Chapter 6
Dot yelled “Yay!” when the doorbell rang and rushed to open the door to her friends.
“Welcome!” she said, arms wide.
“Sorry we came empty-handed,” Harper said. “I’ll make it up to you when it’s safe to have people over to my apartment. My roommates are so messy.”
“Nonsense. We’re past all that! Come in, come in.” She took their coats and hung them on the coat-tree. Harper and Mary set their bags down on the bench in the foyer.
They traded hugs and air kisses all while coming out of the hall and into the living room.
Dot had lit two candles on the mantel and turned the gas fireplace on low.
She loved her tidy bright living room and the quirky kitchen with the tiny stove.
She’d painted the walls in a creamy ivory and the moldings in a rich camel color.
Her grandmother’s paintings decorated the place, including a commissioned portrait of Dot and her younger sister, Anne, set at the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park.
In Dot’s mind, it was the perfect place to live, and she had no intention of ever moving.
She loved the city and didn’t want to live anywhere else.
“Sit,” Dot said, gesturing to the small sofa. “Tell me everything.”
“You first,” Mary said. “How’s Ryan?”
Dot blinked at her. “He’s . . . fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yep—I mean, more than fine. I’m just. . . .” Dot couldn’t find the words.
“Just what?” Mary had great relationship-problem radar. She searched Dot’s face.
“Nothing! He’s great.”
“Oh, now he’s great, not fine?” Harper chimed in. “What’s wrong?”
“Look, I know everyone says this, but it’s not him. It’s me. It’s really just me.”
“So, it’s definitely him.” Harper tucked stray strands of curly hair behind her ears.
“Wait. Are you going to break up with him?” Mary continued the interrogation.
“Oh gosh I don’t know. No. I mean. I don’t know.” Dot wasn’t ready to say those words. She pleaded, “Could we talk about this later?”
“You’re killing me but . . . in your words, ‘fine,’” Mary said.
“Great!” Dot said, relieved. “Let’s change the subject. Harper, how’s teaching?” Dot knew it had been a rough transition since her return from Senegal.
“Oh, you know—same old story. You wouldn’t believe how much rich families get away with.
Today it was the Laschers. I gave their kid a C-minus on an essay, which he should have flunked, but I was being kind.
Then the parents came in to complain.” She switched to imitating Mrs. Lascher’s posh accent.
“Oh, Harper, be reasonable. Our helicopter broke down, so Miles couldn’t possibly have had time to do his homework. ”
“Wow. My parents would have killed me,” Mary said. “They were old school. The teacher was always right.”
“Same,” Harper said.
“Don’t worry, Harp. What goes around comes around,” Dot said. “They’ll be stuck paying his bills for forever. Then they’ll probably divorce and blame one another for failing at parenthood.”
“Well, I’m not looking forward to the rest of the semester. Ms. Thistlewood will be watching me with her big owl eyes. But also, have you seen this?” She held up her phone. Kai and his Portuguese girlfriend were hawking some new energy drink. They were trying to be influencers.
“Unfollow him, Harper. Here, give me your phone.” Mary tried to wrestle it from her, but she hid it in the cushions.
“I will. Tonight. Or tomorrow.”
Dot and Mary made eye contact. Harper was still mad about Kai.
“Suit yourself. But one day you’ll tell me I was right.” Mary raised an eyebrow at Harper.
“You always are!” Harper snapped back.
“Girls! Let’s have a drink.” Dot poured the wine.
Their sushi order from Sugarfish was on its way.
Mary had offered to treat after her dad had put an extra $150 in her Venmo account when she’d told him about her evening plans.
He texted, “Tell the girls I said to come see us one Sunday for a real meal! Sushi is for the birds. Literally.”
“So, what’s this all about tonight, Dot?” Mary took the bottle from Dot and poured a big glass. She reached over and squeezed Harper’s hand. All was forgiven. “Some political thing?”
“Yep. Remember Kitty Bell from college?”
“Oh, yeah. The redhead every guy was crazy about?” Harper said. “Wasn’t she president of the College Dems?”
“Exactly. She was the one who graduated early and made a big show of her move to Washington.” Mary remembered liking her. “I guess she was cool. Not necessarily a girl’s girl, though.”
“I always got the feeling she thought she was better than the rest of us,” Harper said.
“I sort of remember her that way, too. But I have to say, she’s really landed on her feet,” Dot said.
