Campaign

Thanks to my consultant Qetesh, to editor Use MakeItNasty1212 for many improvements and to TessSoerensen for catching more errors before submission.

Ronald looked at Elizabeth as she rolled off of him. Her expression of satisfaction seemed to be mixed with something unusual for her. She looked smug.

Usually, after sex, she nestled into his arms and they lay quietly together. But now she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips, stopped, then did it twice more before she pressed her body to his and relaxed.

"What was that for?"

"It was a charade. Did you get it?"

"No."

"I was a bunny."

"Why were you a bunny?"

"Because we just fucked like rabbits."

"Is it because we usually make love at night and rabbits fuck early in the morning?" he asked.

"No. Rabbits fuck all day long, every chance they get. And when they come to work, they have this expression on their faces. It's sort of a smirk. They have to be careful what they say during office hours, but their expression tells you they've been thoroughly fucked since the last time you saw them. Today, I won't be the only one without a smirk."

"Are you talking about the Masterson campaign?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand."

"Paula explained it to me. I asked her one day why almost everybody, including her, often wore that expression in the morning. She said it's because they were all out fucking like rabbits the night before, and some of them also had a quickie before they came to work."

"You don't say."

"She's one of the salaried professionals. She's not that old, but she's already worked on a lot of campaigns. She said it's always the same, and by the election, there's no difference between the volunteers and the pros.

"It's the excitement and the constant ups and downs. Every day there are little victories and little disappointments and, sometimes, big ones. She said it stirs up everyone's blood to the boiling point, so they pair off and fuck like rabbits every chance they get. Most of them swap around because they don't care which body it is, as long as it's handy. Some of them even get together and have mini-orgies."

"Where do you fit into this?" Ronald asked.

"I've been an outsider up to now. It amused me at first, especially when some of the guys hit on me. But then I became envious, so I decided to do something about it. I hope you didn't mind."

He laughed.

"Not at all."

"Would you be willing to sacrifice your body to help me out until the election?"

"Give me a minute to think about it. Okay. The answer is yes."

"Then you need to cut back on some of your evening meetings. I was ready for action last night, but I fell asleep before you came home. That's why I had to wake you this morning."

"Sorry."

She kissed him and jumped out of bed.

"Hey!"

"I've got to get going. Tonight, we'll have plenty of time."

"Tonight! But tonight I've got an ... an appointment that I'll reschedule as soon as I get to the office."

"You are the most thoughtful husband."

"Can I join you in the shower?"

"No, and you know why. You have to wait until tonight. Can you handle it?"

"I don't know. Is there a supply room at campaign headquarters? Maybe I can get away from my office and meet you there."

*********************

When their youngest son was applying to colleges in the spring, Elizabeth began looking for work. Before resigning to give birth to the first of their three children, she had been an executive in a high-powered public relations agency, so she began talking to former colleagues.

The only openings available were for inexperienced college graduates at minimum starting salaries, so she resigned herself to the fact that it would take some time to get back in the thick of things.

When some girlfriends at lunch enthused about Andrew Masterson, the young candidate for senator, a light bulb went on in her head. Money didn't mean anything to her except as validation of her success because Ronald's real estate development and management business was hugely profitable. They had enough money to spend the rest of their lives globetrotting in style, but both of them enjoyed working.

Elizabeth asked her friends to tell her more about Masterson. They were both married, but the first things out of their mouths were about what a hunk he was. He was handsome, fit, and energetic. As a bonus, he was smart, dedicated, and idealistic.

This was his first try at running for office after building a large employment business empire from scratch. It was based on the idea that there was a huge untapped pool of what Masterson called "disposable employees," available in all ages, from right out of high school to retirees in their eighties.

Masterson felt that most of these unemployed men and women had skills that could benefit large and small companies, but other employment agencies and websites didn't want to bother spending resources to find out what they were. He assembled a team of psychologists and coders and soon was making money while at the same time building an army of loyal followers who wouldn't use any agency but his.

