Not the plan, p.13
Not the Plan, page 13
“Can your assistant help you? It is Sunday, but maybe?” Karim asked.
“Nah. I’m sure she’d be willing to, but she’s out of town until Tuesday. Plus, this is my baby.”
“What about your legislative director?” he asked.
She checked her watch and sighed. “Good idea, but it would take more time getting her up to speed enough to help restructure than it will if I just do it myself.”
“What about this legislative director?” he asked, pointing at himself.
She smiled and shook her head.
“I know you said you paid attention to what we did with single-payer, but did you follow the minutiae of it?” Please say no, please say no.
“I can’t say that I did,” he said.
“I’ll handle it,” she said.
He gave her a sad shrug. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more helpful.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I’ll get it together.” She rested her head on his shoulder.
“Well,” he said. “You have to eat, right?”
“Crap…”
“No, wait. I’ll go get some dinner. And you mentioned handouts and Daniel’s priorities. Do you have those on a USB key? Maybe I can go print some more copies. That way you can focus on rebuilding your notes. Would that help you get ready faster?”
She paused. Could she trust him with the handouts? Relying on others was always a struggle for her. The skitter of her heartbeat and shakiness in her hands made it difficult to just say yes. And then there was the content. Was there anything in there she couldn’t let a Capulet see? She’d had her assistant make the handouts as neutral as possible. She’d just have to trust her work.
“You’d run around and do all that for me?” she asked.
“It would be my pleasure, beautiful.” He kissed her on the cheek. “But first we’ll wait for the maintenance guy to head out.”
“Why?”
“Feeling rather protective of you today. Not leaving you alone with a strange man in your apartment. Even if he seems nice.”
Isadora hid her smile, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Aren’t you sweet?”
He smiled, kissed her on the cheek again, and then hopped off the bed, headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my stuff out of the car.”
“Why?”
“Because I would prefer it if he thinks I live here.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only reason?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He winked at her and strode into the living room, chatting with the man a moment before going back downstairs.
* * *
—
The maintenance man finished and wished them a good evening. She tried to fight down her stress as she got started on her notes and Karim left to do the running around.
An hour and a half later, he was back.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said, kissing her on the cheek when she opened the door. She was so disheartened, she didn’t even get excited about his kiss.
“Hey.”
“I’m sure you’re going to get everything ready in time.”
“I’m glad one of us is sure.” She went back to the couch, tucked her legs underneath her, and picked up her legal pad again. He rustled bags, opened and closed cabinet doors in the kitchen. Despite her need to focus, she did notice that the presence of someone else, the sounds in the background, reduced her tension.
“Dinner’s ready, beautiful,” he said. “Come eat with me.”
Smiling, she put everything down and turned to the table. She’d expected some plastic take-out boxes and utensils, but he’d set the table with glasses and real plates. A small but beautiful bouquet of white roses was on hers.
“Karim!” She gasped.
“Surprise.” The shy boy was back. “I thought a nice break was in order.”
“Oh.” She sat down in front of the flowers. “Thank you.” She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek and stroke his stubble. “I’m going to miss that when it’s gone.”
“Is that so?” he asked, grinning.
“It is.”
He went into the kitchen. “I bought two salads; I don’t know what you prefer. And I also bought a bottle of Riesling. Would you like some?”
“Hmm. I would, but I’m afraid it will make me too relaxed to work. Maybe we’ll save it for the next time you come over?”
“I like that idea.”
* * *
—
They ate, and talked about the process of bringing single-payer to California. Isadora felt much better. She wanted to linger at the table with him, but there was still so much to do. When they finished, he cleaned up, took his things back down to his car and returned to say good night.
“Thank you so much for today. For this whole weekend, really,” she said.
“Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you. I was absolutely blown away when I saw you in that blue dress. I’d been sad thinking that you weren’t going to be there, then there you were, a vision in front of me. I had to blink a couple of times to be sure.”
She giggled. “I felt the same way. When I saw Drew, my heart sank. I figured, ‘Okay, if he’s here, Karim won’t be,’ so I thought I was going to have a crap evening. I’m glad I was wrong.”
He bent to kiss her cheek, nuzzle her neck. “Will you do me a favor?”
She nodded.
“Will you call me when you’ve finished? I’d like to hear your voice one more time before going to sleep.”
Her heart fluttered. “Sure, but I don’t have your number.”
“Yes, you do.” He grinned. “It’s on the card with the flowers.” She turned back to the bouquet lying on the table.
