The live ad proved to be a brilliant strategy for the Santos campaign. The publicity that resulted eventually pressured all the major candidates to appear at the "alternative" debate using Santos' debate rules. Congressman Santos had shone at the debate, with both the pundits and the flash polls declaring him the winner by a wide margin. The Vice President had managed to stumble through the debate without embarrassing himself too badly, but several commentators had described his performance as "lackluster." Largely as a result of the debate, Santos finished third in New Hampshire, enough to keep him alive as the primary season continued.

"Theoretically, what would you think about the possibility of becoming our campaign spokesperson?" Will asked Donna over lunch a few weeks later. They were in North Carolina, getting ready for the upcoming primary there.

"Me?"

"Yeah, I mean, why not? You're pretty, you're likeable, you're great on TV – heck, even when you were fighting that stupid chicken, you were awfully cute! I think you'd be perfect."

"I don't know, Will. I get nervous in front of reporters sometimes."

"So does everyone. Anyway, I haven't made any final decisions yet, but regardless, I want to get you out in front of the media more. There's an event coming up on the 26th, 'Coffee, Cake, and Candidates'. There will be a lot of press there. The Vice President is going, and I'm sending you with him. You can help get our message out while he works the room."

Donna nodded. "Any message in particular you want me to focus on?"

"Mainly, I want you to go on the attack."

"Okay."

"The Vice President will be doing his best to project an upbeat, positive image. You'll need to do his dirty work."

Donna nodded. She knew by now that this was part of the job. "Anything specific that you want me to hit Hoynes on?"

"That he's untrustworthy. If you can manage to work in references to his infidelity without actually saying it, that's great. Heck, if you think you can get away with it, go ahead and say it. It's his biggest Achilles heel."

"Right."

"And not just Hoynes. I want you to go after Santos. No one's taking him seriously enough to attack him, so he's been getting nothing but positive press."

"Does this mean you're starting to take him seriously?"

"I don't know." Will shrugged. "I mean, I still don't see how he has a realistic shot at the nomination, but with him winning Arizona and New Mexico…every time I think his campaign is over, he manages to bring it back from the dead. And people like him. Hell, I like him."

"I've always liked him," Donna grinned. "I mean, not as much as Bingo Bob, of course, but-"

"Donna!"

"Just kidding."

"Anyway," Will continued, "I don't want to take any chances. I want him out of the race as soon as possible. And that's not going to happen until he stops getting a free ride from the press."

Donna nodded. "Trash Hoynes and trash Santos. Got it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So what should I be expecting from this event?" The Vice President asked Donna as they rode together in the motorcade toward the "Coffee, Cake, and Candidates" forum. "I mean, other than the fact that I assume there will be coffee cake. And candidates."

"Coffee and cake," Donna corrected him.

"Huh?"

"The name of the event is Coffee, Cake, and Candidates. With a comma between 'coffee' and 'cake'."

"Oh."

"There will be a lot of press there. And about 300 voters are expected to be in attendance. You'll be spending most of your time talking to them. I'll work the media."

"Sounds good."

"Speaking of which," Donna began, "I've been trying to think of some good barbs to give to the press. How does this sound: Matt Santos claiming three House terms qualifies him to be President is like me saying I'm a foreign relations expert because I ordered Kung Pao last night."

The Vice President laughed. "I love it. Now I just have to work on combating my 'dull' image."

"I'm sure you'll do great."

"The best way to combat that kind of image is to show you have a sense of humor, that you can laugh at yourself," he told her. "Do you think people here will have heard my joke about the Vice Presidential Seal?"

"Sir, with all due respect, I think everyone has heard that joke by now."

The motorcade stopped at the entrance to the event, and Donna and the Vice President got out and walked into the room. It was a rather simple set-up, a large room filled with round tables. A buffet lined one wall, with offerings of fruit, muffins, cookies, nuts, cheese and crackers, and of course, several varieties of cake, as well as coffee dispensers. Numerous television and newspaper reporters were on the scene, along with the members of the public who had stood in line for free tickets. The candidates would each be giving a short speech later on, but the main purpose of the event was to give members the public a chance to interact with the candidates one-on-one.

Donna began reflexively scanning the room. It wasn't long before she spotted Matt Santos sitting at a table, engaged in what looked like an animated conversation with several voters. If Santos is here…

Yep. It only took her another moment to spot Josh, speaking with a newspaper columnist several feet away from the congressman.

"You're from the Russell campaign, right?" a television reporter came up to her, microphone in hand.

"Yes. My name is Donna Moss," she smiled at the camera.

"What do you think of this event so far?"

