Board Thread:Private Roleplays/@comment-31129923-20181119100210/@comment-31129923-20181217091733

Bill remained standing beside his desk after he compulsorily shook hands with the man that towered over him. He watched Matthew strut out the door in an arrogant manner to almost instantly be swarmed by the pack of gushing reporters, following his exit. All the while, the congressman just hung there, glaring on indifferently.

As the sound of snapping cameras and repetitive questions trying to get Matthew’s attention faded, Bill’s executive assistant, Thomas Walker, returned with some packages of food from the congressman’s choice Italian restaurant nearby. Before he left the sidewalk, Thomas looked to where the commotion was before stepping on inside.

“Hey, I’m sorry that took way longer this time,” he apologized, “Who was just…”

His voice trailed off as he realized Bill had turned away to face his back window, seemingly unaware of him.

“Bill?” he inquired again.

With his body language acknowledging their presence, Bill’s eyes gazed at the very same sight Matthew had just minutes before,“I’m sure you took notice of the crowd parading down the streets?”

“Is something going on?” Thomas inquired, still puzzled.

“That, Tom, was Matthew Jones,” Bill replied in a hushed tone before turning to face him, “Vinewood actor, millionaire and now more relevantly; a definite thorn in our side.”

Tom’s expression faded into a grimace, “You’re telling me he’s backing Malone?”

“Worse, Evans is a part of the posse as well. But it wasn’t how he made his entry, that may have been inevitable,” Bill started, “It was how he spoke down to me, to us, to everything we built.”

“Geez,” Tom replied while taking a seat down at the reception desk, “and you’d think the NRCC would be bad enough…”

As Thomas began to digress, Bill leaned his shoulder on the nearby doorway and briefly pondered to himself. However, it wasn’t long before he snapped back into his usual, crafty demeanor.

“He has got the mentality to believe we don’t have the ammunition to push back,” he quipped, “but we need to be prepared to play offense when we get the chance to intercept,” he continued while stepping back around his desk, “Phone Clarke’s office.” he ordered while dialing a number on his own phone.

“I’ve tried already, it’s just been going to his voicemail for the past few days.” Thomas replied, still following the demand anyways.

“Forget it then, I’ll try something here. In the meantime, why don’t you keep an eye out on the local wildlife’s more evident breeds, I know he has a kid that gets pulled over twice a week,” Bill said in reference to Matthew, “and try to get a hold of Robert again in a couple days; if he doesn’t agree to co-sponsor then tell him he can forget about me towing him up the chain.”

After he finished the statement, the person he was trying to reach picked up.

“Hey there, I just left campus,” Allison answered, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, dear,” Bill replied in an adjusted tone, “Can you ask the Clarke’s out to dinner? I have some issues to talk over with Darren. Besides, I can’t remember the last time we all sat down together.”

Allison sensed some urgency behind his ambiguity, “Is something the matter?”

“Not at all...” Bill responded before delving into their usual after-work chats.

Matthew Jones had made a confident march into marked territory expecting Bill to do nothing more than roll over and stay down. The lecture of fiscal growth, the shameless words of self-righteous praise, and the vow to unseat him; all of it laid the foundation to a bitter aversion forming within the Representative. He was well mindful of what this man might be capable of with their social status alone, but from Bill’s end, he was going to be giving them the murky taste of how truly brutal the stage of politics could get...