play is emotionally taxing. After you leave, I’m going to have him rest for a while. What else?”
“Peaceful. Sated.” Blissful .
Rey gets a yes, grasshopper smirk on his face. “That’s what I’m talking about. Everyone’s happy. This is better, right? This is what you want?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”
“Then I’ll help you get it. But let me remind you, if you let this urge spill into your workplace or anywhere else it hasn’t been explicitly and enthusiastically agreed upon, you’re toast. You don’t have an excuse any more, however weak it was in the first place. You know better and you’ll behave accordingly.”
Yes, I will.
Chapter Five
‡
O nly a day later but what feels like a world away, I’m back in my office. I’m finding it difficult to focus, what with Rey and Matthew blowing my goddamn mind last night, but focus I must. Because it doesn’t matter how long I stare at the poster board on my wall—I can squint at it sideways or stand on my head and it would still say the same thing. I need more votes. One of my staffers made this chart and it’s actually quite useful. Color-coded, the names in green tell me I’ve got their support, the reds are hell nos, and the yellows are the ones who are going to decide whether this bill gets passed or goes to rot.
I’ve already sicced staffers on the more likely ones, and I have no doubt that we’ll be turning some of them by the end of the week. I’ve decided to focus what attention isn’t playing back the scene from last night over and over in my mind on the senators who might best be qualified as orange: unlikely, but fuck if I’m not going to try. Because if we want to get this done, we’re going to need at least a couple of them. And my gaze keeps returning to one name in particular.
Johnson. Fucking A. Of all the senators, I’m going to need a favor from this one. A good ol’ boy from Texas. His district is mostly rural and moneyed, and the only reason I have even a shot in hell is that he’s got a military base. That’s what this is about. A new joint program between HUD and Veterans Affairs with a housing-first agenda.
Normally I’d say Johnson is the last person on the planet who could get behind Housing First, because conservatives don’t tend to like the attitude of putting a roof over people’s heads and then dealing with their substance abuse, unemployment, health, and myriad other problems. No, they feel like it’s “getting something for nothing,” even though it’s more cost-effective. And even as I make the argument—that the people this will help are the deserving poor, people who’ve served their country—it makes me want to vomit. Who the fuck are you to decide who’s “deserving?” But I know targeting gives us a better chance of getting this passed.
Maybe when they see that it works, we’ll be able to convince them to expand the coverage to people who aren’t veterans. And the self-same people who are giving me a hard time on this will stand in front of cameras and microphones in their home states and talk about what fucking heroes they are, after fighting me tooth and nail for something that seems so goddamn obvious. I’d like to strangle them with the bootstraps they’re so fond of talking about.
The only reason Johnson’s not red is that he’s got a significant military population in his district and they’ve been facing some issues with homelessness. Not to mention that he’s always been a pretty vocal advocate for vets. He’s a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, though. I’m guessing that instructions to toe the party line will override any personal preferences he has when it comes to getting veterans off the street, which is why I’m picturing him as more of a tangerine than a lemon.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s also buddy-buddy with my father-in-law. Correction— ex -father-in-law. Which makes it even worse.
“Son of a holy godforsaken—”
My staffer Becky is
“Peaceful. Sated.” Blissful .
Rey gets a yes, grasshopper smirk on his face. “That’s what I’m talking about. Everyone’s happy. This is better, right? This is what you want?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”
“Then I’ll help you get it. But let me remind you, if you let this urge spill into your workplace or anywhere else it hasn’t been explicitly and enthusiastically agreed upon, you’re toast. You don’t have an excuse any more, however weak it was in the first place. You know better and you’ll behave accordingly.”
Yes, I will.
Chapter Five
‡
O nly a day later but what feels like a world away, I’m back in my office. I’m finding it difficult to focus, what with Rey and Matthew blowing my goddamn mind last night, but focus I must. Because it doesn’t matter how long I stare at the poster board on my wall—I can squint at it sideways or stand on my head and it would still say the same thing. I need more votes. One of my staffers made this chart and it’s actually quite useful. Color-coded, the names in green tell me I’ve got their support, the reds are hell nos, and the yellows are the ones who are going to decide whether this bill gets passed or goes to rot.
I’ve already sicced staffers on the more likely ones, and I have no doubt that we’ll be turning some of them by the end of the week. I’ve decided to focus what attention isn’t playing back the scene from last night over and over in my mind on the senators who might best be qualified as orange: unlikely, but fuck if I’m not going to try. Because if we want to get this done, we’re going to need at least a couple of them. And my gaze keeps returning to one name in particular.
Johnson. Fucking A. Of all the senators, I’m going to need a favor from this one. A good ol’ boy from Texas. His district is mostly rural and moneyed, and the only reason I have even a shot in hell is that he’s got a military base. That’s what this is about. A new joint program between HUD and Veterans Affairs with a housing-first agenda.
Normally I’d say Johnson is the last person on the planet who could get behind Housing First, because conservatives don’t tend to like the attitude of putting a roof over people’s heads and then dealing with their substance abuse, unemployment, health, and myriad other problems. No, they feel like it’s “getting something for nothing,” even though it’s more cost-effective. And even as I make the argument—that the people this will help are the deserving poor, people who’ve served their country—it makes me want to vomit. Who the fuck are you to decide who’s “deserving?” But I know targeting gives us a better chance of getting this passed.
Maybe when they see that it works, we’ll be able to convince them to expand the coverage to people who aren’t veterans. And the self-same people who are giving me a hard time on this will stand in front of cameras and microphones in their home states and talk about what fucking heroes they are, after fighting me tooth and nail for something that seems so goddamn obvious. I’d like to strangle them with the bootstraps they’re so fond of talking about.
The only reason Johnson’s not red is that he’s got a significant military population in his district and they’ve been facing some issues with homelessness. Not to mention that he’s always been a pretty vocal advocate for vets. He’s a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, though. I’m guessing that instructions to toe the party line will override any personal preferences he has when it comes to getting veterans off the street, which is why I’m picturing him as more of a tangerine than a lemon.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s also buddy-buddy with my father-in-law. Correction— ex -father-in-law. Which makes it even worse.
“Son of a holy godforsaken—”
My staffer Becky is
Similar Books
