On The Trail

Prologue

Surrounded by a sea of three piece suits, extravagant dresses, elegant ties and sparkling champagne, it all seemed to be a bit much. The air was stuffy, but Adrienne Jackson knew that was something she was going to have to get used to. After all, this was the path she had chosen.

The pretentious chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting beams of light throughout the room and seeming to scream out to her that she was in a new world, one based solely on looks and appearances.

Are you ready, darling? Quinton’s voice drew her back into the moment.

She gulped and set down her glass of champagne before her sweaty palms caused it to drop and break.

Wide-eyed, she stared back at him. For months, they had discussed the possibilities and planned out this moment. Yet, right now, she felt unable to form words.

Suddenly, it was real. She was going to do this. Her hands shook, as she tried to maintain the pretense of calm.

They’re all waiting, he urged.

She quietly cleared her throat and nodded her head. Well, then, I won’t keep them waiting.

You’ll be fabulous, he said, squeezing her hand for reassurance.

Thanks, sweetheart, she whispered.

You also look fabulous, he added, looking her up and down one last time. That dress truly does the most amazing things for your already amazing figure.

She smiled at the compliment, allowing herself a moment of vanity to diminish as much of the nerves as possible. For a fleeting moment, her breathing returned to normal, and her heart rate settled into a normal pace.

As he made his way to the stage, though, she began the doubting again, and her heart hammered in her chest. Was this something she wanted to do? They both knew what was at stake and the scrutiny they would, no doubt, be put through in the coming months.

She closed her eyes, bidding away the uncertainty. Her late grandmother’s words replayed in her mind. Everyone has skeletons in their closet. We just have to make sure they don’t come into the public eye. Spoken clearly from someone whose life was always in the public eye. As a longtime pastor’s wife, her grandmother had lived by those words and made sure that all of her children did the same.

Now, it was time to see if Adrienne could live up to the test as well.

As Quinton took the stage, she froze. She watched his eyes linger in one corner of the room and attempted to follow his gaze, knowing all too well what likely stood where he was entranced.

Quinton clinked his fork gently against his champagne glass, drawing attention to the stage.

Good evening, he said. I want to extend my gratitude to each of you for your attendance this evening. Tonight is a very exciting time for me—and for each of us. He spoke with such ease, and again Adrienne wished he were the one running. Yet, they had agreed she would be the best one for this task.

Not here. Not now. She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t so easily surrender all that they had worked so hard to keep hidden—especially not right now.

As if he had realized his surroundings suddenly, he snapped out of it and gave the entire audience his winning smile. Clearing his throat, he seamlessly moved into the task at hand.

It is with great pleasure I introduce someone very special to you. She is as graceful and beautiful as she is talented and intelligent. A Rhodes scholar, a skilled and dedicated lawyer, an upstanding and involved member of the community, and my gorgeous wife—I introduce to you, Mrs. Adrienne Jackson.

Attention turned to the side of the stage where she was waiting. She smiled brightly, suddenly rejuvenated. The reasons why she was here came pouring back into her mind all at once. This would be the easiest speech she ever gave—simply because it was true. She would be speaking her heart tonight.

She climbed the steps to the stage and leaned in to kiss Quinton on the cheek.

Thank you for that lovely introduction, Quinton, she said, offering him a smile. And, thank you all for coming out tonight, she continued, turning her attention to the audience. As Quinton said, tonight is an exciting time. I am honored to be here before you as a friend, neighbor, and fellow concerned citizen. Our communities, our state, and our nation are facing trying times and as I have had conversations with many of you, I know you are just as worried about the future as I am.

She paused to let her words gain importance, and felt her confidence solidify as she saw the nodding of heads throughout the room.

People are out of work, our families are suffering, education is dwindling, and those in charge don’t seem to be paying much attention. It seems like the voice of the people is watered down by the bureaucratic red tape and political games of this hyper-partisan era in which we live. Here in our own state, we have seen corruption in government. We have seen too many people go hungry. We have seen an education system that is failing our youth. We have seen government officials turn a blind eye to most of it. Tonight, I stand before you asking you to raise the bar—to expect more from those entrusted as Representatives.