“She has this amazing job where she has control of a bunch of money to help Democrats win races across the country. She’s kicking off the campaign season with this huge conference call so that she can get people interested and recruit volunteers.
And tonight, as I mentioned, she invited George and Amal Clooney as the draw. ”
“She’s not looking for money, right? Because I’m maxed out for this cycle!” Harper joked.
“Maybe the Laschers can donate,” Mary deadpanned.
“Ha! I can loop them in. That’ll be my contribution.”
“They probably vote Republican, though, don’t you think—Upper East Siders?” Dot asked.
“Good point. That fits,” Harper said.
“Anyway,” Dot continued explaining what she knew, “I don’t think Kitty’s group is asking for money from people like us.
I get the sense that big-time donors give her huge amounts of money and tell her to spend it as she sees fit.
And because it’s a Super PAC, the original check writers can remain anonymous.
My dad was telling me it used to be just the GOP that used dark money to win races, but the Democrats have caught up.
In fact, one of our tech clients just started a PAC to help elect candidates who want to build a compound on Mars.
They give to both parties, because they have more money than they know what to do with. ”
“How about helping people get health insurance first?” Mary asked.
“That might come up tonight. Health insurance, housing costs, climate change, abortion rights. Maybe other things. Kitty reached out on Instagram to invite me. I think she needs to show a high number on the Zoom count tonight to help justify her job.”
The doorbell rang. Mary jumped up. “I’ll get it.” Her stomach was rumbling.
While Harper and Mary unboxed the shrimp shumai and spicy tuna rolls, Dot positioned the computer in a way that all three of them could see and logged onto the call. Whoa. Over five thousand people had already joined.
“Good turnout,” Dot said, making sure her microphone was muted.
Mary and Harper set the rest of the sushi out on the coffee table, and Dot got each of them a small tray to hold on their laps. The buffet was open and the call was about to get going.
“Welcome, everyone! It’s great to see so many people here for our inaugural For the Win call. I’m Kaitlyn Bell, but everyone calls me Kitty. I’m the executive director of the PAC.”
Disguising her upper Midwest accent, Kitty sounded elegant and mature, like she’d left her early twenties behind.
Her long dark red hair was blown straight and parted slightly off center.
Her milky white skin was enhanced by a glowing foundation and professional eye makeup.
She wore a fitted royal-blue blazer and diamond stud earrings.
She was definitely pulled together. Harper sat up a little taller at the sight of her.
“Let me kick things off. I know you’ve probably heard this before—but this time it’s true: The next election is the most important of our lifetime.
” She paused for effect. “I’m excited to have you here.
FTW has big plans for the coming year. And I’m so pleased to turn the microphone over to our honored guests, George and Amal Clooney. ”
The Hollywood couple beamed onto their screens, and it was almost like having a one on one with them.
“Have you ever seen more beautiful people?” Harper asked. “My gosh, she makes me want to delete every selfie in my camera roll.”
Dot kept her focus on the screen and listening to the Clooneys, but her mind turned to Kitty.
She knew that she’d always had big plans.
She’d never been shy about wanting to work in the White House one day.
She even used a photo of herself as a child during the Obama administration standing on a stool behind the press secretary’s briefing podium as her profile picture on social media.
So, she’d been building on this dream for nearly two decades as Dot was still trying to figure out her next move.
While Dot lost focus for a couple of minutes, the Clooneys wrapped up their introduction and turned it back over to Kitty. Their work was done.
“I wonder how much Kitty had to pay for their appearance,” Mary asked.
“You don’t think they did that for free?” Harper asked.
“Nothing in politics is free, Harp.”
Kitty took back over, gushed about the Clooneys’ dedication to the party, and gave an overview of the political landscape.
She shared maps that showed the heartbreaking loss Democrats suffered in 2024 and then another with For the Win’s projections of how Democrats could capture enough states to take back the White House in the next election.
“It’s pretty amazing that Kitty got through all that scandal in her congressional office when she first got to Washington,” Dot said.
“What scandal?” Harper didn’t stay up to speed on Washington politics.
“Oh, you never heard about that? When she left NYU, she got a job working for her home-state senator—from Minnesota. And not long after she moved to D.C. to take the job, he had to resign after an influencer posted that he was having an affair with a lobbyist.” Dot tried to make a long story short.
“It was a mess. Kitty had to scramble to get a new job, and from what I know, she almost gave up on politics altogether.”