"Oh, it's wonderful. Vice President Russell is so excited to be able to be here and meet voters one on one, and chat with them over some great refreshments about the issues that are important to their lives."

"Are you surprised that the Vice President hasn't locked up the nomination yet? Sitting Vice Presidents usually go into their primaries as practically the presumptive nominees of their party."

"It's still early in the process. We aren't even to Super Tuesday yet. But we are absolutely confident that Vice President Russell will be the Democratic nominee, and will be the next President of the United States."

"Polls show former Vice President John Hoynes favored here in North Carolina."

"The fact that he's the former Vice President should tell you something."

"Are you suggesting that the circumstances under which he left office should disqualify him from becoming President?"

"No, of course he has every right to run. And voters will make their decision. But I think a lot of people will, with good reason, be very hesitant to vote for someone who has shown such a lack of trustworthiness."

"And what about Matt Santos? A lot of people are surprised at the way he seems to have beaten expectations. No one gave him much of a chance at first, but here he is, still in the race."

"Matt Santos strikes me as a very nice man who has nowhere near the experience necessary to be leader of the free world."

"He's served three terms in the House of Representatives."

Yes. They'd given her a perfect opening to use her line. "Claiming three House terms qualifies you to be President is like me saying I'm a foreign relations expert because I ordered Kung Pao last night."

"He also served in the US Marines. Do you think that gives him strength in the area of national defense?"

"He wasn't a military strategist, he was a pilot. Ask him about the overhead compartment, not about defense."

She hadn't rehearsed that last line. It had just come out. She felt a knot in her stomach, sensing instantly that she'd gone too far. From the way the reporter's jaw dropped, it was clear she thought so also.

"The overhead compartment? Ms. Moss, would you like to clarify-"

"Thank you. That's all." Donna quickly ended the interview, fearful of doing any more damage. She turned and began to walk in the other direction, but froze in her tracks when she saw Josh staring at her. She could tell he'd heard her exchange with the reporter. He looked horrified.

"What happened to you?" he muttered coldly as he walked past her. She felt her face start to turn red.

"Josh-" she turned and caught up with him.

"Forget it."

"What happened to me?" She stepped in front of him so he'd have to stop walking and look at her. She did her best to keep her voice down and not look upset, so as not to attract the attention of any of the media in the room. "Well, I don't know, could it be that I'm working on a Presidential campaign now? I'd love to be the sweet, innocent little Donna who answered your phones and did your typing, but this is politics, and as you've told me more times than I can count, it's a dirty business and you sometimes have to go negative."

"Not by attacking your opponent's military service, Donna."

"I didn't-"

"Yeah, whatever." With that, he turned and walked away.

Donna started shaking. She turned and walked as quickly as she could to the women's restroom, managing to get into a stall and close the door before the tears started running down her face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Any hope Donna may have had that her remark would blow over and go unnoticed by the media was dashed when she and the Vice President watched coverage of the event from the small television screen in their limo on the ride back to campaign headquarters.

"A bit of controversy is brewing here today over remarks by Russell campaign aide Donna Moss, which many are interpreting as belittling the military service of candidate Matt Santos."

She cringed as they played the footage of her making the incriminating remarks.

"Mr. Vice President, I'm so sorry," Donna groaned.

"I'm not." He sounded upbeat.

She looked up at him in surprise. "You're not?"

"You did your job. You've gotten people talking about whether Matt Santos has enough experience to be President."

"Yeah, and I also managed to highlight his military background for every voter in the country."

"Well, that's also true," the Vice President conceded with a grimace.

They turned their attention back to the television. Matt Santos was now being interviewed.

"Congressman Santos, do you have a reaction to the remarks today by Donna Moss of the Russell campaign regarding your military experience?"

"I haven't heard the remarks, so no, I don't."

"She said, and I quote: 'He wasn't a military strategist, he was a pilot. Ask him about the overhead compartment, not about defense.'"

"That's clever," he said with a smile and no hint of sarcasm.

"You're not offended, as a Marine?"

"Look, I have nothing but respect for all the candidates in the Democratic field. And with the critical issues facing the country – our education crisis, health care, national security – I don't have time to get offended by stuff like this."

"Good answer," Donna muttered in dismay. She supposed it was wrong of her to have hoped Santos would trash her on television, preventing him from being seen as taking the high road. In sharp contrast to the low road she had taken.

"Yeah, I'll give him that," the Vice President nodded.

The motorcade pulled up in front of the campaign headquarters. As they got out, she saw Will striding toward them, holding a piece of paper.

"Don't worry, I'm going to issue an apology right away," Donna told him before he could say a word.