Feeling empowered, she smiled brightly and stood taller. With the goal of actively serving you and fully representing your needs, I humbly announce that I am running for U.S. Congress. I would appreciate your support as we work together to set a higher standard for government. She let the applause in the room die down before adding, Thank you all again for coming. I look forward to working with you in the coming months.

Stepping to the edge of the stage, she met Quinton’s stare. He extended his hand and helped her down the stage before pulling her into a hug. You were wonderful, he whispered.

Thank you, she responded, squeezing him a little harder.

Knowing she would always have his support, made everything seem possible.

Chapter One

The harsh beeping of the alarm rang throughout the room, but Chris laughed. As if he would need an alarm for today, the thrill of the day's events beat the alarm by an hour. Five a.m. had come early, but he was ready for the day.

Stretching his neck, he climbed out of bed, and the electrifying energy of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Although he had tried, he couldn’t quite calm his nerves or slow the rapid fire thoughts that had jumped through his mind all night. Today, he would begin his journey to see if he had what it took in this field. He would test all the skills he had honed over the years on the campaign trail, and he would finally have the chance to see if he was wise enough, shrewd enough, and skilled enough to lead a campaign team to victory.

Buddy, his yellow lab, leaned up and licked him in the face drawing him out of his contemplative state.

All right, let’s go for a run, Chris said, patting the dog on the head.

It would do him well to clear his head anyway, he decided.

His early morning routine passed in a blur. Run, shower, pick out the perfect suit and drive across town—the whole time with his confidence battling his uncertainties.

Had he been right to walk away from the life he had back home for this? And, would he have what it takes to be successful?

Looking in the mirror as he adjusted his red tie, he decided he looked pretty damn good. If nothing else, he was a sharp dresser, with the build of a chiseled football player, and perfect hair. He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Still, if he was going to take pride in anything, it would be his charming smile and the thick hair that had so often been the subject of talk by admiring ladies. Although it had started to prematurely gray in certain areas, he chose to wear it proudly anyway, as a badge of the wisdom he had collected throughout the years.

As he drove up to his new office, he straightened his suit and took one last look in the mirror. While his hands shook slightly, he put on a façade of false bravado.

He glanced at the dilapidated building in front of him. At least I look better than this place, he said to himself with a laugh.

It was the quintessential campaign office—there was no doubt about that.

A large black SUV filled the spot next to his car as Chris stepped from his vehicle, into the parking lot.

The door opened and Adrienne Jackson emerged from the driver’s side.

Chris had spoken to her on the phone and had done his fair share of research online, but he was struck by just how stunning she was in person.

He cleared his throat and brushed the thought away. This was his new boss, and his only concern needed to be how to get her elected.

Good morning, Mrs. Jackson, he said extending his right hand, surprised by the fact that she nearly looked him in the eye. He stood over six-foot tall, and seeing a woman almost as tall was something he was not accustomed to seeing in a woman. Noting her sizable heels and long legs, he put two and two together quickly.

Good morning to you, Chris. Call me Adrienne. Now, let’s go inside and see about getting you settled and getting a game plan formulated, she replied, her tone marking the cool professional air of a seasoned politician.

As he took in her poised and friendly, yet brisk, demeanor, he noted that she looked the part as well. Dressed to the nines with a fitted suit that looked about as expensive as his car, her appearance was every bit that of one who drew opponents in on her charm and then ate them for breakfast—all while wearing a winning grin and maintaining a pleasant approach.

His head was swimming in a million different directions, as he tried to nail down a plan for how they would market her without having the media rip her apart as just another pretty face. He shook his head, trying to clear the thought that Adrienne was a knockout and could have easily had a career as a model.

Are you coming? she asked, after unlocking and opening the door.

Of course, he said, appreciating her down to business attitude. He followed her, deciding that she was anything but just another pretty face.

It isn’t much, she said, flipping on the lights. But, it’s about all we can afford at the time being. I’m hoping you can change that, though.

