'Call Q-Bert.'

It was one of the few nicknames the President bestowed on the faithful and loyal Aide but the closest in describing Suzanne's controlled, incoherent swearing under her breath for nonsensical situations while managing to jump for task completions. Despite the quirky nickname, voice detection system automatically recognized and dialed the contact.

'You've reached Suzanne Gibbs and currently I'm not available...'

Suzanne Gibbs redirected all White House calls to voicemail around 3 PM, including President Owens'; it was not completely out of character for voicemails, since she traveled frequently with the Commander. The best mode was text. She refused responding to three, four dozen messages from White House colleagues. The response was prepared in mind for anyone who dared to ask.

'Oh...now, you've been trying to reach me? You didn't bother to ask my opinion about Ferris, so I don't give a damn.'

She ranted on, finally releasing some built up hostility. After learning about the late show interview at the last minute, the subtle move was a message to all involved their decision was not appreciated.

'And you know what, Claudia? I still don't believe that bullshit!'

Claudia's phone, however, was continuously ringing. For Suzanne to blurt curse words, boy, she was angry! President Owens knew of Suzanne's reluctance from the beginning. She was one of few White House employees, besides Mrs. Linda Pearson, who basked in relative anonymity. The experienced staffer simply held the device to allow their boss to hear first-hand remarks.

'The audacity to accept an interview...on my behalf?' As she bathed, dressed for the interview, the anger remained. Cabinets and doors slammed. Suzanne's one-sided tirade continued. 'I'll make his old ass run a 6 minute mile when I get back...see how you like that?!'

"Oh, she's pissed!" The President chuckled, the sound a combination of disbelief and resign to the fact his aide was dissatisfied. Owens was familiar with his aide's temperament but not to the extent of rage.

"You think, Mr. President?" Claudia answered.

"Convince her to calm down."

"Seriously? You uttered that phrase to your wife, Mr. President?" Claudia inhaled a gust of wind, teeth clicked in disgust. "It's like trying to douse a fire with gasoline."

Suzanne soon returned into the common area, mumbling about the events.

'Because I'm representing the White House, Claudia suggests to wear a dress. Now, I trust what she's suggesting. I'm a novice to this pomp and circumstance...' She retrieved the items, placed them onto the bed.

'Found the dress in 20 minutes but spent two hours looking for size 12 wide wedge heels to go with the outfit!'

'What am I going to do, Claudia?' The President asked.

"You're on your own, Boss."

Claudia Bailey sympathized with Suzanne. Competition in the workplace was an expectation in political circles, but the young aide was the only individual she even imagined a friendship outside of the work environment. Their personalities, albeit different, balanced another. The ranting was getting the best of Claudia, who was also getting dressed for the show as well.

'Suzanne: take your anxiety pill before I beat the hell out of you!'


"She's in makeup...and you know she barely wears makeup."

"Just that bit of eyeliner and lipstick..." Linda sighed. "She take her medication?"

"Yeah. She's actually mellow, thank God."

It was close to 5 PM, and the beginning of Farris' show. Claudia provided the exclusive backstage commentary to an interested Linda Pearson, who called for support.

The New York trip was the fourth trip in a three week span. Suzanne planned an extended weekend with Jethro, first visiting Solomon and the College for Charter Weekend and spending the remaining time at the cabin. The remaining days until mini-vacation were spent on paperwork-electronic posts, memo-writings and advanced schedule requests-while listening to music. Suzanne had little input on the interviews; it was mandatory, part of the job. The vacation request was postponed.

Claudia and Linda took notice a playlist from her work desktop, so it was simple from that point to accommodate and comfort their third for John Farris.

'Please take care of our coworker, Suzanne. To make her at-ease, we suggest to play the following songs. The songs are programmed either in her I-Pod or desktop computer. She gets migraine headaches, so make sure the lighting in the waiting area is dim. Please ask Suzanne if she'd like either a cup of coffee or water. Depending on the day, she will drink a cup of coffee-double sugar, double cream. She also likes sweets, such as brownies or cookies. Suzanne exercises 4, 5 times a week for about two hours a day with or without the President, so she's not weight conscious.'

Claudia watched from the hallway. The guest was in their "Green Room," without monitors, sans monologue and Kenny G playing in the background as requested. Sentimental was Suzanne's favorite instrumental, as it allowed her thoughts to concentrate about love. The first time heard as a couple: their first weekend excursion together at the cabin. The second time was at a performance. Suzanne, who took dance instruction from elementary to college, performed to the song with the Washington Dance Troupe. It was Jethro's first time learning of her hidden talent-dance. By their marriage, Sentimental seemed to describe the actions, feelings for both At their reception, they held another but communicated through a smile, a laugh the special bond and love for one another.

'Gotta go, L: they're introducing her now.'