“Aren’t you smooth?” Before he spoke, she went up on tiptoe to kiss him. It was a long kiss, a deep kiss. Like their kisses from the previous night. He pulled her close, she slid her hands into his hair. They kissed for a long time, savoring each other. Moaning, he released her lips, resting his forehead against hers.
“We’d better stop.” He sighed, his eyes closed.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Or you won’t be able to finish your work. I won’t let you,” he whispered.
“Mmm…okay, Karim.”
“Talk to you later, beautiful?” He turned to take the stairs, with reluctant steps.
She nodded. Words were complicated for her.
* * *
—
A few minutes before eleven, she rearranged the last stack of handouts and closed her laptop. After taking a quick shower and getting into her pajamas, she picked up the card with Karim’s number and read it again.
Missing you already, beautiful. Thank you for spending the day with me. —K
She giggled, picking up her phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” she said.
“Mmm, I hoped that was you. All done for the night?”
The sleepy timbre of his voice sent shivers over her skin.
“I am. Thank you again. You didn’t have to do all that, I’m sure you were tired already.”
“What was I going to do, beautiful? Let you struggle by yourself? I wouldn’t have been able to come home and relax knowing you were stressing out and I could have done something to help.”
“Guess I’m accustomed to being responsible for it all myself.”
He didn’t say anything at first.
She hesitated too, thinking she might have made a misstep, sounded egotistical or bossy somehow.
“That’s a lot to bear,” he finally said. “Why do you think that is?”
“Why do I think what is?” she asked.
“That you feel you have to do everything yourself? I mean, you don’t do it all the time; you have your staff. But in a crunch you wouldn’t reach out to them. And I’m not trying to get all psychiatrist-y on you or anything. It’s just, you know. Something to think about. I really appreciate you letting me help you if it’s hard for you to do that.”
She swallowed around a lump in her throat. How many times had RJ held up a mirror to the fact that she struggled with asking for help, had made life much harder on herself than she needed to because she just could not do it. Hell, he’d even printed out article after article, showing her that she’d arguably had something called an adverse childhood experience, having a mother who expected Isadora to have as few needs as possible. As a result, Isadora learned to be as perfect as possible, as self-reliant as possible. And now she couldn’t stop.
“I…um…yeah, sure,” she said, her voice unsteady. “I appreciate your help.”
She needed to change the subject. Get the focus off her.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you about,” she said, her voice evening out. “Though it’s about your divorce, your, um, wife. I don’t want to upset you.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t mind, it means…I’ll take it to mean that you’re curious about me, about what’s going on in my life.”
Isadora smiled. How could she not be curious?
“I am,” she said. “But, um. Earlier, you mentioned that your wife expected you to only think and feel the way she wanted you to. Is that a trait of people with her disorder?” Isadora asked.
“I’m not an expert,” Karim said. “But I think that’s one way it can express itself. Why do you ask?”
Isadora hesitated. What he’d described sounded so, so very familiar. What if Karim could get what dealing with her mother was like because he’d been there with his wife? But what if she opened up and he didn’t understand? Or worse, found a way to use it against her. Indecision zinged across her skin. She bit her lip hard, squeezed her eyes tight, and decided to leap.
“I have a family member. Who I think might be…like that,” she said. “So I was just curious.”
“It’s really hard to live with,” he said. “Because she was always expecting some sort of perfection that was rarely articulated. I mean, sometimes she’d say what she wanted me to do, but more often than not, I was just supposed to know what she wanted from me without her having to say it.”
A chill went down Isadora’s spine. That was exactly like her mother.
“And when I failed to meet her expectations, there was always some punishment. Either toward me or herself.”
“Um…punishment like what?”
“Could have been something minor, like embarrassing me in public, or something major, like self-harm,” he said.
How many times had her mother humiliated her in front of family members? Though she was too vain to injure herself.
“That’s intense,” Isadora said. “I’m sorry you went through all that.”
“I’m just glad it’s behind me now.”
“I bet.”
“Your family member,” he asked. “Have they ever gotten help?”
“What? Ha. Oh no, they never would. They don’t think anything is wrong with them. Everyone else is the problem.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty common thinking in personality disordered people. The joke is that it’s the rest of the family that ends up in therapy.”
“Oh,” she said. Maybe I need therapy. “I appreciate you being willing to talk about all of this with me, Karim.”
“It’s cool,” he said.
“But I imagine you don’t want to dwell on the past.”
“No,” he said. “I’ve got more enticing things to think about now. Like smart, intimidating chiefs of staff to the majority leader of the California State Senate.”
She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Aww. What a sweet thing to say.”
“I’m just being honest, beautiful.”
