Arguments with Woody had never been personal before. They’d been through too much together. Arguments were a game for Woody, part of the show. But Frank wondered if it was still true. He wondered if Woody hadn’t seen the handwriting on the wall. When they started the business, elections were tough, but day-to-day politics had been a clash of ideas and philosophy brought together by the strength and character of men and women willing to work with each other and compromise for the sake of the country. Now the two parties had circled the wagons, trying to hold their positions whatever the cost. Compromise and moderation were dirty words. Strength and character in short supply. Campaigns were never ending, more like a war with the winner the one left standing. And Frank knew that his partner was having trouble making the transition. If you didn’t kill your opponent, your opponent would kill you.

Frank printed two copies of his spot, looked up and noticed Linda in her office on the other side of the war room. She stood by the window with the sun on her face, gazing at the Capitol as she spoke on the phone and twirled the cord between her thumb and forefinger, probably checking in with a client or campaign manager. As he looked at her long legs, his memories of the body underneath her tweed suit came rushing into his head. The times they’d had when they were together. It was like that every day he saw her. It was like that even when he was alone and only thinking of her in his head.

He missed her. He missed everything about her.

They had met in New York during the governor’s campaign and spent long hours on the road together in what had become an unexpectedly tight race. Linda was a smart campaign manager, had a natural instinct for politics and they had become good friends. When she expressed interest in moving from Albany, Frank asked her to join the firm and taught her everything he knew. Linda was someone he could talk to. Someone who got it the first time. Then, on a snowy night in February, it finally happened. He remembered her green eyes lingering on his mouth. The taste of their first kiss. The feeling in his chest when they touched each other. He could still feel it even though it had ended more than a year and a half ago.

Linda laughed into the phone. Frank tried to look away, but couldn’t. Maybe she wasn’t talking to a client after all. Maybe it was someone more personal, more intimate.