The Second Sister Read Online Free Page B

more could you want?”
    â€œVery tempting,” I said. “But if Ryland wins . . .”
    Joe’s smile disappeared. “Lucy, he’s not going to win. Quinnipiac has you down by five. You can’t close the gap in a week. Even if you could, why would you stay on? Ryland won’t give you a big job, Lucy. You know that. Otherwise, he’d never have let Miles push you out of the spotlight.”
    He leaned forward, his expression absolutely solemn. “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but just this once, let’s lay it all out there. You pulled off a miracle in Iowa and for a week you were a hero. You were interviewed on CNN. The Washington Post called you Ryland’s secret weapon, the architect of a brilliant but bare-bones campaign based on jobs, jobs, and more jobs that appealed to disaffected moderates who’d given up on voting and catapulted a candidate no one had ever heard of into a front-runner. For a week, you were a genius. Money poured in, big donors got on board, the party elite started paying attention, and the media was giving Tom the kind of coverage money can’t buy. For a week.”
    He paused, giving me a chance to fill in the blank.
    â€œAnd then came New Hampshire,” I said. “And we came in second to last.”
    Joe nodded slowly. “Uh-huh. And the people who sang your praises after Iowa started throwing rocks after New Hampshire. They said you were in over your head, too inexperienced to run a national campaign.”
    â€œAnd I was! I knew that!”
    I pushed away my plate, wishing I hadn’t eaten so fast. The food had given me indigestion. Or maybe it was the conversation.
    â€œThe plan was to do just well enough in Iowa and New Hampshire so Tom would be seen as credible,” I said. “Then we could attract larger donors and afford real advertising and a manager with national experience. I’d always planned to step aside!”
    Joe gave me a “get real” sort of look. “It’s one thing to take a step to the side, Lucy. It’s another thing to get sent down. If you hadn’t done quite so well in Iowa, built up expectations, and done a little better in New Hampshire—”
    â€œWe didn’t have an advertising budget! The donations came in too late!”
    Joe held up his hands. “Hey. You don’t need to defend yourself to me. I know what you were up against. But, fair or not, you were the one who was held responsible. Let me ask you something. Did Tom stand up for you?”
    Joe was staring right at me, his eyes practically boring through me. I stared right back. I wasn’t going to let him get to me.
    â€œLook. It wasn’t his idea. He was getting a lot of pressure from the big donors. We had to make changes or the money would have dried up.”
    â€œYou didn’t answer the question,” Joe said, still staring. “Did Tom Ryland stand up for you? Did he tell them that New Hampshire wasn’t your fault?”
    I turned my head away. He already knew the answer.
    â€œExactly,” Joe said. “It might not have been his idea, but he let them push you aside because by that time, he started to believe he really could win. And he wants that, very much.”
    â€œWe both do,” I said. “There’s no point in running if you’re not in it to win.”
    â€œLucy,” he said in a chiding tone, “you should have walked away after Iowa instead of sticking around and letting Miles shuffle you off to organize coffee klatches for women’s groups. I see you killing yourself . . . working ninety-hour weeks . . . Why? Some misplaced sense of loyalty? Are you trying to redeem yourself in the eyes of the world? In your own eyes? What’s in it for you? I don’t get it.”
    I grabbed the edge of the table, but really, I felt like smashing it with my fist.
    â€œFirst off, what’s wrong with loyalty? And second, is it