Sussex rd

CHAPTER 1: Election Night

CHAPTER 1: Election Night

Pan Pacific Hotel, Vancouver, BC

The afternoon sun hung high over the horizon as the entire city was alive with excitement over the Federal election this day. The end of the campaign for a new Parliament and a potential new Prime Minister had all of Canada fired up. The culmination of the 30-day campaign had arrived after a seemingly non-stop amount of whistle stops, debates and interviews across the nation. And for Jordan Innis, the next few hours would determine her political future.

Jordan clutched at her chest and took in deep breaths as she tried to will away the sense of dread she was feeling. The election was soon to be out of her hands, and there was nothing to do but wait as the polls slowly closed across the country. Her body trembled as the adrenalin continued to surge within her veins, not giving her a moment’s peace. As the one who normally called the shots, she did not like the feeling that she was not in control of her fate. It now lay in the hands of the voters, the price she was paying for her candidacy.

She shuffled papers and mindlessly rearranged items on the desk she was using in the conference room the Party set up as their “Election War Room.” It was something for her to do as they waited out the election results. Anything to avoid the issue in front of her. The final polling results showed a dead heat. Did she dare to imagine becoming the next Prime Minister of Canada? Would her very thoughts jinx her chances?

From one side of the room, a voice rang out, “Atlantic Provinces polls closing in 10 minutes!” At once the group of staff responsible of monitoring the results sprang into action.

On the wall above one of the giant windows overlooking the Fraser River, a huge layout of the House of Commons was projected on a screen with color-coded dots for each of the major Parties running. As each result came in, a dot was placed on one of the seats on the diagram. By the time the polls closed out in the West, they would have a good idea of who would be able to claim victory.

“Five Minutes to Atlantic Provinces poll closings!” Davic announced. He started to clap his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright people, this is it, from here on out, we’re focused on the task at hand, getting every count accurate, verifying each result in every poll and making sure our press surrogates STAY ON MESSAGE! Now let’s make this a great night for the Party and put Jordan into Sussex Road!”

The party staff sent up a loud roar of approval as the room erupted in a cacophony of people dialing phones, talking to party officials back East and crunching poll numbers. Jordan watched from the other side of the room and smiled, but in her head, the doubts persisted.

She understood that she was a relatively unknown quantity being young in her 30’s. It did not help and just coming off a party leadership race. There had been mistakes during the campaign; some she acknowledged to herself were of her own making and others that would be attributed to her campaign. Was she going to pay for them?

There was always the chance that the voters would stick with the devil they knew instead of giving her the opportunity; someone with fresh ideas and renewed enthusiasm to lead the country from its present state of affairs into a new future. Did the voters see her as too young, too inexperienced. Was she just another pretty face to the voters? But despite all of her reassurances, one thing stayed in her head, “What are they going to do when they find out about him?”

The sound of an irritating ringtone invaded her thoughts. Davic Woods, her personal assistant and confidant, leaped out of his chair and dived for the offending device. Jordan watched as the tall blond paced the floor as he talked to Party representatives from the Maritimes. The long night had begun.

It would be hours before the polls in the western provinces closed. If the pollsters were correct, the results of the election would not be known until the next day. Unless… If the results could be predicted with any accuracy by the time the Ontario votes were counted that was a bad sign. A hotly contested election was her best case scenario. It was one thing to maintain hope, but her rational side had already set up her expectations to reside in Stornoway, the residence of the official opposition.

Davic finished his call. As tired as he knew he was, he tuned into the local television channel for the election coverage. A gaggle of reporters filled the air-time constantly speculating on the results as they waited for the votes to be counted.

“Jordan, relax and get some rest so you’re fresh for your victory speech, “said Davic, ever the optimist. “You may want to go to your hotel room” He said looking up at the tall redhead from his seat.

