best3
A few weeks after talking to Corrie, she interviewed to be the
volunteer organizer on a local political campaign. Bailey, the
campaign director, asked why she even wanted the job because
frankly-and he wasn't sure how much she was making now, of
course, but he was fairly sure this role would mean a significant pay
cut for her. She told him that she liked the dynamic nature of her
current work but felt her efforts could be better spent. The events
she organized only placated the egos of one percenters who, in the
end, would choose tax cuts over the environmental policies their
fundraisers sponsored. Plus she didn't have time to spend all the
money she made, anyway. Bailey leaned back, took off his round
glasses and rubbed his eyes. "God," he said. "I'm so relieved I don't
have to do any more interviews."
Bailey broke up with the woman he was seeing and asked her out.
The two of them had no downtime at all until the election was over
though, and they didn't really have much afterwards either because
soon Bailey was inundated with offers to jump on other races. Late
one afternoon they were at her place and Bailey was on the phone in
the living room, talking with a candidate in Sacramento who'd been
badgering him all week. She was in the kitchen trying to eavesdrop
and rinse plates at the same time. Finally, she heard Bailey say he
would agree to come on board, but only to co-direct the candidate's
campaign-he wanted his fianc俥 to be his partner. When she
turned around, Bailey was in the doorway smiling at her with a
hopeful, whaddaya say shrug.
On the eve of the wedding, Bailey's parents hosted a dinner in their
backyard. Around ten she extracted herself from the party, snuck
upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom. She pulled out her
phone and called up the app where she'd drafted a text to
Graham: Hey-been a long time I know. Just wanted to say that I wish
you well in everything.
She was nervous. She imagined Graham checking his phone, seeing
her name, how he would feel. But she wanted her marriage to be
successful, and good fortune had come to Graham after he'd
messaged her. She wasn't religious, but she did ascribe to a vague
idea that maybe there were uncanny connections within the chaotic
tangle of existence. Maybe she had stumbled on one. Her heart
thumped comically as she pressed send.
volunteer organizer on a local political campaign. Bailey, the
campaign director, asked why she even wanted the job because
frankly-and he wasn't sure how much she was making now, of
course, but he was fairly sure this role would mean a significant pay
cut for her. She told him that she liked the dynamic nature of her
current work but felt her efforts could be better spent. The events
she organized only placated the egos of one percenters who, in the
end, would choose tax cuts over the environmental policies their
fundraisers sponsored. Plus she didn't have time to spend all the
money she made, anyway. Bailey leaned back, took off his round
glasses and rubbed his eyes. "God," he said. "I'm so relieved I don't
have to do any more interviews."
Bailey broke up with the woman he was seeing and asked her out.
The two of them had no downtime at all until the election was over
though, and they didn't really have much afterwards either because
soon Bailey was inundated with offers to jump on other races. Late
one afternoon they were at her place and Bailey was on the phone in
the living room, talking with a candidate in Sacramento who'd been
badgering him all week. She was in the kitchen trying to eavesdrop
and rinse plates at the same time. Finally, she heard Bailey say he
would agree to come on board, but only to co-direct the candidate's
campaign-he wanted his fianc俥 to be his partner. When she
turned around, Bailey was in the doorway smiling at her with a
hopeful, whaddaya say shrug.
On the eve of the wedding, Bailey's parents hosted a dinner in their
backyard. Around ten she extracted herself from the party, snuck
upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom. She pulled out her
phone and called up the app where she'd drafted a text to
Graham: Hey-been a long time I know. Just wanted to say that I wish
you well in everything.
She was nervous. She imagined Graham checking his phone, seeing
her name, how he would feel. But she wanted her marriage to be
successful, and good fortune had come to Graham after he'd
messaged her. She wasn't religious, but she did ascribe to a vague
idea that maybe there were uncanny connections within the chaotic
tangle of existence. Maybe she had stumbled on one. Her heart
thumped comically as she pressed send.
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