His political platform was based on tackling unemployment by using some of the same systems that his company used, and he was fighting entrenched politicians who were more interested in maintaining alliances than making waves.

Masterson appealed to thoughtful young voters. He also had a beautiful wife and three cute children under ten, so voters with traditional values warmed to him. His largest constituency was the one that included her friends. It was made up of women of all ages, some married, most not, who fantasized about him. Looking at him as they listened to him, he appeared to be a hero out of a romance novel: masculine, lusty, decisive, handsome, and imperious, yet tender and empathetic at the same time.

After the lunch, Elizabeth began researching Masterson, and the more she found out, the better he looked. She ran her idea by her husband, and he said he also liked Masterson as a candidate and agreed with her idea to volunteer in his campaign. She could immediately jump into a job where she could use her public relations skills, and if Masterson could upset the incumbent, her involvement would re-establish her credentials.

She was interviewed by the campaign manager, Stan, and his assistant, Paula. Elizabeth could tell within minutes that they wanted her. They spent almost an hour and a half with her asking her all kinds of questions about what appealed to her about Masterson and the best ways to market him to women in her demographic.

They also asked her some illegal questions about her relationships with her husband and children. She wasn't upset, partly because she had nothing to hide but mostly because the questions showed that Stan and Paula trusted that she wouldn't embarrass them in court for their flouting of employment laws, even though she wasn't being paid. That showed they already thought of her as a member of their team.

Stan, especially, was almost crude in his probing. They both apologized near the end of the meeting and told her they had to be careful because Masterson was now a celebrity, and they had already dealt with a couple of female stalkers.

Less than two weeks after joining the campaign, she was appointed to a newly created position as supervisor of volunteers. She no longer reported to Paula but to Stan directly, and she participated in the strategy meetings the executive team held with Masterson.

At the meetings, Stan was in charge, and the candidate deferred to him the same way as Elizabeth and the others on the team did. Stan had decades of experience in running campaigns, and he impressed Elizabeth. Though the professionals and volunteers were in awe of him, he was self-deprecating and often told stories about funny experiences in his early campaigns, especially when there were disagreements. The one who screwed up in all his anecdotes was always himself, and when everyone laughed at his foibles, it eased the tension, and everyone got back to business.

"Did all those things really happen to him?" Elizabeth once asked Paula.

"Most of the worst blunders were by people who worked with him," Paula replied. "I asked him once why he took credit for them, and guess what he told me?"

"Everything he said or did during a campaign had only one purpose," Elizabeth offered.

They both laughed. Everyone had heard Stan say that dozens of times.

All the members of the steering committee had one-on-one sessions with Stan at least once a week. During his meetings with Elizabeth, she submitted suggestions from the other volunteers and herself, and they discussed them. Once they were done with that, Stan would talk about Masterson on a personal level.

He would bring up every minute detail about the candidate, from his posture to his grooming to his wardrobe. He went so far as to ask whether she thought he looked sexy enough and how he could seduce more women voters into backing him.

Often, he would use Elizabeth to represent all female voters and test her responses to things Masterson might say in his speeches or do when he was meeting alone with important women, such as potential donors and those in positions of influence.

In her previous career, Elizabeth had often worked with male executives on presenting themselves favorably, and when they had been good-looking, she had found ways to use that to ingratiate them with women they needed to win to their side. She surprised Stan with her ideas, and some of them were quickly implemented.

The meetings with Stan went from once to twice a week, and at the second one, Masterson joined them. He listened to them telling him what to do and followed their orders. The rare times when he questioned anything was if he thought something they suggested might distort the issues he was running on. That impressed Elizabeth. A couple of times, she felt like saying "Good for you!" when he shot down some of Stan's cruder suggestions.