Chris smiled, I’m hoping so as well.

As they settled into a large office room that was only adorned with a folding table and two folding chairs, Chris’s tense shoulders relaxed, and he felt his anxiety ease.

He wasn’t out of his league here. This place had nothing. Adrienne had nothing but her family’s name and some money. It was his job to start from scratch and turn this into a legitimate campaign for U.S. Congress.

Did you find a place and get settled in? Adrienne asked.

Yes, ma’am, I did. Thank you.

Adrienne raised her eyebrows and grinned, as though amused by his use of the word ma’am, but he knew that was something she would have to get used to if she were going to be elected to serve as a Representative.

This is quite the transition from D.C. How is Colorado treating you so far? she asked.

Very well. I like it here, and I’m excited about this opportunity.

As am I, she smiled.

Chris grabbed his notebook and decided there was no time like the present to get down to the meat of the issues.

So, can you tell me a little about what’s important to you in this race? Chris asked, setting the tone for their strategizing meeting.

First and foremost, my focus is on the economy, Adrienne said. Her smooth voice and outward charm were enough to make Chris feel confident they had a legitimate shot. She sounded every bit like a seasoned candidate, although she was as green as he was. But, we can’t forget there are many pressing social issues and issues of great importance to the people in my district.

One by one, she rattled off each issue, making a strong case for her point of view on each one. When she was finished, she looked directly into Chris’s eyes. Was that entirely different from what you expected?

Honestly, it is somewhat, he admitted. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard a candidate so directly give such a moderate approach to political issues.

I don’t like to call it moderate, Adrienne replied. I like to call it balanced and thoughtful.

That may not play well with our base, but you already know that, I’m assuming.

Adrienne nodded and took a deep breath, If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. I don’t want to be portrayed as anything other than what I am. I’m not hard left, and I’m not hard right. But, I’m running on the Republican ticket in hopes that they’ll want to elect someone who looks at the issues—not the party lines.

Chris let that soak in. On one hand, he admired her approach and her desire to stick to her views—regardless of public opinion. On the other, it was going to be an uphill battle if she didn’t play into the base voters.

She seemed aware of the risks though, so he didn’t press the subject for the time being.

Let’s just focus on the task ahead right now, he said. We’re going up against a pretty big name in the primary, correct?

That’s correct, Adrienne answered. The fire in her eyes, without the least sign of fear, reminded Chris why he did this type of work. There were some who were legitimately in this for the right reasons—to help people, to make a change, and to better the future for this generation and others.

The same spark of hope that had been in his eyes when he first started down his political career he saw mirrored in Adrienne’s eyes—and he knew he was in the right place.

He’s a former State Representative and a well known lawyer in the area, right? Chris asked.

That’s correct. Big name ID and big money, Adrienne answered. But, we can do this. The people here need something to believe in. They need someone to listen to their needs. They need someone who will truly evaluate the situation and act according to what is best for our state—and our nation.

Chris just smiled in response.

What? Did I say something wrong? Adrienne asked, straightening in her chair.

No, not at all, Chris answered. I was just thinking that if you talk like this all the time, our communications director will have an easy job.

They both shared a laugh, and she straightened in her chair, obviously pleased with his compliment. He took in the sight, realizing she might be just as nervous as he was, but she was good at hiding it.

I’m just passionate about why I’m doing this, she said. I didn’t make this decision lightly.

Neither did I, he answered. So, we’ll both go in and give it our all and see where we end up.

Her smile broadened as she nodded her head in agreement. I guess we will.

After a moment, Chris began writing in his notebook. He was going to make this a success, and he might just know how.

He made a few notes and looked up. How would you feel about conducting a listening tour beginning early next month?

She moved her head to the side, conveying an interest. Chris took the cue and continued. Basically, we would travel around the district, holding meetings in as many towns as possible. At these meetings, you don’t need to say much—maybe a five to ten minute speech at the very beginning to introduce yourself and explain what you’re doing. After that, you simply listen. Allow people to bring their concerns to you, their issues, their needs, and their wishes.