Jordan was aware of the irony. The dark circles under his eyes said it all. She could not recall the last time when her closest ally and friend had had any proper sleep. There had been a flurry of last-minute activity to get out the vote, while Davic, along with the entire campaign staff, had worked non-stop. It was not unusual to arrive at the office to find Davic slumped over his computer fast asleep after dropping off in mid-sentence on her latest speech or some analytics program.

“Dav...” She started in her mother hen tone.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about sleeping once we’re in 24 Sussex, and not before then. And don’t even think about sending me on vacation; that would kill me.” He was only half-joking, but such was the level of effort Davic put into everything he did. He seemed incapable of moderation. It was all or nothing with that man.

“And I promise to drop the media embargo on Rigo, but only after I finish checking the polls,” he said, attempting to negotiate with the boss.

Jordan smiled. In her mind, though, she thought to herself, who was the boss here? Yes, officially he was her personal aide, but he operated more as her business partner. She knew only too well she would not be here today, poised to take the reins of government as the highest elected official in Canada, if it weren’t for the efforts of her good and loyal friend. He made it his life’s work to get her this far, and she realized he was owed more than she could ever repay.

He was still an enigma to her. Why would anyone want to devote so much of their life to her? He could have easily been a big wig at some tech firm or an executive at a fortune 500 company. Why any rational person would choose this as their life was something she wondered. She knew he had received other job offers, ones that paid far more than she could ever pay him. He always turned them down. She reminded herself not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Davic turned her attention back to the newscast; the anchors finally had some results to discuss. Jordan realized she was holding her breath and squeezing Davic’s hand to the point where he was making a face trying not to show his discomfort.

The numbers were trickling in. Jordan felt every little victory when her party's candidate held the lead in a given electoral riding. She also felt the sheer terror when that lead was lost or it became apparent that the Member of Parliament for a riding was not going to be in her Caucus.

Davic’s infernal device, his Blackberry, went off again, the shrill notes of the ringtone causing him to jump out of the seat like he’d been hit with 50 volts on the butt. One of the candidates who had been declared for a seat was calling. Davic handed over the Phone and Jordan happily chatted to her first Victorious Colleague.

A list of names and numbers was left in a prominent place for her to call. Davic sat down at a computer to look over the results and cross check them with the models he had produced. His head started to nod. He managed to catch himself before his forehead made contact with the keyboard. Startled he got up and walked over to get another cup of coffee. He knew he was way over the recommended limit for caffeine intake. He just had to get through tonight then he would deal with the consequences later, if his heart did not give out first.

She knew this inability to just relax was going to kill him one day. The statistics were he would likely drop dead of a heart attack or a stroke at his desk. She was taking full advantage of leading him to his demise. She felt guilt being an accomplice to this. After tonight he could rest and recuperate. She had made a promise to herself to look after him. He had practically become family. He was like a brother to her.

Her hands were shaking from the emotions surging through her as she watched the returns come in. The numbers scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Each poll in each of the 338 ridings announcing its results. “We’re still in for a long night, huh?” she asked.

“As long as Mayerson doesn't take all of the votes in Toronto, aka, the center of the universe, we are still in the game. The west is our base.” He replied looking over a spreadsheet “We need Pagent to take most of the Toronto ridings.” he muttered going back to his laptop. He was squinting at his screen intensely. Mathematically he knew she should win. She was the best looking of the leaders. He had made sure she had appeared single just to get that male vote. Most people did not vote for rational reasons. He worried his computer models may be off due to the irrationality of humanity.

“Oh!! Right! How is our seat count coming versus our projections?” Jordan asked of Davic.

Davic squinted scanning his data set. He shook his head “still too close to tell anything. At any rate we are not out of it yet.”

She returned to the feeling of terror. The emotional rollercoaster was getting exhausting. One moment she could see the numbers going her way, the next was sheer fear of losing everything she had worked for.

Jordan’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and looked at it, and smiled. “I’m going up to my room, I’ll be back in a few minutes, I want to recharge the batteries for later tonight.”

