up the cake and hand it out on paper plates. Gabe turned to find Anya; if an apology wasn’t entirely necessary, at the very least he wanted to wish her a happy birthday. But he didn’t see her anywhere, and she didn’t turn up the whole time they were chatting and eating cake. By the time they finished, it was almost four, and Gabe really did need to hit the road. There were hungry phone-bankers in Piqua.

Chapter 3

Text message transcript: Anya Katz and Lev Chlebek

Lev [3:41pm]: Hey, did you get me the polling update for WI-9?

Anya [3:47pm]: Hi! So sorry, town hall ran long last night

Anya [3:47pm]: It was incredible, we had all these college kids talking about student debt, job opportunities, all the reasons they support Coach Salditch

Anya [3:48pm]: Anyway I can write the report when we break for dinner if that works?

Lev [3:51pm]: Need it ASAP

Lev [3:51pm]: I know things are busy over there, but we can’t neglect the home office

Anya [3:52pm]: Right, of course

Anya [3:52pm]: I’ll get on it now, sorry for the delay!

Lev [3:52pm]: Thanks kid