I like it, Adrienne said. Do you think Ocksden will do something similar?

Chris smiled and shook his head. If nothing else, she was thinking on the right track—looking into what her opponent in the primary had.

From what I’ve read on the guy, he will probably lay low for a little while and just do some fundraising. But, when he moves into the public phase of his campaign, he’ll come out hard. He’s already popular and well respected, so we need to get out and hit the trail ahead of him.

We don’t have too much time, Adrienne said. We’re six months out.

That’s a lifetime politically. We’ve got time. Do you want to do the listening tour? If so, I’ll start setting it up as soon as we get through staff interviews and get some help on the ground.

Let’s do it, she said. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.

Don’t make that promise, Chris replied.

Why not?

I may just have to take you up on that, he said. If you’ll do whatever it takes, expect many sleepless nights before the primary—and even more when we make it to the general. Expect to be on the road so much that you no longer remember what your own bed feels like, and expect to be as emotionally exhausted as you are mentally and physically.

She nodded her head, I’ve done this on a much smaller level, but I’m prepared.

Good, he answered, hoping she was right.

They finished with small talk, and Chris continued taking notes. As she stood to leave, he stood with her and shook her hand.

I’m looking forward to working for you, he said.

I’m looking forward to winning, Adrienne added.

Agreed. Now, I’ve got to get the office set up, he said glancing around. Dust covered walls, cobwebs, and a hole in the wall would not do for too long.

I wish we had the money to hire someone to do that, she said.

Chris pointed both thumbs at his chest. You already hired someone, remember?

They shared a laugh, and Adrienne walked out, leaving Chris to clean up the mess.

How metaphoric, he thought. But, then again, any messes that came between now and November would no doubt be his to clean up. He knew that when he had accepted this job.

* * *

The place was in no means a beautiful set up; however, it was much better. First task completed.

That’s why they pay me the big bucks, he thought with a laugh. Truthfully, it was why they paid him the mediocre bucks. It was something he hoped to change shortly—once donors started coming in—but he had taken a fairly large pay cut from his job on the Hill.

Tonight, though, he had a meeting with Adrienne and a few wealthy community members. That would be a start for now. As he took one last glance through the office, he decided it was time to go home and get cleaned up for dinner. He was turning out the light in his makeshift office when the distant bang of the front door opening caught his attention.

Hello? a loud voice called.

Yes, ma’am, Chris replied, sticking his head out into the lobby. How can I help you?

Put me to work, she said exuberantly. I’m here to volunteer.

Chris laughed. There’s not much to do at the moment, he said, extending his right hand. I’m Chris Duncan, by the way.

I know who you are. I’m Sandra—Adrienne’s neighbor. And, I’m going to be here every step of the way. We’ve got to fight against the establishment—against those yoo-hoos in Washington. Do you know what they’re doing to our country?

Her face was getting redder by the second, and her voice rose with each word. With her chest puffed up like an angry chicken, she displayed her energetic nature. Sandra was obviously excited about the cause but to Chris, she seemed a little on the fringe. Nonetheless, he would be happy to have the company, so for now, he would oblige her.

Yes, ma’am, he said. I think Adrienne is just the type of person we need in Washington.

Well, she is a little far to the left for my liking, but she’s a smart girl—and she’s not Washington. There’s nothing I hate quite as much as Washington. She paused, but only briefly. Anyway, we’ll get into all of that a little later. For now, tell me about yourself. If we’re going to be working together, I need to know who you are and where you’re from. Who are you? What’s behind that smile that could charm the pants off a snake and those mysteriously bright eyes?

Chris laughed at the barrage of questions and the strange vernacular this woman used. She was over the top. From her untamed gray hair that seemed to have a life of its own, to the t-shirt printed with a Tea Party slogan in big letters, she was a force to be reckoned with; that much was clear.

I’m originally from Georgia, he said, knowing she wouldn’t like to hear where he called home these days.

Oh, and what did you do in Georgia before you headed out this way?

Well, I grew up in Georgia, and I went to college there. I got my start in campaigns in Georgia about six years ago, he said.

So, which campaigns?

