Behind Trent’s desk, outside the window, though but a block away from the White House, were merely the eight-to-ten storey office buildings forming the horde of Washington lobbyists, obscuring the view.
Yoland laid out to Tolle the background of her business and political aspirations. Propositions such as this were not novel to this office. The scale always varied; the variable factor was dollar figures invested toward mobilising a desired outcome.
The means to achieve the outcome could be in the form of establishing a think tank, either as a non-profit, or within an established university; legal appointments; lobbying for the election of sympathetic candidates, or to influence or outright craft legislation, guiding its passage into law by jockeying among other legislators open to their vote being swung.
Also of consideration was the authority and level of any influence. Whether at federal, state or county level, this could be within each government branch, respective agencies, electoral office staff, judicial clerks, prosecutors, party officials and fundraisers, officeholders of all description and myriad possibility.
Trent’s advice to those seeking his counsel in such matters to begin with was to concentrate efforts, taking the form of support for a singular candidate, or a given district at federal or state level.
Otherwise, they would need vast resources, akin to the top ten wealthiest individuals in the country. Those fortunes had the ability to cultivate such networks over decades. Still, results were not guaranteed due to unavoidable external forces. No fortune in the modern era was of a scale of omnipotence.
Yoland had already thrown out a budgeted figure before the meeting, so Trent had a sense of the scale surmountable in executing the direction. At five million dollars, he went into detail about successful examples. Trent laid out this would take the form of funding candidate’s campaigns.
Trent could sense Yoland’s restlessness. Trent took the fall, conceding to feign curiosity at what was bothering Yoland.
“What about the presidency?” she blurted. Trent had foreseen this. As so many potential suitors sat where Yoland did, clamouring for influence of that office.
This was a clear display of Yoland’s misguidedness, only undermining the sincerity of this effort in Trent’s eyes. Trent felt embarrassed, despite it having been neither his own money, nor his counsel to spread any funds thinner.
Such a political target was folly to Trent. But Yoland ignored any protestations. He could shepherd her, outside her realisation, down avenues less embarrassing, but his efforts in this instance would be in vain. There were many opportunities to turn the boat around in this early stage, but Trent grew tired of trying to mitigate her worst interests. It was tiring to feel embarrassed and prevent embarrassment. He was not a public relations director.
The presidency was by no means beyond the pale to either suggest, or try to influence, to Trent's mind. And often it could have successful results. But Trent always felt it so short-sighted to look only as far a presidential candidate. Not to mention the Oval Office had multitudes of limitations and competing attentions. He geared his career toward the judiciary with sound reason.
“Forget it,” Trent demurred. He was able to muffle his contempt for Yoland’s view, soaked in stereotype of seeking out the top of the executive.
“Take this off the table,” Trent implored once more.
As Yoland held the charge of authority via the purse-strings, Trent ceded. As much to draw the myopia to a quick close, and move on with the rest of their agreed agenda.
Trent inhaled, casting his eyes around the room for a strategy to meet Yoland’s brief, beginning his line of logic aloud.
“Well, we’re two elections away from the next presidential election - one mid-term between. That’s good in a way. It would allow us to build name recognition. There’s room for a fresh face to win the nomination for either party.
“Someone who hasn’t held office of any form is outside my ken. You're welcome to take that path, but will be on your own. I’m inclined to suggest members of our own legal society here, above all others. So, I must emphasise, either we’re on the same page on this sticking point, or I can no longer be of use.”
Yoland nodded her assent, with no significant reservation.
“I’ll be forthcoming,” betrayed Trent. “I’m thinking left-field here, so you’ll have to forgive me. I should be transparent, I’m not on-board with the tack you're wanting to pursue. So, it’s difficult for my being to wholesale get behind a candidate I’d consider electable in a general election.”
Yoland was not in sympathy of such misgivings, or paying enough attention to the crux of what Trent had said. Yoland nodded to him to continue with his train of thought.
Trent hesitated to ensure she had understood, then went ahead forthwith, scratching his head, wincing as he thought again aloud.
“Any officeholder we’d be looking at must straddle two issues, which I’ll phrase as ‘one for you, one for the electorate'. They ought to be able to tap into an issue - or issues plural - you want action on. Yet I’d offer there needs to be something folks in the national electorate can grasp on to.
“You may not have any sympathy whatsoever with what such a candidate may stand for. No singular candidate is ever full to the liking of their financial backers. There are personal traits you’ll need to live with. You won’t be getting into this for a romance to bloom; you’re in it for targeted outcomes.
“I’ll caution also, they may hold certain policy positions to your dislike. Unrelated to the targeted outcomes I mentioned. You must ignore those, or at least learn to live with them. No candidate is perfect to its contributors. There are so many competing interests.
“Let's imagine either of us in this room stood for office. Our own biases and weaknesses could prevail over our own stated policy aims. If your instincts are that strong, I’d suggest not getting into bed with them at all. But once you’ve backed a candidate, it’ll pay off to stick with them, as they’ll reward you.
“Remember, this is pragmatic, not personal. It’s not worthwhile to think of this person as your friend. They are useful to you - no more. There are no guarantees. Shit sometimes, and often, happens in this business. But money hedges the bets against it happening.
“You invest wise, do your research, and make decisions based on the information before you.”
“Ok, so what are we dealing with then?” enquired Yoland.
Trent stared in to Yoland for a beat, then went for it, gritting his teeth.
“Front of mind is a Congressman in Illinois - it’s 1st district. Illinois’ 1st district straddles the South Side of Chicago, which is very urban. High concentration of African Americans, high violent crime rate, unfortunately. But then the same district bleeds into rural Illinois.
“Sparsely populated prairie, which has a different makeup, despite its proximity to Chicago. The Congressman representing this district has before served a term as Chicago’s mayor.
"I’d say serving a federal Congressman holds a bit less prestige than the mayoralty of the Second City, but the former mayor had some difficulties which hindered him. Chicago doesn’t place term limits on the office of mayor. This individual was quite popular with segments of the electorate, especially on the South Side, with African-American folk.”
“So, what was the issue?”
“An obstacle stood in the way of Lee. That’s the former mayor’s name, Lee Adams. The obstacle needn’t have hindered him from seeking the seat for the 1st congressional district. But his fellow councillors opposed his agenda, hindering him with any initiative proposed.”
Trent stretched his arms across the table, palms down. “What I’m suggesting - or rather, offering as a possible