Free Domestic Affairs by Bridget Siegel Page B

once in a while he got the urge to get on top of his finances. Okay, well, that was really only when he started dating someone new or when he had been dating them long enough for them to get on him about it. It was too much to be organized for the governor and the campaign and then care about his own life on top of that. In fact some days he felt like a part of him was purposely rebelling by leaving his house a mess. It was the only part of his life that could be like that.
    Even a week earlier, Jacob would have never even thought about missing a trip with the governor—not even for his grandmother’s eightieth birthday party, which he’d skipped for work the year before. His grandma Lee didn’t mind, since Jacob was helping the governor, or “my Landon,” as she referred to him.
    But his anxiety about how the governor would accept his minutely concocted justifications for staying in Georgia had been unnecessary. The governor hadn’t even waited for the full explanation, complete with manufactured to-do lists. When Jacob had said Olivia would staff the day the governor answered with a simple, rarely heard, “Okay.”

    â€œOkay,” Olivia said to herself, straightening her posture to walk into the Brinmore. Jo was, as always, greeting and maneuvering people at the door. She smiled at Olivia; threw her a kiss; mouthed, “Hi, sweetie”; and motioned her toward the corner table in the lobby.
    â€œCrap,” Olivia muttered when she saw Governor Taylor sitting comfortably, already on the last sips of his orange juice and, from the looks of it, into at least his sixth newspaper.
    Why do all the candidates I work for have to be morning people?
    â€œGood morning, Governor,” she said as she reached the table.
    â€œHello there, Miss Olivia.” He stood as he moved some papers off the chair so she could sit.
    â€œEarly start to the day?”
    â€œI try to get up and run at six,” he said with that drawl. “Leaves me enough time to get to the papers before the meetings start. Though admittedly,” he added contemplatively, “it doesn’t always work.”
    Olivia resisted the urge to make a joke about running and tell him that she hadn’t run since high school soccer, as he suddenly appeared more formal and intimidating without Jacob by his side. She took a breath and composed herself.
    â€œSo what do we have on tap today?” he asked, as if he hadn’t had a schedule faxed, emailed and handed to him at least four times already that morning. “Do you want a coffee?”
    â€œI’m fine, thank you.” Olivia hated eating or drinking at meetings, although she would have benefitted from the savings in food costs. Shenever knew what was too much or too little, and the men always deferred to her to order first. Usually she just got a Diet Coke, in meetings when it would be too awkward not to have anything.
    â€œWe’ve got a full schedule,” she said, pulling out the folder and trying to sound her most businesslike. “I think some really good potential supporters.”
    â€œYou feel good about it?”
    â€œSure, of course.” She was unaccustomed to the question. Most candidates didn’t have time for or interest in how she felt about a schedule, or anything else for that matter. At the same time Olivia realized how proud she was of the day she had put together.
    â€œGreat, great,” he said, looking at her as he flipped through the pages. “Thanks again for staffing this day. I’m so glad you’re coming aboard.” Then he paused and looked down at his BlackBerry. “I’ve just gotta make one call before eight–thirty. Billy—he’s my chief of staff. You’ve met him?”
    â€œNo, not yet. Spoke to him on the phone though.”
    â€œHe’s the greatest. Really good.” The governor began to dial.
    Olivia handed him the briefing and began to look around