He couldn’t help but feel like he was being interrogated. A State Senate campaign and then a Congressional campaign. But, I haven’t lived in Georgia for a while, he added. It was best to get it out in the open early with people like this.

Where have you lived since Georgia?

I’ve been in D.C. for the last four years, he said.

She stepped back, visibly upset. Oh, she said. So, what did you do up there?

I’ve worked on the Hill. First as an intern, then a Legislative Correspondent, a Legislative Assistant, and a Legislative Director, he answered confidently. He had no reason to be ashamed of his resume.

So, you’re part of the establishment? she asked, not backing down.

No, ma’am, I don’t consider myself to be, he said politely.

Well, I guess we’ll just have to see about that, she said. So where do you stand on the issues? Are you moderate like Adrienne? Or, are you on the right side of these fights?

I appreciate Adrienne’s stances on many issues, but I do have my own opinions. However, for the time being, I am an employee of hers—so I reflect her stances.

That sounds like Washington-speak to me, she said. How about the Constitution?

He laughed. I’m in favor of upholding and preserving our Constitutional rights.

Good. Abortion?

He hesitated for a moment and then decided it wasn’t really any of her business. Why don’t we just focus on Adrienne’s viewpoints?

Her eyes narrowed slightly, her distrust evident. That sounds a lot like someone who is ashamed to be on the wrong side of the abortion argument to me, but I’ll let it slide for right now. On the spectrum, how far are you to the right?

I’m centered, but I lean heavily right.

She took another step back. How could you be pro-choice and call yourself a Republican?

He laughed again. I never said I was pro-choice. Did you have any other questions for me?

I have many, she said, before glancing at her watch. But, right now, I’ve got to get to the grocery store and make dinner.

She turned to leave, but quickly turned back. We’ll discuss this all a little more in depth later, she said. But, we’ll find a way to work together—even if you are a bit too Washington for my tastes.

He wished her a good evening and waited until she was out the door before he started laughing. This place was going to be an experience. There was no doubt about that.

He was the D.C. outsider, and he was leading the fight for a moderate candidate to take on a well established conservative with a lot of money. It would be an uphill battle, but he was ready for the challenge.

Chapter Two

Kailey shut her laptop with a defeated sigh. This job search was hopeless. Her neck ached from staring at the computer screen, and the tension in her shoulder muscles was more intense than any twenty-two year old should be experiencing. She had been out of college for a month now, and still, she could not find a single place willing to even hire her.

It was a double-edged sword. You had to have experience to get a job, but if no one would hire you, how were you supposed to get experience? She had submitted more resumes and cover letters than she knew what to do with, but there were no phone calls, no reply emails. Just yesterday, her mother had called to ask about her situation for the millionth time.

So, have you heard back from anyone yet?

Mom, I promised I would call the minute I did, Kailey said. She had lost patience with the questions. Each one seemed to point out the fact that she was failing.

Don’t get snippy, sweetheart. I’m just worried about you. Actually, your father and I are both worried, her mother continued.

Please, don’t worry. I will find something. I just have to keep looking.

Your father said he keeps wondering if you should have gotten a degree in something else. Maybe that’s part of the problem.

Mom! Kailey exclaimed. Those are things you should probably keep between the two of you. Let’s not trash the degree that took four years of hard work and a ton of money. Besides, it’s not like I studied underwater basket weaving. I majored in Journalism and minored in Business.

Settle down, her mom chided. I was just saying.

I don’t want to fight with you, Kailey tamed her tone, even though doing so made her voice shake. I just would appreciate it if we could steer clear from those types of discussions.

And, what types of discussions would those be?

The ones where you point out my failures, Kailey replied, feeling her frustration rise and collide with her own feelings that she had somehow failed.

I was doing nothing of the sort, the absolute astonishment in her mom’s voice made Kailey laugh.

Okay, well I’ll keep you posted Mom.

As she hung up the phone, she couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. And now, as she replayed the conversation in her mind, she shook her head. Throwing her hands up in the air for no one’s amusement but her own, she let out an exaggerated sigh.