At first, Elizabeth's work was weekdays and normal office hours. She and a retired woman executive were often the only volunteers there during the day, because most of the volunteers had jobs and could only work limited and irregular hours. As she became a key member of the steering committee, she was asked to help at some of Masterson's public appearances, which were usually in the evening.

After each event, there was a postmortem that included Masterson, Stan, and others in the campaign who had been at the event. If the event wasn't far from headquarters, the meeting was there. Otherwise, it was in a nearby restaurant that had a private room. If the event was in a hotel meeting room, Stan often got a room in the hotel for the night and the group convened there. During the course of the meeting, workers gradually left. By the end, only the steering committee was there.

From her second event on, Stan alerted her the day of the appearance that he wanted her at the postmortem and to expect to be there until midnight. Usually, Paula was also at the late meeting, but sometimes it was only Elizabeth and a group of men.

The one thing Elizabeth didn't like about these meetings was the way Stan and the others spoke to Masterson. It was almost disrespectful - as if he were a dunce who didn't understand anything and needed to be reminded of things that were obvious. He didn't seem to mind.

At the fourth event Elizabeth attended, Stan, Masterson, and she were in an intense discussion when Stan looked at his watch and said he had to leave for a late meeting with a potential donor. Elizabeth started to get up, but Stan put his hands on her shoulders.

"We're on a roll. We were just getting to some important adjustments for Andy's next speech. You and Andy stay until you work it out and then give me a report in the morning. Is that all right? Do you need to call your husband?"

"No," Elizabeth said. "I'm sure we can wind this up in a half-hour, and he's asleep by now anyway."

"Great!" Stan said. "Thanks for staying."

"No problem."

Stan didn't hear her because he was already out the door. As it shut behind him, she turned to Masterson. He looked at her eagerly, like a puppy waiting for her to throw a ball for him to fetch.

She started to tell him something, but she stopped. With Stan and Paula there, she went along with their approach. But alone with Masterson, the words she was about to say stuck in her throat.

Masterson was smart. He understood everything his advisers were telling him. There was no reason to talk down to him. She decided to be herself. If that didn't work, she could always go back to being condescending.

The candidate shocked her. Not only did he respond to her change in tone, he began to participate in the brainstorming and came up with a couple of good ideas. She was overjoyed. They worked together so smoothly that they were finished in fifteen minutes.

From then on, Elizabeth ignored how others spoke to Masterson. When it came to her turn, she addressed him the way she felt about him. To her, he was a smart, idealistic, pragmatic, proven achiever. His responses to her continued to prove to her that she was on the right track, although Stan and Paula never changed their tones. She noticed they often exchanged glances when she spoke to the candidate. Maybe they disapproved of the way she spoke, but neither ever mentioned it to her.

Almost every meeting with her, Stan, and Masterson at headquarters now finished with her and Masterson speaking alone, and so did the meetings at restaurants and in hotel rooms. She noticed this, but nothing else changed in her daily work with the volunteers, which was where she spent most of her time.

Actually, there was one other change. None of the men flirted with her anymore, not even new volunteers and professionals. And sometimes, she saw a few of the workers talking to each other and looking at her. A couple of times when she had to break up a conversation to ask for some help, she heard the phrase "A-One."

She had no idea what that meant, she told her husband. "It's their nickname for me. A lot of them call each other nicknames. Sometimes it's based on something they did, their ethnic background, or the way they look. A lot of times, it's a sexual proclivity everybody knows about but me. When I ask Paula to explain, she always tells me I don't want to know.

"They won't call me by my nickname, so I think it's one of those resentful names for the boss. A-One. Maybe I give out the vibe that I think I'm better than everybody, that I'm A-One, and think of them as A-Five or B-Four. What do you think?"

"I don't know," Ronald answered. "I've never heard that one before. Don't let it bother you."

He didn't tell her it bothered him. How could anyone resent Elizabeth?

