Situation Room Read online

  SITUATION ROOM

  a By Design Novel

  JA Armstrong

  Copyright © 2019 Bumbling Bard Creations

  All rights reserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Endless. Candace sighed inwardly. She could interrupt the conversation in the Oval Office. She chose to let it continue. Speak, speak, speak. How many times had she advised her advisers that listening was a skill she prized. She leaned back in her chair and waited. One more minute—that’s how long she would allow this circus to continue.

  “You’re not listening,” Grant argued.

  “I heard you.”

  “But did you listen? The president needs…”

  “What the president needs is silence,” Candace finally spoke. All eyes turned to her. She shook her head and let out a long sigh. “Are you through?”

  “Madame President…”

  Candace held up her hand. “Stop. Please, for the love of everything—stop. How can you expect me to consider anything you’re saying when none of you seem to be able to listen to each other?” She shook her head again. “I have what I need.”

  “But…”

  “That’s all,” Candace dismissed the room. “Dana, stay.”

  Dana waited for the room to clear. “Are you okay?”

  “Tell me why I wanted this job again?”

  “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” Candace said. “I need a friendly face to remind me that I can’t fire them all.”

  “They are a bit enthusiastic.”

  “If that’s enthusiasm, I’d hate to see arrogance.”

  “You know, immigration will come up at the press conference,” Dana said.

  Candace nodded.

  “How do you want me to approach it?”

  “The way you always have.”

  “Which is?”

  “Honestly.”

  “So, tell them we’re clueless.”

  Candace laughed. “Why not?”

  Dana grinned, relieved to see Candace relax, if only slightly. “What’s on your agenda the rest of today?”

  “You mean other than the endless list of meetings?”

  “Other than that.”

  “I have a movie date with Jameson and Cooper.”

  “How is JD? I’ve barely seen her the last two weeks,” Dana offered.

  “That makes two of us.” Candace’s intercom buzzed. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, President Reid.”

  Candace almost replied, “Why? No one else is.” She took a deep breath. “It’s fine.”

  “You have an eager visitor out here.”

  Candace knew exactly who Jen Glass was referring to. “Is that so? Does he have an appointment?” She heard Jen repeat the question and the giggle from Cooper that followed. “I’ll be right there,” Candace promised.

  “A welcome distraction,” Dana guessed.

  “It certainly is.” Candace made her way to the door and opened it. “Now, what’s this I hear about an important appointment?”

  “Mommy!” Cooper laughed and hugged Candace.

  “Where is your Momma?” Candace asked.

  “She went with Laura.”

  Candace nodded. “How was your day at school?”

  “Good. I did math.”

  “Why don’t we take a walk and you can tell me all about it over ice cream?”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Candace said. She took her son’s hand. “If anyone needs me, I’m hiding in the real situation room,” she told her personal secretary.

  Jen laughed. Candace had taken to calling the private kitchen the “real” situation room. “Understood,” she said. “Director Tate is due at four.”

  “Tell him where to find me,” Candace said. “Maybe he’ll give me better news if I feed him ice cream too.”

  “I’ll make sure he finds his way.”

  “Thank you,” Candace said. “Come on, Cooper. You, me and a bowl of ice cream.”

  ***

  “JD?”

  “Hum?”

  “Are you feeling okay?” Laura asked.

  “Not really.”

  Laura’s brow creased. Jameson never admitted to feeling sick, and Jameson looked sick. “Maybe you should go lie down for a while.”

  “I have too much to do today.”

  “JD, no offense, you look like shit.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Mom will kill me if I let you keep at it.”

  “What Candace doesn’t know won’t hurt her or you.”

  Laura groaned. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Not really.”

  “JD?”

  Jameson flopped into a chair. “I haven’t slept in a few nights.”

  “Listen, I can take care of the things on this list,” Laura said. “Most of them, anyway. Take the afternoon and take a nap. Seriously.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Laura offered Jameson a smile.

  “Thanks,” Jameson said.

  Laura watched as Jameson slowly made her way from the office. It took her less than a second to lift her phone. She waited. “Hey. Good. No, I was hoping maybe you could call JD. Why? I’m not sure. If anyone can get her to talk, it’ll be you.”

  ***

  Jameson rubbed her forehead. She’d been battling a raging headache for hours. She’d endured plenty of injuries over the years—sprained ankles, broken fingers, bruises, scrapes, and she was no stranger to the occasional cold. Headaches had never been her nemesis. “You’re getting old, JD,” she muttered. Her phone blared. “Why aren’t you on silent?” She scolded her phone and herself. “Hello?” Jameson answered, squinting in anticipation of a reply.

  “JD?” Marianne asked.

  “I think so,” Jameson joked.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Let me guess, Laura called you.”

  “Good guess. What’s going on?”

  “Just a headache.”

  “Uh-huh. JD?”

  Jameson sighed. She found a small bench tucked into one of the many corners inside the White House. “I’m okay. I haven’t been sleeping.”

  “Any reason why?”

