Step Aside, Mr. President.

Chapter 7 - The Making of Eleanor Montgomery

Summer heat shimmered over Washington as Nicholas Hayes sat in his campaign office, air conditioning humming softly in the background. Four manila folders lay before him, each containing the hopes and dreams of powerful women who could make history as his running mate. His cancer had been in remission for three years, but the weight of this decision made him feel every one of his seventy-eight years.

"You're going to choose her, aren't you?" Elizabeth's voice carried from the doorway. She didn't need to specify who "her" was – they both knew.

Nic looked up at his wife, managing a small smile. "Come look at these files with me, Liz. Tell me what you see."

Elizabeth crossed the room, her reading glasses dangling from their chain. She settled into the chair across from his desk, picking up the first file.

"Maggie Smith," she read aloud. "Governor of Michigan. Steady hands, clean record. Says here she increased education funding by thirty percent while balancing the budget."

"And puts people to sleep faster than NyQuil," Nic added, earning a reproachful look from his wife. "What? You saw her speak at the Democratic convention in 2016. Even the coffee was dozing off."

Elizabeth moved to the next file. "Senator Sandra Lockett. Now she's the opposite of boring. Remember that speech she gave about climate change?"

"The one where she called oil executives 'planetary arsonists'?" Nic chuckled. "Hard to forget. She's brilliant, passionate, and would send every moderate voter running straight to Fitzgerald's arms."

"Elena Ross," Elizabeth continued, opening the third folder. "Your ethical foreign policy expert."

"Who called Israel a bloodthirsty murder machine, Saudi Arabia tyrannical oppressors of women's freedom, and Hitler a good tactician to learn from?" Nic quipped. "Brilliant mind but if I choose her, I will never be elected president."

They both knew what was coming next. Elizabeth picked up the final folder with the care one might give a live grenade.

"Eleanor Montgomery," she read, though she hardly needed to look at the file. "Former Governor of Florida. Secretary of Defense under Gabriel. Daughter of a white father and Sri Lankan mother. Harvard Law. Poster child for diversity and experience. Perfect on paper."

"And off paper?" Nic prompted.

"Ambitious enough to make Macbeth look unmotivated." Elizabeth closed the file. "She wants your job, Nic. Not in some distant future – she wants it now."

"They all want the job, Liz. That's not what worries me." He stood, walking to the window that overlooked the campaign headquarters below. Young staffers rushed about with papers and laptops, their energy electric with possibility. "What worries me is that she might be good enough to get it."

"Then why choose her?"

Nic turned back to his wife, his expression thoughtful. "Because we're heading into the fight of our lives. Fitzgerald has the incumbent advantage, a conservative media ecosystem, and billions in personal wealth. We need someone who can throw a punch and make it count."

"And Eleanor Montgomery knows how to punch."

"She knows how to win," Nic corrected. "There's a difference."

The announcement came the following week in Philadelphia. They chose the city of Independence Hall for its symbolism – the birthplace of American democracy witnessing another historic first. Eleanor Montgomery stood on stage beside Nicholas Hayes, her dark hair catching the sun, her smile calculated to the millimeter.