"Don't worry. The management team - Stan, Paula, Andy, and I - we're together. We are totally in sync, and all those who report to us are pulling their weight, whether they're paid or volunteers. If some of them resent me, I don't care."

"I think you're taking the right approach," Ronald said.

****************

A few days later, something happened that changed Elizabeth's role in the campaign completely, although she didn't realize it at the time.

She was in a great mood because of what had happened the night before. She felt her approach with Masterson had proven itself because he had put on an amazing performance at a large rally. The audience had adored him.

She didn't tell anyone, but she felt a little proud of herself for inspiring the candidate to greater efforts. He was smart enough to realize that her advice was what he needed at this point, and he put himself into her hands.

Stan and Paula seemed to step back and let her take the lead. In fact, in two different private meetings, Stan told her how valuable she was and how important her relationship with Masterson was to the success of the campaign.

"I feel like you and I are kindred souls," he said. "We know he needs us, and we are there to give him sustenance. We've got to give it everything we've got to keep him on the road to victory."

"He deserves it," she said. "He's a wonderful man, but I get you. He can't achieve his ambitious goals by himself. He needs a strong support group. It's an honor for me to be a small part of it."

"Your part isn't small," Stan said. "You and he have great synergy. You're someone he trusts. He knows he can count on you to nurture him.

"Andy's a formidable man, but you've already seen that he can be vulnerable and insecure. We've got to keep him strong. I'm totally committed to making whatever sacrifices are necessary for him to succeed. Everything I say or do during this campaign has only one purpose. I think you feel the same way."

"You have no idea how much it means that you have such confidence in me," Elizabeth said. "I promise you I won't let you down."

She was thinking about the meeting after the event last night. There had been a few toasts, and the alcohol had loosened her tongue. She proclaimed how proud of Masterson she was. Her enthusiasm and excitement were at such a peak that she monopolized the conversation. Paula and Stan silently listened to her praising the candidate. And then Masterson took her hand and kissed it and held it up and told her that she was a star and he would be nothing without her. She could have melted.

The recollection was making her feel warm and happy when she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

A stunning brunette walked in.

"Mrs. Grace, my name is Michelle Granger. I was told to report to you."

***************

Elizabeth and Michelle hit it off immediately. Elizabeth felt it was because she saw a lot of herself in her new volunteer.

Before Paula told her Michelle was a wealthy divorcee, Elizabeth already knew from her stylish clothes, which were from the same stores where Elizabeth shopped. Like Elizabeth, it was obvious that she took pride in her appearance and spent time at the gym.

Elizabeth figured Michelle was ten years younger but could easily be mistaken for a woman in her late twenties. They both had curves in all the right places.

The faces were different. Where Elizabeth was cute and pretty, Michelle had a classic beauty that made men bump into walls. She was quickly the talk of the campaign workers.

The second day she came to work, she asked for a private meeting and asked Elizabeth what she should do about all the men and women hitting on her.

"If you feel threatened, I can say something," Elizabeth offered.

"You don't need to do that. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. I just need to know if there are some feathers I shouldn't ruffle or lines I can't cross."

"No. We're all in this together, and you're welcome to say anything or slap anyone you want, as long you don't do it when someone from the outside might see it. Before you do anything, make sure you get to know all the press covering us. Some of them act just like campaign workers, but if they get a sniff of anything salacious, you'll be famous."

"Thanks. I'll do that."

That was the last Elizabeth heard of the problem. She noticed that, like herself, Michelle worked well with the others but didn't seem to participate in the extracurricular activities. She observed her carefully for the first couple of weeks and never saw the day-after expression on her face.

Michelle's volunteer time was limited. She told Elizabeth she had two young children and could only be there weekdays while they were in school. While at work, she was efficient and productive.

The week after she started, she asked Elizabeth if she could have lunch with her. During lunch, she began by asking questions about the campaign and then offered a couple of ideas. Elizabeth was taken aback by both the suggestions. They were great, and she told Michelle she would pass them on.