Party Lines (2 page)

***

 “It
was probably just a lucky break.” Bradford Hopkins stood looking out of the
hotel window, watching the city lights twinkle below. Behind him, Ron Sharp was
pacing, and everyone else had cleared the room. Sharp’s appearance on Touchpoint
had been a disaster and everyone knew the campaign would be distracted the
following day by all the damage control that would need to be done.

Any
other campaign manager would have gotten a dressing down, but not Ron Sharp.
Hopkins and everyone else knew that no one could make him feel any worse than
he did, and the he would find a way to recover. But Ron had something else to
worry about. Lindsay Martin.

When
the Faircloth campaign had hired her, Hopkins camp had erupted into what could
only be described as a celebration. For weeks it had been rumored that she
would run, and would pump millions into hiring a high-profile manager on board.
When she’d chosen an unknown librarian and part-time liberal activist they
couldn’t believe their good fortune.

But
Lindsay Martin had proved to have a knack for managing campaign. When Sharp
hit, she hit back with well-worded ads and interviews. Despite the fact that
she was about his age, she looked younger. And her girl-next-door
attractiveness and good nature endeared her to
men
and
women alike. She was an effective representative for her candidate, and as the
campaign intensified, the missteps the Hopkins campaign expected never came.

“No,
it’s more than a lucky break.” Ron Sharp shook his head. “I’m beginning to
think this little gal Clara Faircloth hired is going to be a real problem for
us. She’s countering us on every front, and the media is cutting her slack
because she’s an unknown. They’re as impressed with her as they are with Clara.
And that’s bad for us because it’s making them softer on the Faircloth campaign
in general.

This
of course, wasn’t entirely true. But there was some truth in it. While Lindsay
had fielded her share of tough questions, her personal charm and air of quiet
confidence seemed to disarm editorial boards and television personalities. Ron
Sharp, well known for his aggressive nature, wasn’t warranted the same
kid-glove treatment.

“So
what are you going to do?” Hopkins asked the question with a tone that
suggested he expected his campaign manager to do something.

“I
tell you what I’d like to do,” he said. “I’d like to put her across my lap and
blister her ass for pulling a stunt like that. It was way out of line. I just
punched her candidate and what does she do? She hits us back with a brick.
Totally unfair.”

Hopkins
laughed. “Well, I don’t thinking spanking the opposing campaign’s manager is
allowable.”

Ron
returned the laugh, but privately he was thinking that was exactly what he’d
like to do. Lindsay Martin was way too full of herself, and there was only
one way
to deal with women like that.

Ron
knew that because he’d done it before. There was a reason he was a
dyed-in-the-wool conservative; it was because he truly believed the values he
espoused, and only supported candidates who advanced the views he felt were in
danger of becoming extinct. And among those views was a return to more
traditional roles for men and women.

Ron
Sharp hated liberalism, especially the way it manifested itself through the
feminist movement. He blamed it for his divorce, and the divorce of many of his
friends and colleagues.

He
reflected back to his own failed relationship with Tina. They’d married right
out of college and it seemed to be a perfect union – two Young
Republicans from well-appointed families. After a honeymoon in Costa Rica, they’d
settled into a tudor-style house on an oak-lined street in a good neighborhood.

The
plan was for Tina to keep house while he worked as an attorney. Both wanted to
start a family as soon as possible, and eleven months after the wedding Tina
gave birth to their son Brian.

But
staying at home wasn’t enough for Tina, who grew bored with what
she
termed inane playground talk. Soon she was talking about
going back to school for her masters degree in architecture and getting a job
that would put the skills she had learned to use.

“But
you’ve got plenty to do here," Ron had objected in what had become their
first really big argument. “Just wait until Brian is in school.”

Tina
had not been willing to wait, and had told him so. He had objected and they’d
argued in low shouts for fear of waking their sleeping son upstairs. But the
argument and escalated, and when Tina threw a lamp at her husband it had seemed
perfectly natural to him to pick her up, haul her to the sofa and pull her across
his lap.

She’d
struggled and shrieked as he’d pulled down the sweatpants she was wearing, and
cursed him when the panties quickly followed. But Ron was resolute in what he
had to do. He would be master in his own home, and no woman was going to throw
anything at him.

He
raised his hand and began to spank her, watching in near fascination as the
white globes of his wife’s bottom quickly turned red under his punishing hand.
But for Tina, the punishment held no fascination. Within moments her curses had
turned to cries as her husband gave
her the
first
thorough spanking she’d had since childhood.

“You
will not defy me, young lady,” Ron had said as he alternated blistering spanks
first on one cheek then the other. For Tina’s part, the spanking held no
fascination for her, only pain and humiliation. But afterwards, there was an
unexpected benefit for both of them.

As
Ron held his crying wife, gently admonishing her to remember her place, she’d
begun to kiss him, first softly then earnestly. And what had begun as a fight
ended with a night of tender lovemaking and are renewed agreement from Tina to
put aside talk of a career and concentrate on keeping their home, at least
until Brian was older.

For
his part, the spanking reinforced Ron’s notion that only a man willing to take
charge in his family could take charge in his life. As the years went by, he
continued to lead, both in and out of the home.

But
as his career advanced and he moved into the realm of political campaigning,
his job took him away from Tina, who quickly felt neglected and turned to her
girlfriends for companionship. Those girlfriends often had ideas that were
contrary to the values she and Ron held, and when she went to work after Brian
entered school, Tina underwent changes that her husband knew spankings could
not reverse.