Karim
On Monday, Karim was just getting situated in his office when Julian appeared in his doorway.
“So,” he said. “I see you took advantage of the…social lubricating effects of the inauguration.”
Karim paused. Had Julian seen him with Isadora? He thought they’d been careful by leaving early. And Drew hadn’t seen him with Isadora, but someone else may have. Karim kicked himself internally.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You disappeared early. Found a friend and took the party elsewhere?” Julian’s grin soured Karim’s stomach. He decided to remain discreet.
“The meal was good and I did enjoy chatting with my colleagues. But I drove back here. Had to get to bed early enough for a good night’s sleep.”
“Did you? Guess the Johnny Cash look wasn’t as successful as you’d hoped.” Julian sidled in and took one of the seats across from Karim’s desk.
Discretion.
“Guess not,” Karim said.
Julian smirked. “Well,” he said. “Back to business. SB 317. Have you seen it?”
“No, I haven’t,” Karim said, turning a little in his chair to wake his laptop. “What’s it about?” He went into the bill search system and typed in 317. The summary indicated that it would create an obligation for each voter in the state to have a new identification card in order to participate in any election.
Julian grinned when Karim looked up from the screen.
“New voter ID? That’s quite an ambitious undertaking,” Karim said. “Why not just ask people to use their driver’s licenses? If any identification is necessary at all?”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those social justice warriors who wants a free-for-all when it comes to voting. Of course we need identification. We’ve been too lax. Shouldn’t have just anyone doing it. Should be the right people. And our people know that. Senators May and Davis. They represent the more conservative parts of the state; they already have support for the bill in terms of votes and donors. It’s the bit about requiring a new identification card that will bring the money in for us. Think of all the private vendors who will be thrilled at the opportunity to get a piece of the action.”
Karim was a bit lost.
“But if it’s a state-issued ID…”
Julian smiled.
“That’s not what the bill requires,” he said.
So it was about money. Money and making sure only the right people could vote. Karim’s skin was crawling. Julian stood up.
“Get familiar with the bill,” he said. “Then go have a chat with May and Davis’s directors. They need to be on board. This will be a fight. Senators Douglas and Knight have already been very vocal in opposition. But they’re from San Francisco. You know how those people are.”
Uh, no. How?
Karim cleared his throat.
“But, um, Julian. How do you plan for this sort of a measure to hold up? Voter identification attempts are frequently struck down in court. If you’re making everyone use a new form of identification, you’re creating a new cost burden on every single voter in the state. Voting ID is already an inflammatory issue. Why make it worse? And set up a legal battle?”
Julian waved his hand in the air.
“It will all come together. And the money will be rolling in before anyone goes to court. Just get the bill going, Karim.”
He turned and left.
Karim sat a moment. His boss was disgusting. He’d guessed Julian was two-faced at Ike’s that night; Julian had shown him that he was socially inappropriate at the stadium. And now he’d put the nail in the coffin in terms of Karim’s opinion of him on political issues. Karim didn’t have anything lined up yet, though. He’d never expected to be 100 percent in alignment with a boss, but this was going too far. So he’d go talk to May and Davis, these Capulets. Make notes to show Julian that he was doing his job. And he’d start making friends with the other side.
There was only one Montague who truly interested him, though. He wondered what Isadora was up to that morning. Their offices weren’t on the same floor, so he rarely had a chance to run into her in the hallways. There was the occasional possibility to cross paths with her when he was on his way to a committee meeting. He’d been holding his breath for those chances just to see her, but now…He smiled. Now he could reach out any time he wanted to. Even though she had to know who his boss really was. Could she be playing him? Trying to get an ally inside of Julian’s team? She’d certainly been there long enough to know who was who and what was what. But her interest in him seemed genuine. And there was most certainly a risk for her too. She’d referred to it on the drive. He wanted to reach out again. But he didn’t want to annoy her. Though she’d said she wanted to learn more about him. He wished they could go out together and get to know each other. But their bosses were outright enemies. No way they could be seen in public together, especially if their mutual interest was visible.
As Karim stepped out of the elevator and headed toward Senator May’s office, his personal phone started ringing. He fished it out of his pocket, letting himself hope it was Isadora, even though he knew it wouldn’t be. The caller ID flashed a Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, number.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Mr. Sarda?” a young woman’s voice said. “Attorney Sanders calling for you. Is now a good time?”
“Oh, yeah, now’s good,” he said. He looked around and ducked into a darkened committee meeting room. There wasn’t an agenda posted on the panel by the door, so he figured he’d have some privacy.