They thought it should be so easy, but they hadn’t gone job hunting in this economy.

Although she had been confident she would find a job right after graduation, the confidence wavered slightly each day. But, she wouldn’t give into that tonight. She knew just what she needed. She poured a glass of red wine and scrolled through her iTunes until she found exactly what she was looking for. Downing her glass as the opening lines of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun came on, she grabbed the bottle and slid the glass down the table, opting to drink from the bottle instead. As her favorite part came up, she cranked the volume and used the bottle as a microphone.

The phone rings in the middle of the night, she belted. My father yells ‘what you gonna do with your life?’ Oh Daddy dear, you know you’re still number one, but girls they wanna have fun.

Her neighbor pounded on the wall, making her laugh even harder. For once, she let her concerns for keeping her cranky neighbor happy go completely, and gave into the moment with reckless abandonment. She needed this. Breaking into dance, she felt the tension leave her body. This song had quickly become her go to feel better song over the last few days.

Hopefully, soon she would have something solid to go on, or at least have something fun in her life. Her phone rang, breaking her out of her rock star performance. Recognizing her best friend’s ringtone, she cranked up the music even louder so they could share in the moment.

Hey, Celeste, Kailey answered.

What are you doing tonight? Celeste asked, a smile ringing through her voice.

I’m pretty busy, Kailey joked. Cyndi Lauper, a bottle of wine, and I are having quite the meeting.

Are you wearing actual clothes?

You know me too well, Kailey said, with a laugh. But, I still hold true to the opinion that sweatpants are actual clothes.

Get dressed. I’ll be at your house to pick you up in ten minutes, Celeste replied.

Where are we going? Kailey asked, recalling her latest bank statement in her head.

Celeste must have sensed her hesitancy.

The details don’t matter. We need to get you out of the house, and tonight is my treat. Like I said, just get dressed.

Kailey wanted more details, but the line went dead. She hated being a charity case, but Celeste was right. She needed out of this house badly, and besides, there was much fun to be had in Denver on any given night.

* * *

As classic rock blared through his speakers, Chris sped through town. He knew he was driving too fast; yet, he couldn’t even think about slowing down.

Tonight, he had gotten his first taste of true success. He glanced down at the seat next to him and once again took in the sight of the five $5,000 checks in his passenger seat. Soon, he would place them in an envelope and tuck them in the safe at his apartment. Tomorrow, he would deposit them, but for this moment, he relished the sight of them.

Adrienne had been flawless at dinner tonight, as had her husband Quinton. They were both charming people. There was no doubt about that. But, most importantly, neither one backed away from the ask at the end of the night. That was one of the most important traits in a candidate—the willingness to ask for money.

Campaigns were far from free. And, with this money, Chris now had a guaranteed salary—and enough to begin searching for another employee. They would be a close-knit team, sharing responsibilities—at least until they had brought in enough money to hire additional help.

The rest would come, but right now, he needed to share this victory with someone.

He grabbed his phone and dialed quickly before he could talk himself out of making the call.

Hey, Jenny’s voice sounded less than enthusiastic.

Chris decided not to let it get him down. Hey, Jen. How are you?

I’m fine, Chris. Why are you calling so late?

Her words felt like a blow to the gut. Uh. . .never mind. Just forget it, Chris said, defeated. I was just calling to chat.

Don’t you realize it’s late here? she asked, her words clipped with more than a hint of bitterness seeping through the line.

Yeah, sorry about that. I just wanted to share the details of my day with you.

I’m not your girlfriend anymore. There’s no need to give me the play-by-play, she shot back.

Wow, Jen. When I left you said we would keep in touch. This was your choice to take some time—not mine.

Yeah, well it was your choice to move across the country.

You said we would keep in touch, Chris reminded her. Besides, I didn’t end this thing. You did. I took a job. You said you wouldn’t do the long distance thing. I thought we’d still be able to communicate like civilized people.

You’ve only been gone for four days. I think it’s a little too soon to start with all that, she said, before hanging up the phone.

The beeping of the line was an all too clear reminder of all