litigators who sat on the committee had media pundits wondering aloud how Callie would hold up against their intense rounds of questioning. Mike Ferguson knew better and couldn’t help but feel bad for the Senators sitting in front of her. As he thought about the long day they had ahead of them, the trace of a smile began to form on his face.
Two
Friday, July 15, 2011-Two Weeks Earlier
The anticipated arrival of the Congressional summer recess in D.C. was Callie Wheeler’s favorite time of the year. Cherry blossoms had all but vanished off the trees and the humidity that plagued the population during the summer months had been dormant. Congress was four weeks away from its annual summer vacation. As the most successful lobbyist in Washington, Callie savored the relative peace and quiet their departures granted her, if only for a few days. She had hoped to use the time to get away for some well-earned R&R with her fiance’, but she learned long ago: wishful thinking had no place when her boss was concerned. Under that cloud, Callie Wheeler sat in the conference room at the Law Offices of Miller & Gladstone, awaiting her turn to speak.
Miller and Gladstone had once been and was again, the top lobbying firm in Washington D.C. Better known on K Street as M&G, the firm rose to prominence during the two-term presidency of William Gordie Bannon. Derek Gladstone, the ‘G’ in M&G, had played college football at Stanford with the President. His close friendship with the most powerful man in the world carried influence across America and around the globe. It was no secret that Derek and his lobbying firm had intimate access to the White House. That perception not only curried favor in the halls of Congress, companies lined up at their door for the opportunity to draw close to the administration. And Derek too.
During President Bannon’s eight years, the media hounded him incessantly about the appearance of impropriety that his relationship with Derek suggested. Yet to his credit, Bannon never distanced himself from his college roommate. Everyone understood the message that loyalty conveyed. More importantly, the attention M&G received as a result of the constant publicity, whether good or bad, made Miller and Gladstone the hottest lobbying firm in the country. With the 2004 election of former U.S. Senator, President Alan Conroy, the fortunes of M&G had changed overnight. Not for the better. Access to the Oval Office and Congress were not easy to come by for what the press had once called “the world’s most prestigious law firm.”
A new chief executive in the White House brought with him new standards of access. President Conroy made a concerted effort to distance himself from the ways of his predecessor. To make matters worse, a deliberate strategy by some in the halls of power to settle old scores, left M&G, once the ultimate insider, on the outside looking in. While business was still good, it was far from the windfall of the Bannon years.
Callie Wheeler had single-handedly changed all of that.
“Where do you stand on this, Callie?” asked Barry Miller. He was her boss and a man she thoroughly distrusted.
“I’m not even sure why we’re discussing this at the moment…”
“Of course you’re not, because it’s not about you,” Whitaker Jordan interrupted Callie. He could not help but sound pompous. Jordan, a talented lobbyist in his own right, resented everything about Callie Wheeler. His distaste for her was the worst-kept secret at the firm. A former aide to retired Senator Andrew Abeles, he had butted heads with Callie quite a few times while working on Capitol Hill. He despised her then and that sentiment had not changed since he joined the firm two years earlier.
“What is it that bothers you more, Whitaker? Me being a woman, or me being a woman with an opinion?” The other lawyers seated around the conference table sat quietly. They had seen this confrontation plenty of times before.
“Stop, you two. We’re not doing this again,” Barry said. “Callie, what’s the problem?”
Callie glanced over at Jordan and gave him a sarcastic smile. She stood up and sashayed towards the dry-erase board. She picked up a red marker from the tray and yanked off the cap. The heavy smell from the marker made Callie recoil. As the fumes receded, Callie zeroed in on the proposals Barry had laid out on the white board in front of her.
“This...here...is a non-starter,” Callie said as she drew a thick long red streak diagonally across nine lines of information. “The legislation on nuclear waste is dead; I killed it before the Memorial Day break.” With the Sharpie in her hand like a sword in search of its next victim, Callie strode over to the adjacent section of the board and drew a large ‘X’.
“Drilling off the southern coast is going to happen no matter what so we don’t have to insert anything into the Wildlife bill...”
“Who says it’s gonna happen?” Jordan asked.
“I do,” Callie said as she turned around and faced Jordan and the other thirty-one attorneys in the room. “I already took care of that in the last appropriations bill and as far as that section over there,” Callie said, pointing to the far end of the board as she made her way back to her seat. “It makes no sense and we should get out of it as soon as possible...”
“Do you agree with that, Barry?” Jordan asked, obviously dissatisfied with Callie’s assessment. Jordan stood just above six-feet-tall and fancied himself a good looking man, which he was. His disheveled brown hair helped to give off a care-free attitude which he felt should have endeared him to all women, but especially Callie Wheeler. He was unsure if his hatred for her was mostly due to her success or her rebuffing of his constant advances when they had first met on the Hill five years before.
Barry hesitated a few moments before answering the question. “I think we need to consider what Callie said, but in the long run we have to protect our clients.”
Whitaker looked over at Callie. He wanted to return her sarcastic smile, but she never saw him. She’d seen this scene before from Barry and had prepared herself for the onslaught. While she had gotten used to his games, they usually involved someone else. She sometimes thought things would have been different if Derek was still around. It was at times like these that she missed him the most.
• • •
Derek Gladstone was forty-one years old when he met Callie for the first time in the Lobby at M&G. Callie had spent the previous week preparing for her interview yet none of that mattered. She was immediately struck by Derek’s athletic six foot-two frame as if it had been designed in a laboratory. After exchanging pleasantries, Callie followed him into a large office overlooking the city, where red and white carpeting dominated the decor. Behind a ten-thousand-dollar mahogany desk, a long eight-foot window exposed a skyline accented by the White House and Capitol Hill.
“Callie, this is my partner, Barry Miller.”
“How do you do, Ms. Wheeler? Welcome to Miller & Gladstone.” Barry only referred to the firm that way. He was sure it sounded more dignified than using a catchy set of initials.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Callie said.
Before he took his seat across from her, Derek motioned Callie to the corner of his office where a set of white couches were situated underneath a picture of Derek and President Bannon sharing a laugh in the Oval Office. To the left of the massive photo, another huge frame displayed a shot of Derek and the President wearing their football uniforms following Stanford’s Rose Bowl upset of Ohio State twenty years earlier. Callie gently smoothed the back of her skirt as she sat down, while Barry grabbed a black executive chair from the conference table behind him and positioned himself next to Derek.
“How