As she walked off, Davic, not looking up from the spreadsheet, replied, “sure thing, Jor. If we need you sooner, I’ll come get you.” He turned back to the spreadsheet and then took another call.

Jordan made her way to the elevator and rode up to the hotel suite she booked for the last couple of days. She slid the keycard across the reader and the door unlocked with a click. She entered the room, slightly glowing from the sunlight reflecting through the large window. The TV was on in the room, tuned to a baseball game going on down in Seattle. Against one side of the window, the silhouette of a man seated in one of the chairs could barely be seen.

“I was wondering when you were going to pull yourself away from the fracas down there,” the man said in a telltale Californian accent. He stood up from the chair, revealing a frame that would have looked in place on a football gridiron, but also matched Jordan’s height. She smiled and stepped into his embrace. “Hi honey, I was hoping you were in here, how long have you been waiting?”

“I got in about 45 minutes ago, did like you told me, handed them your note to have me let into the room,” The man could not stop his hands from running through her cupreous hair. He unpinned the bun she had worn all day and brought the metallic locks to his face. The scent of her hair heightened the emotional attachment.

Her green eyes looked into his dark coffee brown ones. The freckles had become lighter and fewer but he loved every one of those spots and the way they lit up when she smiled. “Well, even if I lose this election, I know I already won today.” He smiled and kissed her softly, “Oh yeah? How so?” he asked her.

She gently pushed him back down to the chair and sat across his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, “No matter if I end up Prime Minister, or even voted out of my seat in Parliament, we have each other for the rest of our lives, my husband.” His hands stroked her slowly, “That’s true, but honestly, I still can’t believe we managed to pull off the wedding without ANYONE in the press finding out about it.”

She smiled and laughed, “Well, thank your brother-in-law for the idea of using a video link to Reverend Pancero back in LA.” Jordan’s sister was married to a one-time American Soap Opera star that now enjoyed his retirement in Vancouver. A few favors called in to the clergy who married him and his wife and a good video link made for a unique marriage ceremony. He responded with a long, slow kiss.

This was the first time since the wedding ceremony they had a chance to be alone together. Since that day two weeks ago, she was hop-scotching across the Provinces, campaigning on behalf of her party’s candidates, while Rigo had to return to work covering two open-wheeled races. All those nights while they were apart, he thought about the details of her face. Her kiss was soft and gentle. His heart wanted to leap out of his body to be with hers. How did he get this mythical creature to fall for him? He knew he did not deserve her and she was way beyond his league.

Her pale skin kissed with almost unnoticeable freckles from a childhood of outdoor adventures. It was a connect the dot puzzle to happiness. Rigo let his fingers trace the route removing the fabric in the way. He did not see the scars on her knees as a flaw. She was an active child. She had collected her share of mementos in the form of injuries. Rigo knew all the stories of how they etched the events on her form. The one he was currently tracing was from getting kicked by a horse she had been training. Her life was so far from the one he lived. Rigo knew very little of farms. He swore he could smell the sunshine and warm summer days in her scent.

He laid her out on the bed and reacquainted himself with her familiar curves. As the sun began to set outside the window into the western horizon, Jordan’s phone began to ring, the concession calls from the party leaders in the Eastern Provinces. She lay nude next to Rigo, conducting her phone calls. If only the people on the other end of the line knew. He was sure it would soften the blow of their defeats.

At one point, she rose from the bed and started to pace as she spoke. Rigo’s eyes were watching the beautiful form of his wife walk about while on the phone. It was engrossing. She took the chance to tease him striking a pose when she got the chance. Every so often she would manage to stop by for a cuddle and a hug. Rigo would stroke her now tangled hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent.

A knock came on the door “Jor, you awake?”

Rigo sighed in frustration as the time they had together was coming to a close again. He got up and went for the bathrobes hanging on the door inside the suite’s bathroom. Jordan let Davic in. Davic had the courtesy to politely avert his eyes. Jordan did not seem to care as she continued her conversation.