At her introduction, the plucky song played in the background. People generally cheered, and the admirers of the form whistled. Suzanne Gibbs politely waved, smiled, and softly greeted the audience with a bashfully lilt of a hello. If there were a checklist for the famous slogan 'Strong Enough for a Man, Made for a Woman,' she made the perfect specimen for Madison Avenue advertisers. On camera, Suzanne appeared dainty and extraordinary feminine in her black dress while exhibiting confidence, competence, and some competitiveness in the workplace. She greeted John Farris with firm eye contact, strong handshake and a sturdy greeting.

'Hello, Suzanne Gibbs; good to meet you.'

Who's bad? Who's bad?

Who's bad? Who's, who's bad?

Who's bad? Who's bad?

(Wait hold up)

Who's bad?

Suzanne casually glanced out at the audience and took that extra moment to enjoy the applause. The camera captured the warm, wholesome smile. She hated to admit Claudia's advice was not a misfire. The sleek maxi dress accentuated the curves in all the right places, with the asymmetrical hem at the knee the perfect touch to admire her sculpted leg. The open neckline was a little much for Suzanne's taste, but selecting the mid-waist denim jacket was the right look to conceal her healthy chest line and polish the look with a unique New York pop.

I'm representing for the misses, all eyes on your riches

No time for the little tricks, you see the bigger the trust

The bigger the bank, the bigger the Benz...

'Who chose that song?' Suzanne chuckled.

'Your colleague did...' Farris answered. Claudia waved from backstage.

Slowly, she stepped onto the set and made way to the plush guest chair with the host following steps behind. Again, Farris introduced Suzanne by name and provided a brief description of his interest for an invitation. Farris began with soft questions, meaning compliments and flirtation tactics ensure a comfortable, false sense of security to an unsuspecting guest.

'You're certainly taller than President Owens tonight...' Briefly the camera angled to the floor in position for home viewers to notice the shoe selection. It widened the shot to finally capture a full image of both Farris and Suzanne. Proudly but ladylike, the long legs crossed and posture demonstrated a measurable height discrepancy between the guest and host. Farris wore a pleasant smile, again complementing both the erect posture in his guest chair and the stylish wedge-heeled shoes complimenting her outfit.

'Now...how does the President feel about high heels?'

"Are we spending 20 minutes discussing my footwear this evening?" Suzanne's bright smile charmed the host and audience. Her law school education prepared her for any situation.

"They're cute shoes."

With a subtle laugh, she continued talking.

"Oh, I wear flat shoes each day at work, especially tennis sneakers with suits."

Suzanne knew it was a small diversion, a trap to divert the Aide to feminine pursuits, rather than qualifications, her daily duties and responsibilities of her position as the Assistant to the Commander. It was a game, except Farris was unaware she anticipated each move and carefully calculated her counterpoint. Suzanne nodded, decided to play along for a while.

"Would you...like for me to take them off, Mr. Farris?" The seductive tone in her voice and sparkle in her eye elicited a hoot from the audience. Claudia stayed behind the stage and watched, nodding and smiling with vengeful pleasure how her colleague remained calm, courteous, flirtatious even humorous with Farris' irrelevant style of questioning.

'You…are just certainly taller than I expected.'

'You mentioned that already.'

Suzanne's response caught the quick-witted host off-guard.

"I also ate my veggies growing up...and having moderately tall parents." She smiled.

Immediately he inquired her exact height, without shoes. Suzanne answered, followed by short commentary how she grew an additional three inches between high school and college.

'So imagine being the tallest girl in high school...and the shortest among the boys on the basketball team.' Suzanne laughed. She commented that compared to President Owens, she was significantly shorter at 73 1/4 inches.

'You look absolutely amazing tonight, Suzanne.' The audience agreed with the statement with applause, a few additional whistles. Suzanne had on little makeup. It was her famous plum gloss lipstick and eyeliner. There was a hint of reddish blush against the cheekbone, accentuating the naturally shining pinkish hue. Her skin was flawless, perfect underneath the harsh studio lighting. 'That dress...your beautiful complexion…?'

"You know my husband's watching…" She remembered the flirtatious nature and remained friendly, yet on-guard.

'Right...' The audience laughed, watching Farris react nervously. 'I...forgot you're married.'

'To a sniper...' Suzanne added. It was the first time she mentioned Jethro's past life, an inkling of his identity. It was a promise made: never his first name or occupation.

"And the President?"

'I'm not married to the President.' Suzanne continued smiling. The two on-camera complemented another with the friendly banter and subtle flirtation.

'I meant...the President's watching...'

'Of course!' Suzanne laughed. 'And my two big brothers...'

'I think I better change the subject...'

'Might be your best bet...' Suzanne laughed. The audience clapped. 'Am I making you nervous?'