  Jameson sighed again.

  “Worried about Mom?”

  “Maybe. Yes. I don’t know. More like missing her, I think.”

  “It’s only been a month. You two will make it work. You always do.”

  Jameson wanted to agree. She was no stranger to life in Washington DC. Life with Candace had given her more than a glimpse of what to expect. Life in The White House eclipsed the view she thought she had. “We’re okay,” she told Marianne.

  Marianne was sure that she’d never heard the word “okay” used so many times in a conversation with her step-mother. “What aren’t you saying?”

  “The truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “I miss home.”

  “I know you do. Mom does too.”

  “I know,” Jameson confessed.

  “I thought you’d be exploring every nook and cranny of that place.” Marianne attempted to lighten Jameson’s mood.

  “I have. I am. It’s fascinating. It’s just…”

  “Mom is busy. Tell her, JD.”

  “No,” Jameson put the thought to rest. “I knew what we were signing up for.”

  “She a
lso made you promise to be honest and keep her steady. She needs that, you know?”

  “I do. She tries, Marianne. She’s exhausted.”

  “So are you.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have to deal with the things she does.”

  Marianne took a moment to consider how she should reply. “She’s not sleeping either,” she guessed.

  “No. She fakes it.”

  Marianne snickered.

  Jameson laughed. She needed to laugh. “Not that.”

  “Well, at least some things are still the same,” Marianne teased. “Talk to her, JD. You know Mom, she doesn’t want to put more stress on you. You two are so much alike. Stop trying to protect each other.”

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “What?”

  “For the marriage counseling,” Jameson explained.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “What about you?” Jameson turned the conversation.

  “Me? Same ole.”

  “What about you and Scott? Thought about a date yet?”

  Marianne stretched out on the couch. She hadn’t planned to say anything to her mother or Jameson about the discussions she and Scott had about planning their wedding. She didn’t need to ask to know that adjusting to life as the First Family was taking a toll on everyone, Jameson most of all. She’d avoided calling Jameson. Now, she realized that had been a mistake. Jameson needed the normal in the absurd. It was laughable. Marianne thought their family’s life had bordered on absurd before Candace had been elected. Some days it all remained surreal. “We have.”

  “Really?”

  Marianne smiled. Jameson’s voice lifted measurably. “Yeah. I was going to talk to you and Mom at Easter.”

  “Easter? Easter is over a month away?’

  “Okay! I’m sorry.” Marianne chuckled. “We were thinking that a holiday might be best. I mean, you and Mom will be here at Thanksgiving, and I…”

  “Marianne, your mom will move the planet if she has to. She will be wherever you want her to be, whenever you tell her to be there.”

  “I know, but…”

  “No. She’ll tell you the same thing. You know she will.”

  “I do, but, JD, if we can make this less stressful, I think that we…”

  “What do you want to do?” Jameson interrupted Marianne’s thought.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you—and Scott.”

  “I’d like to do it in September—here at the house—just family.”

  “Then tell your mother that,” Jameson said.

  “I will if you will.”

  “Why do I have to tell her when you want to get married?”

  “JD—”

  “I’ll try.”

  “JD—”

  “I’ll try!”

  “Okay, I get it‚ back off.”

  “No.” Jameson groaned regretfully. “No. We’re supposed to have a movie night with Cooper tonight. I’ll talk to her after he goes to bed.”

  “Good.”

  “God, you really are bossy,” Jameson teased. “No question whose kid you are.”

  Marianne laughed. Jameson sounded more like herself.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Marianne said. “I miss you, you know?”

  “Me too,” Jameson said. “Not myself—you.”

  “You are tired,” Marianne observed.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Pick a short movie,” Marianne suggested.

  “I’ll try that too. Listen, you can call anytime.”

  “I know. I wanted to give you a chance to…”

  “If you say adjust…”

  “Sorry,” Marianne said.

  “Don’t be. I’m not sure anyone adjusts to this.”

  “You will.”

  “I hope so,” Jameson replied.

  “You will. Talk to her, JD. You’ve been down this road a time or two before.”

  Not exactly. “I’ll…”

  “Don’t say try,” Marianne quipped. “And, the phone works both ways.”

  Jameson nodded.

  “JD?”

  “I don’t want to bother you either.”

  “Not possible,” Marianne promised. “I have to run,” she said. “Spencer has a doctor’s appointment at four.”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yep. Just your run of the mill exam. Call me tomorrow,” Marianne said.

  “And let you know what movie we watched?”

  “Well, I already know what’s being faked and what isn’t so…”

  “Goodbye,” Jameson said. She laughed.

  “Bye, JD. Call me.”

  “Promise.”

  “Good.”

  ***

  Candace watched Cooper spoon ice cream into his mouth enthusiastically. She was grateful for a short reprieve, a few minutes away from the chaos that seemed to permeate every waking hour of her life.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, Cooper?”

  “Is Momma sad?”