“Jor, your robe,” Davic politely reminded his boss.

Jordan laughed “Oh come on, it isn't like you haven't had to help me get changed.” She joked, while donning her robe, seeing how many shades of red he would turn. Rigo on the other hand was turning a few shades darker for another reason.

“Well, Madame Prime Minister-Elect, as my calculations goes and if there are no major upsets, you are going to be living in 24 Sussex Drive. I’m just not sure if it is a majority or minority yet.” Davic’s beaming smile was contagious. The two of them did a little celebratory dance.

She looked at her husband, who was beaming with pride and she melted into his chest. “We did it, love, can you believe it?” “I told you that you’d come through, babe.” She turned back to her aide to see him stifle a yawn.

“I thought I told you to go take a nap” Jordan scolded.

“You know I am all about the Non-aggression pact, NAP.” The thin man joked. Jordan rolled her eyes at the policy wonk joke. She ended up laughing at it anyways in the excitement of the news of being the Prime Minister of Canada.

“Jordan, we’re going to need you for some face to face in about 20 minutes.” She sighed and nodded, “Okay, then I better have a shower before that happens, Rigo, be nice to Davic, things are going to get a lot more complicated soon. We are going to need his support.”

The two stood with their eyes locked on each other like a pair of gunslingers in an Old West movie about to draw on one another. They were by no means friends, but they weren’t enemies either. They each represented a different side to Jordan. Davic, was part of her public persona, the tough but fair politician who was trying to lead Canada further into the modern world. Rigo, on the other hand, represented her private side. Literally, the side no one knew.

Davic sat down on the edge of the bed, “You’ll have to make sure that Jordan’s things are packed as well as whatever furniture she was to bring with her to Sussex.” He let out a long exhaling breath, “Whew, this has been a long day.” He said out loud, to no one in particular.

“All right, fine, I guess I better pull something to wear for the victory party, right D?” There was no response except for what sounded like a light snore. He looked over and sure enough, Davic had nodded off.

He looked like he belonged in a cancer ward. His cheeks seemed hollow and he had lost weight. The weight of the campaign and the election had finally caught up to Jordan’s political Energizer Bunny. The man’s energy cells had depleted completely and he was passed out on the bed.

The realization of where he lay suddenly caught Rigo and he started to laugh quietly. He made a mental note to ask Jordan to send Davic on a vacation to Mexico or somewhere. It would give him a chance to recover and would give them some alone time without worrying that he may disturb them.

The phone in Davic’s hand started vibrating and just as quickly as he had fallen asleep leapt to his feet, fully awake. It took a moment for him to figure out that it was a text not a call and quickly responded. He blushed and walked to the closet and started picking out clothes for Jordan. Rigo went back into the living room area to get something to drink from the minibar. As he walked back into the bedroom he saw Davic getting a scuff out of one of Jordan’s shoes. He took a swig from the bottle as Davic put the shoe down and handed him something.

“This is her wedding ring and a bottle of sparkling pomegranate juice. Romantic gestures will go a long way on a day when her whole country is judging her. I have taken the liberty of getting you a nice suit; it’s laid out on the bed.”

The shower stopped as Rigo looked over the suit, getting dressed slowly as Davic walked into the living room area and sat down, absorbed in his phone once more. Jordan came out in the robe with a towel around her head, smiling as she started dressing. “You want me to head down right away or wait for Davic to get me?” Rigo asked.

Jordan slipped on her bra and had Rigo hook it up for her, “Let Davic come get you, that way you’ll be on the side of the dais where I can see you.”

He shouted to the other room, “You hear that, D? No forgetting me, hear?” the only response was a grunt. “I’ll take that as a yes, you ready?” She looked into his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. By the way, thank you.” She gave him a kiss as she left the privacy of the hotel room.

***

The sun was below the horizon, bathing the ballroom in an ethereal glow of warm hues. The room was starting to fill with excitement. The members of the campaign’s press corps that had been on the campaign trail with Jordan walked down to the ballroom in the hotel. More importantly to most of the attendees, the bar was open and the drinks were flowing.

