Gonzo waits patiently as the others finish reading Ellie Endsley’s proposal.

“The Speaker would like to stop by while you’re here, El, to thank you for all your hard work on behalf of the state’s independents. But his calendar is very full today, so we’ll just have to see.”

Endsley’s hands are folded on the table. Despite the pain she always feels when seated, she sits-straight backed and breathes easily. She smiles at Gonzo and nods.

The Speaker will come; she is sure of it.

Endsley should be thinking about her talking points. There are sure to be questions when the team around the table finishes reviewing her proposal. But she is distracted. Three times since her arrival, she felt a strange but familiar energy passing between Gonzo and Tori Mangonel, Carol King’s assistant.

Mangonel has not made eye contact with Endsley since Endsley’s arrival. At first, Endsley was sure that the girl was avoiding her gaze because of Endsley’s ongoing attacks on King (who is noticeably absent from the meeting).

Then an idea occurs to her. “This girl isn’t angry. She isn’t thinking about me at all.”

An administrative assistant sticks his head in the conference room, breaking the silence. “Trey sent you that link, Mr. Garza.”

“It’s about fucking time.”

Gonzo retrieves his tablet from the table and touches the screen several times. He looks up at the display mounted on the west wall of the conference room, but the title page of Endsley’s presentation continues to be the only window displayed.

Gonzo tries again to make the window on his tablet appear on the big display. His brow is furrowed, and he makes a sound of frustration from somewhere deep in his throat before poking the screen several times in a row. He looks up hopefully, but the display remains unchanged.

“You want me to try?” Mangonel asks.

Gonzo frowns at the tablet a second longer, then hands it to the girl without looking at her.

Endsley, suddenly, is sure about them. Mangonel and Gonzo have been together. Probably more than once.

“Here it is,” Mangonel announces. A live feed entitled Whatcha doin’ at the courthouse appears on the display.  The sound is muted.

“I want to watch this real quick. Is that okay with you?” Gonzo asks Endsley. “This is that issue that Presiding Judge Castro testified about in Senate Finance last week.”

“Please, I am grateful for the opportunity to learn about what’s going on.” Endsley smiles genuinely at the man who was once her lover – a long time ago, before her accident, before he became the man he is today.

“Perhaps if we take a few more minutes, the Speaker will show up,” Gonzo suggests as they wait for the feed to buffer.

Endsley knows that Gonzo is patronizing her. “He sits there blabbering like a cocky gorilla, but he doesn’t know how naked he is,” she thinks. Endsley loves it. She can see that Gonzo is sure that the Speaker won’t show.

“Let’s do it,” Endsley says amicably, gesturing toward the display.

Mangonel increases the volume, and the conference room quiets. On the screen, a person waiting outside the Travis County courthouse is being interviewed. She tells the camera that she is waiting to meet her lawyer. She had a minor marijuana conviction still being processed when Texas voters approved the constitutional amendments that decriminalized marijuana and made it a legally prescribed drug.

The woman in front of the courthouse – and the string of people they interview after her — are trying to overturn marijuana convictions that happened before Texas’ marijuana laws changed.

“This is old news,” Endsley thinks. This very scenario was discussed when the conference committee was finalizing the ballot language in the SJR.

Endsley ignores the interviews.

Instead, she watches Gonzo and Mangonel. She sees that deep, red glow high up on his dark cheeks, like a clay pot still in the kiln. She sees the eager longing with which Mangonel continues to react to Gonzo’s every movement.

“They might as well be screaming to the room that they fucked,” she cries in her head. Then she closes her eyes and focuses on her breath.

“He’s a chauvinist,” Endsley reminds herself after the twinge of jealousy passes. “He’s a lovable chauvinist (which is why I stayed with him as long as I did), but who could partner with someone who makes decisions before all of the information is presented.”

Endsley wonders if Mangonel knows.

Then it occurs to Endsley how it might have happened between them: Gonzo was a little tipsy and said something sexist to Mangonel during a meeting with Carol King. The girl showed up a few days later, after the close of business, and she displayed a willingness to play out some 1950’s office fantasy. She played his secretary. He was rough and demanding. He pressed her against his office window and took her from behind, displaying his power for everyone to see.

As Endsley’s daydream fades, the live feed on the display falls dark. Mangonel tries to restore it, but she mistakenly brings up a proposal that is meant for another meeting later that day.

It is clear from the looks on the faces in the room that Endsley is not supposed to be seeing this. She quickly scans everything on the display. Then she closes her eyes, breathes in, breathes out, opens her eyes, and scans it again.

It’s some kind of toilet to tap-related campaign. Endsley sees the name of Olee Olye’s firm in the file name. She does not know Olye, but she knows what kind of work he does. “Interesting,” she thinks. She tries to figure out which of the Speaker’s allies is having the hardest time with water politics.

Gonzo growls and leans forward impulsively to snatch the tablet from Mangonel. Before he can reach her, the image on the display is replaced by Endsley’s proposal.

Gonzo looks long and hard at Endsley.

“We lost the feed?” Gonzo asks Mangonel irritably. The girl shrugs apologetically.

“All right,” he says after his rage passes, “who has questions for our friend?”

Before anyone has a chance to answer, the door to the conference room opens. Speaker Garza is holding the door open with one hand. A woman unfamiliar to Endsley is speaking to him.

“You should be aware that my client can be exceptionally difficult to work with when he is angry.”

The Speaker looks unfazed by the woman’s choice of words. Still smiling, he looks inside the room and gives Endsley a quick wave.

The Speaker turns back and responds to the woman with a note of impatience in his voice. “Please tell our friend that I respect the diligence with which he works to satisfy his partners. And, I am confident that he will find the House eager to help him accomplish his goals.”

The woman nods and takes her cue to leave. “Thank you for sharing your time with me, Mr. Speaker.”

The Speaker enters the room and everyone stands.

“El,” he says gently, taking Endsley’s hand. “You look beautiful, as always, my friend.”

“You as well, Mr. Speaker. What’s your secret? Serving our state with honor and statesmanship must be a restorative; you still look like a 25-year old Senate staffer.”

The Speaker smiles genuinely, then looks at his brother. “Is there anyone working the Capitol who does it better than our elegant and talented friend?”

“No,” Gonzo replies matter-of-factly. “Do you have time to sit, Mr. Speaker?”