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Portland, OR
November 2nd, 2020

“I can trust you, right?”

“How can you even ask me that? Of course you can trust me? I’m actually kind of insulted.”

“Good, because last time you hung me out to dry when we did this.”

“That was-”

“It was about your self-interest and that of your party, don’t try to deny it because you admitted it later on.”

“Okay, so I made a mistake!”

The answering snort wasn’t much in the way of a response but it was given with such disdain that Milton couldn’t help but feel rightly chastised as he shook hands with his business partner, grimacing as Chad gripped his hand just a little harder than usual, as though to make his point.

Today hadn’t quite gone the way he wanted it to, especially considering where the current POTUS was at in the polls. He’d been crowing so loudly about Trump’s chances of retaining his place in the White House that he and many others hadn’t seen the rise of the Democrats and their surprise candidate until it was too late. They’d noticed her of course, but it had been laughable to think that a woman would be able to displace Trump when he’d already bested Hillary four years ago and had made it clear that he’d always expected to win.

As his partner walked away, the hard soles of his shoes making a hollow sound upon the tile floor, Milton eyed the back of his three-hundred dollar suit and wondered if Chad really did trust him to come through on their current agreement. Trump was still just barely ahead in the polls, but his opponent was catching up quickly, far too quickly to be believed. It was as though she was sprinkling magic fairy dust over the people to entrance them and then making their dreams come true some how in a way that shifted them to her side.

He didn’t want to admit it, and he wouldn’t to anyone within ear shot, but Trump could actually lose this time.

And if he did, then Milton was up a certain creek without a paddle.

(to be continued)

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