On the walls of the ball room opposite the windows, giant video screens showed not only the Election night feed from the CBC but also the parliamentary graphic of the breakdown in seats. Jordan’s party had managed to show a projected majority once the polls were counted in Alberta. It remained to be seen as the polls closed on the West Coast how much of a majority they would hold, or if they would need to form a coalition to rule. It was clear the Bloc would never even entertain a coalition proposal. There was no mathematical way the two other parties could collectively match or exceed her numbers.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if you’ll just be patient, when we hear the tallies from the Yukon Territory, we’ll hear from the Prime Minister-Elect,” the local party chairman announced at the podium. “We want to thank everyone who turned out for the election tonight, all our volunteers and of course, a huge thank you for putting Jordan Innis not only into Parliament as our MP, but also making her our next Prime Minister!”

The crowd roared at the speaker’s words. As he spoke, the screen showing the feed from CBC switched to showing the Ballroom from the back of the room. A roar of adulation went up as the attendees saw themselves on TV. This meant only one thing, it was time for the new Prime Minister to accept her win and announce her plans for leading the country.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s my extreme pleasure to introduce the Prime Minister Elect, Jordan Innis!” Jordan stepped to the podium. The lights prevented her from seeing anything more than the teleprompter. The noise told her all she needed to know about the size of the crowd. She smiled waiting for the boisterous roar to die down. She smiled as she looked to the side of the room, seeing both Rigo and Davic standing there. It was time.

“I would first like to thank everyone who ran in this election. We all know what a daunting task it is. Anyone who runs does it because they want to make Canada a better place. Let's hear it for them,” allowing the crowd a polite applause

“The voters have spoken; A Canadian is a Canadian is a Canadian…” The crowd erupted at the sound bite. “There are no longer hyphenated Canadians with different laws and rules for each group. Retribution is not how we correct historical wrongs, Equal opportunity is.” She paused allowing the crowd to participate.

“We are a tolerant country, but we only tolerate those who tolerate us. I am not going to force respect but I will expect others to be treated how you wish to be treated. Those who cannot see this are not welcome in our society.” This policy point was once again punctuated by the crowd.

“The individual owns themselves; they are not collateral for loans from the IMF. Any surpluses are going to be used to pay down the principle and lowering the debt that has been loaded on future generations. The voters have seen through the “something for nothing” proposals and realize they are being bought with their own money.”

“The truth is, not every Canadian voted for us and our ideals, we must keep this in mind when we draft our legislation. What we do is for all Canadians.”

She had finished the televised portion of her speech. The media pundits were now giving their take on what she had said. She started by thanking the volunteers and candidates.

“I need to make mention of the man who has been my rock throughout all of this. Without him by my side I don’t know how I could contemplate taking on such a monumental task without him.” Jordan paused, Davic beamed with a slight blush.

“I would like to ask him to come up on stage. I would like to introduce my husband, Rigo Barbosa.” she said turning to the wings of the stage where she knew he was standing.

Rigo was watching the sudden ashen color come over Davic. Rigo steadied the man “You ok?” he asked.

It took a second for the sallow faced man to regain his balance “She is calling you get out there.” Davic insisted gesturing Rigo towards the podium.

Rigo walked out joining his wife in the public eye for the first time. As the balloons fell and the crowd cheered he swept her up in a kiss. All of Canada just met the new First Spouse, and the introductions were just the beginning.

***

The scripted part of the event was over, Davic suddenly found himself without anything to do. For the first time in days, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, finally letting himself relax. He took a glass of champagne from one of the catering staff walking around the ballroom with them for the celebrants. He shook hands with a few of the senior party officials as they congratulated his work on the campaign.