"No. Don't."

"Don't apologize?" She looked at him in surprise.

"Absolutely not," he told her as they walked together into the headquarters.

"Will, the campaign can't be seen as disrespecting military service."

"We're not going to be intimidated. We're not going to act like typical Democrats on this one."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know why Democrats have such a knack for losing elections? Because we cower at the first hint of controversy. We say something hard-hitting and we get attacked for it – or half the time we get a bunch of phony outrage thrown at us over something we didn't even say – and then, rather than stand our ground, we go on the defensive, issue apologies and clarifications, and beg people 'please don't be mad at us.' No, we're going to act like Republicans. We're going on offense."

"What are we going to do?"

"Here's the statement I'm faxing to the press." He handed her the paper he was holding, which read:

It is outrageous for the Santos campaign to twist Donna Moss's words in order to smear both her and the Vice President by suggesting that they have anything but the deepest of respect and admiration for all members of our armed forces. This is not about military service. Matt Santos is running for President, and voters have every right to question whether or not he's qualified to serve as Commander in Chief.

"This story isn't coming from the Santos campaign," Donna objected. "The media ran with it all on their own."

"We blame Santos for it anyway. No one's very likely to call us on it, and if they do, we just say we believe the Santos campaign is pushing the story behind the scenes."

"Do we believe that?"

"Who knows? It's entirely possible."

"Will, this isn't right. People thought my remarks were out of line because they were out of line. We don't need to spin this. I'll issue an apology, and it'll be a one-day story."

"We go on the counterattack, and we might actually gain ground as a result of this."

She stopped walking and turned to look at him, holding up the paper. "I don't want to issue this statement, Will. What I said was wrong. It wasn't Matt Santos' fault, or the media's fault, it was my fault. I want to do the decent thing and apologize."

Will took the paper from her. "Donna, I don't put my foot down very often, but I'm the campaign manager, not you, and what I say goes. You're not apologizing, and that's it. This statement is going out to the press right now."

Donna knew when it was pointless to argue any further. She sighed and changed the subject. "Well, I guess there go my chances of becoming campaign spokesperson, huh?"

"Not at all." Will shook his head. "I mean, we probably wouldn't make it official until this dies down, and I'm still considering some other roles for you also. But you did exactly what I asked today, Donna. My main hesitation with making you our spokesperson was that I wasn't sure you could be mean enough. Now I know you can be."

"Great," Donna muttered. She knew Will had meant that as a compliment, but somehow it didn't feel like one.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What do you think the fallout will be for the Russell campaign from – I don't know, can we call it overhead compartment-gate?" The CNN anchor asked his guest, someone who had the title of "political strategist."

"Overhead compartment-gate," Donna muttered, taking some Advil and laying down on her hotel bed late that evening.

"It's hard to say," the strategist responded. "They certainly went on offense tonight with their statement blaming the Santos campaign for the whole controversy. If this were an isolated incident, it might blow over. But there is a perception by many that the Russell campaign is becoming extraordinarily negative, much more than is usually considered acceptable in a primary campaign. You'll remember, in New Hampshire they had an ad that all but questioned John Hoynes' loyalty to the United States. And these are fellow Democrats they're saying these things about. It certainly could have the potential to alienate a lot of voters."

"And almost going unnoticed in this," the anchor commented, "is Donna Moss's other remark, suggesting that three terms in the House of Representatives would no more prepare a person to be President than ordering Kung Pao chicken would prepare someone to be a foreign relations expert. Are you surprised that isn't generating more controversy? Is it just because it was overshadowed by the other remark?"

"I think so," the strategist responded. "And, well, I guess insulting members of congress isn't as offensive to most people as insulting military personnel."

The anchor laughed. "Well, I'm sure you're right about that."

Donna turned off the TV. She couldn't take any more of the talking heads, at least not tonight. She wasn't proud of what she'd said, but she was even more frustrated with her own campaign's reaction. What would be so wrong with a simple apology? But no, both Will and the Vice President seemed almost happy about her "gaffe".

And Josh – the look on his face after he'd heard her remarks haunted her. It wasn't anger – she could handle Josh being angry. It was disappointment, almost grief. She was sure his opinion of her had dropped, and that broke her heart.

What right does he have to judge me, anyway? She felt a twinge of anger. It's not like he's Mister Clean Campaigner himself. How many hardball political moves has he pulled over the years? So it's okay for him, but not for anyone else?

"I hate politics," she muttered aloud. As she closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep, it occurred to her that the only person whose behavior that day had been the least bit classy was Matt Santos.