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actual resumes. What does being a lifeguard at a neighborhood pool have to do with anything?”
    “I was manager and I had several employees and…the scheduling…”
    “Did you ever have to save someone’s life?”
    Not then. “No.”
    “Would you say that’s because you ran a tight ship and accidents were prevented rather than dealt with?” Samuel Winter asked.
    “Yeh…”
    “Then that should be on your resume—that you provided a safe environment. Not maintained chlorine levels and what was it “the pumps?” You handed me a grocery list.”
    “I’m sorry…”
    “You and just about everyone else who isn’t full of shit. So now is your chance to bull shit me, Alice. Tell me why you would be a good assistant in helping me mange Duke Hall’s campaign for State Senate…and then the White House. Because that’s where we’re headed. If you can’t get us there then hold back those tears and walk through that door. Don’t embarrass yourself or me. There are jobs that most people aren’t cut out for, and this is one of them. I’m looking for someone special.”
    Bacon ranch.
    Dammit, Rickey!
    “Was that funny?” Samuel Winter asked. He glared at me until I lost it.
    “First of all, Duke Hall is a Republican with too much money and a black wife. Most of his party won’t vote for him because they hate rich people who can’t relate to their financial burdens…and then there are the racists. The liberals might appreciate his interracial marriage and children, but his stance on abortion rules out the majority of those voters. So you tell me how you plan to get him into the White House?”
    Samuel Winter checked with the man who had escorted me in. They smirked back and forth like frat boys with a plan to steal a keg.
    “You’re the first. You’ve got a fire to you, don’t you?”
    “I just thought it was funny,” I said. “You seem so sure, but I don’t think you know much about your candidate other than the fact that his pocket stretched enough to pay for you little charade of a campaign.”
    “Then why are you here?”
    “I’m pro-life. Not a racist. And I don’t care how much money people have so long as their mission is to protect what I hold sacred. That and I didn’t want to sell life insurance in some pyramid scheme.”
    “How fast can you type?”
    “I drink decaf so that I don’t burn through keyboards.”
    “Do you have any driving violations?”
    “I haven’t been caught yet. But I’ve got a pretty smile and a sad cry face.”
    “How good is your memory? Can you take dictation or…”
    “I take dictation fine. I keep notes if it is important. I had great grades before I dropped out. Problem was college is just a bunch of people making money off a bunch of people who don’t yet know the value of money…or education.”
    Samuel Winter’s smile was genuine. And the guy who led me in was suppressing giggles. If there was one thing I was good at, it was being fiery once someone pissed me off. Rickey can vouch for that. But he’s probably too busy thinking about bacon and ranch chalupas. He was making me hungry and that pissed me off more.
    “Miss Collins, do you have a boyfriend?”
    “No.”
    ><><
    Three months later, I’m in a tight black dress that I wish Rickey could see, at a gala with so much to do that I shouldn’t be thinking about Rickey Jones and all his stupid boy thoughts.
    Duke Hall was making nice with everyone in sight. He was genuine. He laughed, big hearty laughs that arched his back and required a shoulder pat of whoever was closest to him. If he had been sitting, he would’ve slapped a knee. His wife corralled their children who had worn a suit and a dress that matched their parents’.
    “He looks great,” I said.
    Samuel Winter backwashed. He only ever pretended to drink champagne. He hated it. He liked whiskey and would spend all day boring me to death with what made whiskey the best drink on the planet. It tasted like sap to me, dull, gummy,