The exhausted staffer found a chair and sat down, taking a deep hit off his drink, letting himself relax even more. It wasn’t long before the glass was empty and Davic was falling into a sound slumber only the truly exhausted could manage. The celebration went on without him. He never liked the meaningless chit-chat anyway; it seemed like a waste of time.

About a half hour later, one of the party operatives who had worked in the hotel the last few days approached the sleeping Davic, concerned that he had done more than fall asleep. Elissa Chang was relatively new to the campaign and the main party staff. Recently graduated from University, she wanted to take a step into the world of public service by signing on as campaign staff, with the hopes of turning it into a position with the Prime Minister’s staff.

She was very familiar with Davic’s position and the man’s work ethic around the campaign, especially in the last few days of the election. How he kept going without a break from the start of the leadership race through to the election? It was the talk of many tongues in and outside of the party. There was speculation that his health was failing, that the campaign was literally killing him. There was no one who could fill his shoes, particularly during the middle of the campaign. He was not a personable person; his only interest was in getting the job done right, by winning the election. The only way she knew him was by his work and reputation.

“Mr. Woods, Sir? Are you alright?”

There was no reaction as she lightly touched his shoulder. The empty champagne flute in his hand dropped to the floor. The worst thoughts raced through her head. She went flush with fear that he was dead. She took her fingers and felt for a pulse but was relieved when she felt a steady one. Her fears were quashed as he took a deep breath and yawned like an old tabby stretched out in a sunbeam. She shook him gently to try to rouse him more, but he swatted at her hand, mumbling something incoherent.

She looked for someone to help check on him, but she could see that the Prime Minister-elect was occupied with speaking with some of the other senior campaign staff, probably laying out who she wanted where in her government. Elissa knew not to ruin it for Jordan. Mr. Woods was not part of the Party family. Everyone respected him for the skills he brought but beyond work they did not know him.

Elissa’s eyes settled on Rigo. He was the husband to the Prime Minister-elect. It had been a shock learning she had one. She knew several party staffers had their dreams dashed in that moment he walked on to the stage with her. Everyone had assumed she was single. Had anyone asked her if she was married?

“Excuse me, you are Prime Minister Innis’ husband right?” she asked the handsome well-built man. She was curious who he was as a person. He had to be someone interesting at the very least.

“Yes, I am,” Rigo said proudly

“I am Elissa Chang, I’m one of the staffers here for the last few days,” she said as she surveyed the other members of the Party milling about.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Chang, what can I do for you?”

She pointed over to Davic, still slumped over in the chair, “I was wondering if you could help me with Mr. Woods. He’s passed out and I was concerned that people might think he’s dead or something.“

Rigo looked over and chuckled, “well, well, so the battery finally ran out on the Energizer Bunny.”

“The Party owes Mr. Woods a great deal. The least we could do for him is to get him to bed,” she said motioning to Davic, still sound asleep despite the loud music and chatter.

“I assume you know what room he is staying in?”

He paused a moment, “Come to think of it, I don’t, but I can go ask at the front desk. Keep an eye on him, okay?” Rigo headed to the lobby, quietly passing through the crowd who was more occupied with celebrating his wife’s victory than wondering where he was going. It took about five minutes to get his room number from a very friendly staffer at the front desk.

“Okay, let’s get Sleeping Beauty up to his bed. Not sure when Prince Charming is going to wake him, though,” he quipped as he put Davic’s BlackBerry into his coat pocket. Rigo helped Davic to his feet, he was surprised that he was a lot lighter then he looked. It took a few minutes for both Elissa and Rigo to get Davic to the elevator then up to his room.

He rummaged through Davic’s pockets and found the room key. Elissa opened the door. He helped the still half-conscious Davic inside. Elissa under one of the slender man's arms Rigo under the other.

He sat Davic on the bed and helped him out of his blazer. Rigo looked around the room. There were several computers set up. His suits were neatly hung in the closest. On the end table there was a small picture frame face down. He turned the picture face up.