  Candace took a deep breath and toyed with the ice cream in her bowl. Was Jameson sad? Jameson was exhausted. She was exhausted. Sad? Candace didn’t think that anyone was sad. They had both struggled to find balance. Change was never easy, even the changes that you sought. She offered Cooper a reassuring smile. “Oh, I think Momma is just a little tired, sweetheart.”

  “Yeah. Mommy?”

  “Yes, Copper?”

  “Can I see Spence?”

  “You’re missing Spencer, huh?”

  Cooper nodded.

  “Well, I think we might be able to make that happen soon. I’ll talk to Momma, okay?”

  Cooper grinned. “Guess what?”

  “What?” Candace inquired.

  “We get to write a story in school!”

  “What kind of story?”

  “Any kind. We write a page and draw a picture every day.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Yep. I drew Momma today.”

  “Oh?”

  “She was peeking in the big cabinet of dishes.”

  Candace sniggered. Well, she wasn’t looking for Spencer this time. “She was?”

  “Yep. She said that there are secrets to find everywhere in this big house.”

  I’ll bet she did. Candace’s spirit lightened measurably. Jameson possessed infinite curiosity.

  “Me and Momma can solve mysteries! But first, we gotta find the clues,” he explained.

  Candace laughed. “I’ll bet you can.” And, I’ll bet she’ll create a few along the way. She spooned some ice cream into her mouth.

  “Madame President,” a familiar voice sounded from the doorway.

  “Joshua,” Candace greeted her National Security Adviser. “Ice cream?”

  Joshua Tate smiled at the pair in the kitchen. He’d advised and interacted with numerous leaders and three presidents. Candace Reid continued to surprise him. She listened with an open mind, and from Tate’s perspective, led with an open heart. He’d been summoned to Congressional offices and the White House many times. He couldn’t recall being directed to the private kitchen where the president offered ice cream as a greeting. He had several pressing issues to brief the president on, and dozens more that he needed to impart to the president. Candace could hold court anywhere. He had learned that.

  “Mommy got chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry!” Cooper said.

  “Who can resist that?” Tate replied.

  Candace winked at her adviser and made her way to grab another bowl and spoon.

  “How’s school?” Tate asked Cooper.

  “Good,” Cooper managed through a mouthful of ice cream.

  “How do you like living in this big house?” Tate inquired.

  Cooper shrugged. “Me and Momma find lots of secrets.”

  Candace chuckled. “Apparently, Jameson and Cooper are determined to solve all the White House mysteries.”

  “That’s quite the undertaking,” Tate commented.

>   Cooper grinned.

  “You know,” Tate began. “Some people say there is a hidden room in the White House that every president uses to record the biggest secrets in a book. Only the president knows where it is.”

  Cooper’s eyes grew wider. “Is there, Mommy?”

  “Not that I am aware of,” Candace said.

  “There is,” Jameson said as she stepped into the room.

  Candace rolled her eyes. “If there is, I’m sure you two will find it,” she said.

  “It’d be easier if you’d tell us where it is,” Jameson replied.

  “And spoil your adventure?” Candace played along.

  “It’s a mystery, Momma!” Cooper said.

  “Well, at least we all know it’s not behind the china cabinet,” Candace said.

  “I’ll find it,” Jameson said.” She turned to Tate. “Maybe your National Security Adviser has some intel,” she joked.

  “On China’s Cabinet, maybe,” Tate replied. “On your china cabinet—"

  Jameson laughed. “Good to see you, Joshua.”

  “JD. Sorry, I don’t have anything to expedite your mission.”

  Candace snorted.

  “I’ll find it,” Jameson said again. “Coop can get into the spaces I can’t.”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “Just don’t get stuck in any of them.”

  “Very funny.”

  Tate chuckled. “Should I enlist some help?” he asked.

  “If you have any blueprints,” Jameson began.

  Candace threw a napkin at her. “Stop,” Candace said.

  “Hey, it never hurts to ask.”

  Tate enjoyed listening to the First Family’s banter. “If anyone can find it, it’s you,” he told Jameson.

  “Do you want to join us?” Candace asked.

  “No ice cream for me,” Jameson said. “I’d hate to get stuck somewhere.” She patted her middle.

  Jameson hadn’t displayed much of an appetite for days. She had chalked it up to lack of sleep. Jameson’s expression coupled with Cooper asking if his momma was sad piqued her concern.

  Jameson noted the unspoken question in Candace’s eyes. Her conversation with Marianne was ringing in her ears. She needed to talk to Candace—to be honest. Now was not the time. She was sure that Joshua Tate had matters he needed to discuss with the president. She was grateful that he saw fit to share an ice cream with Cooper before stealing Candace away. Candace had taken great care with all of her appointments. She told Jameson that the handful of people who would have access to her at any moment had to pass more than one test. Aside from requiring that those members of her inner circle were experts in their respective fields, Candace required the ability of her advisers to acknowledge and understand that she was a mother first and foremost. Tate clearly understood when to press for Candace’s undivided attention and when to wait patiently.