They
divorced a year later, over Ron’s heated objections and he still blamed liberal
influences for turning his sweet, submissive wife into someone he no longer
recognized. But he didn’t hold himself completely blameless. He knew that if he’d
been available to guide Tina, he could have shielded her from the influences
that had destroyed their family and left him a part-time father to his son.

But
what was done was done, and Ron knew there was no use ruminating over past
mistakes. What mattered at this moment was the current situation, which
included a different kind of female who insisted on thinking above her station.

Ron’s
inner eye filled with the vision of Lindsay Martin’s face. She was a pretty
thing,
he had to admit that, with her sleek, brunette hair
and big brown eyes that gave her something of a waif-like look. Like most
women, she capitalized on her looks. And it was serving her well. But that was
only because most people – and a lot of men – were shallow.

Even
he had to admit he’d underestimated her. But that was about to change. If he
weren’t careful, Clara Faircloth would edge ahead in the polls and had him and
his candidate their first political defeat. Right now, they were neck and neck,
but in the morning he was sure the replays of Touchpoint would give Faircloth
an edge. And with the election just months off he could not afford to allow her
any momentum.

Clara
Faircloth was a frustrating candidate to run against because – while she
had no prior record to run on – or criticize, she’d proven herself a
brilliant businesswoman and philanthropist. She’d managed or sat on numerous
non-profit boards, was an effective speaker and had a matronly air that
prevented anyone from accusing her of using her sexuality as a tool. And
although she was a supporter of women’s rights, she had yet to play the gender
card.

No,
attacking Clara Faircloth directly might backfire. It had tonight, after all.
So if you can’t knock off the queen, what’s the next best thing? Ron Sharp knew
the answer to this: Knock
off
her top general. In this
case, the general was a petite, brown-eyed brunette who was about to get a
taste of just how cruel politics could get.

Yes,
Lindsay Martin was about to move up to the big leagues, and by the time he was
finished with her, she wouldn’t know what hit her. The only thing he had to do
now was to find her one weakness.

Chapter
Two

“He
must be kidding. Is this an ad or a Saturday Night Live parody?” Lindsay hit
the rewind button, then the stop button and then “Play,” and watched again in
disbelief as the ad began to roll.

“Drugs.
Crime. Divorce. An overall decline of respect for religion and the values that
made this country great.” A solemn, female voice intoned as images of crack
addicts, thugs and arguing couples filled the screen.  If you believe
these things have negatively impacted your life, your family, your nation then
thank a liberal.”

“Liberalism
is behind the exodus of mothers from the home, and into dead end jobs they
think they need to take to pay the ever-increasing taxes left-wing politicians
demand to pay for programs like sex education curriculum for our children and
needle-sharing programs for drug addicts. But hope is on the horizon.”

The
screen faded to black for a moment and then to an image of Bradford Hopkins.

“Bradford
Hopkins,” the voice now said, almost dreamily. “
is
a
husband and a family man. And unlike his unmarried, childless opponent he
understands family issues, and is committed to fighting for the rights of
families – and children – to be able to afford to have an at-home
mom. This ad paid for by the Committee to Elect Bradford Hopkins.”

“So
vote for Bradford Hopkins, and give your child he best care he or she can know.
A mother’s care.”

Lindsay
clicked the television off and shook her head. “I cannot believe he called you ‘childless.”

Beside
her, Clara Faircloth shrugged. Although obviously stung and as shocked as her
campaign manager, she tried to brush the whole thing off.

“Maybe
I should have married and settled down like my opponent,” she sighed. “It would
have given Hopkins one less way to demonize me.”

Lindsay
gave a mirthless laugh.

“The
implication is, of course, that there’s something wrong with me because I’m
single,” Clara continued. “He wants the voters to think that I’m possibly a
lesbian. Or that I’m a child-hating witch with a candy cottage.”

“But
do you really hate children if you eat them?”

Now
both women were laughing. It was a ridiculous ad, but both also recognized even
in this moment of comic relief that there was a serious side to the attack. Not
everyone would disagree; the rhetoric was just what the religious right
supporters had been clamoring for. This was the no-holds-barred battle cry some
fundamentalist supporters had been demanding Hopkins issue before they would
marshal their grass roots supporters to his cause.

And the other effect of the ad?
It was so over the top, so controversial
that it had already pushed talk of Hopkins’ father’s shady business dealings
from the headlines. The news media was fickle, and always went with the sexiest
topic. And an ad that looked to venerate stay-at-home moms was certainly bound
to generate hours of talk on every network.

“And
now,” Lindsay said, “all that’s left is for us workaholic spinsters to do the
opposite of what he’s doing, which is to provide balance.”

Clara
got up and walked over to the hotel bar, where she poured herself a soda water
and another for Lindsay. It was one of the things Lindsay liked so much about
Clara; she never just thought about herself, whether she was pouring a drink or
considering her stance on a political issue.

“How
hard can that be?” Clara asked. “We just put out an ad reminding people that
women have fought hard for the right to be in the workplace
and
..”

“
..and
set up another drawn out fight between homemakers and
working women that will further galvanize his supporters?” Lindsay finished for
her.

Clara
laughed and wagged a finger at her campaign manager. “Now see, Lindsay. This is
exactly why I hired you. I knew you’d push back.” She walked over and sat down
on the sofa. “So what do you have in mind?”