It was a happy family. The father could easily be Davic without the bags under his eyes. A little boy the spitting image of the father sat on his knee. The ice blue eyes glinting with a smile. The wife was also blond and she held a little girl with chestnut hair in pigtails.

“I thought he was single,” he muttered as he put the photo back in its place. He felt somehow better knowing Davic had a family somewhere.

“Mr. Barbosa, can you help me with his shirt?” Elissa asked. Davic’s hands were clumsy as he pulled at the buttons on his shirt.

Rigo came over and helped her undress the blond man. The pale skin showed his ribs easily. He was on his way to being the emaciated picture you see associated with human suffering. Elissa and Rigo looked at each other with concern.

They finished tucking him into the bed and left in silence. Rigo pondered what he knew about the other man in his wife's life. He had always just been there; an annoyance or an obstacle. Rigo finally connected the concept of human to the bag of bones.

“Thanks for your help, Elissa; I’ll make sure that someone sees you’re rewarded for your quick thinking.” She smiled at his promise, not entirely sure how he’d be able to keep it, but she chalked it up as a positive anyway. The Prime Minister’s husband knew who she was; it was a foot in the big door.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Barbosa, it was nice meeting you.” She smiled and melted into the crowd. Rigo chuckled a moment, thinking to himself how she’d make a great editorial assistant if he had needed one. He wandered back into the party, making a beeline for his wife’s location.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the party finally began to die down. The few remaining celebrants were starting to depart as Rigo was finally alone with the love of his life. He put his arms around her and kissed her softly, “So, ready to call it a night, Madame Prime Minister-Elect?”

Jordan smiled, “Yeah, I am. We’ve got a long couple of days ahead of us, and you’re going to need to start getting our things packed for the move to Ottawa. You sure your editor is okay with this move?”

He put his arm around his wife’s waist as they walked into the elevator, “Mike understands that I really have no option in this, I’m not going to be staying behind so I can continue to do the circuit. I told him that when we decided to get married. I knew that regardless of whether you became Prime Minister or not, I’d be making the move with you, that’s where I need to be, so he’s working out the logistics with management.”

She nodded, “Okay, love. I understand.” They exited the elevator and returned to the suite. Once they were inside, he let her know about Davic.

“We need to do something about D, babe,” he said as he undid the zipper on her dress. “He passed out tonight after one glass of champagne, seriously, has he been skipping meals or something? He looks like he’s survived a concentration camp.”

Jordan sighed as she stepped out of her dress “He needs someone to look after him. He made me Prime Minister, he’s like a political savant.” She took a nightgown from the dresser and slipped into the bathroom to take off her make up. When she returned she continued her defense of him.

“I know he’s wonderful at the political game but he’s definitely lacking in other areas. I need to live up to my end of the deal.” She was beginning to realize the costs this victory came with, first and foremost, her aide’s health.

“You should let your people know to see that one of your staffers is rewarded for her quick thinking. A young girl named Elissa or Elissia or something like that, she let me know he had passed out and was worried he had died in the ballroom. Now THAT would have been bad.”

“I would not put it past Dav to work himself to death. He seems intent on it,” she quipped. Rigo had already shed his suit and slipped into his sleeping shorts as she sat on the edge. “Well, at least Myerson can’t use that against me, she’d have a field day saying I work my staff to death, literally.”

Rigo chuckled at the thought, “of course, you could counter by saying that Davic believed in your message so much he literally gave his life for it. Martyrdom is a hard thing to kill, so to speak,” he said.

Jordan could not help but laugh “we are so bad,” as she pulled back the covers and got into bed. “He has done this before and I will talk to him again about it. He just gets caught up in what he is doing and forgets to eat and sleep.”

She kissed him on the nose, “We’ll talk to him in the morning. Now just hold me until I fall asleep, I’ve missed us for too long.”

Jordan paused before closing her eyes. She wanted to remember this feeling. She drifted to sleep knowing she had just made her indelible mark on the world. No matter what school text books would list her name as a Canadian Prime Minister.