WHITE HOUSE SCHEDULE
President of the United States
10:05-The President and Vice-President Receive The PDB (Presidential Daily Briefing)
11:00-President Meets with Senior Economic Advisors.
12:00-President meets with Secretary of State Thornton.
1:30-President Delivers Remarks on Passage of Prison Reform Act Anniversary (Pool Spray)
Roosevelt Room.
3:30pm- Meeting (closed press)
Time: 3:40pm
The Oval Office was always smaller to those who were visiting it for the first time. There was an almost sterile atmosphere to the place. Not a speck of dust in sight, the bright colors of the official rug in the center of the room was illuminated by the bright summer sun. The pictures of the President's family that decorated the President's desk were lovely. Her normally stern face could not help but smile when she saw them. Fascinating...
Louise Martinez had arrived on a red-eye jet Geneva, were she had been apart of an economic council of women in the developing world to Washington D.C. It was a meeting that scheduled rather efficiently , however the White House had worked in tandem with her staff to see to it that it happened. When the President of the United States arranged to have afternoon tea with you, there was no refusing him. In fact, even if he was running a good ten minutes late, you were not irritated. You merely fiddled with your ink-well pen, took in the majesty of the Oval office and understood the weight of the moment.
Louise was a financial wizard. Smart, sharp with understanding of markets and bonds, she had made a name for herself on Wall Street, heading up one of the most storied Hedge Funds. However the work was suddenly becoming rather monotonous. Profit margins were no longer interesting, nor were the pushy investors.
She was willing to leave behind nearly 25 years in the private sector to serve her country. To serve a President who had made her proud to be a Republican.
"Louise! How are you?" President Grant greeted warmly with a stern handshake.
"Great, manning the markets returns on investments. Investors get nervous when quarters start closing out." Louise smiled brightly as she shook his hand.
There was something about him. Yes, he was good-looking, charming even. She had met him a handful of times at fundraisers and conventions. However, she had never been alone with him. The refrain she often heard from peers and world leaders was "He sees right through you" or "He makes you feel like the most important person in the room".
From the time he motioned from them to have a seat to the Special Assistant bringing in her favorite Brazilian coffee (clearly they had done their research), she felt swept in the myth of the man.
"So, I think it goes without saying that you are an immensely qualified. Smart, business-minded with an incredibly resume. I need someone who's hand I don't have to hold. Someone who the House Republicans will respect and the Democrats will fear. Not to mention, re-election is right around the corner and this White House needs to be running on all cylinders."
Louise nodded slowly.
"Of course Mr. President. What did you have in mind."
The President smiled, his bright eyes aglow.
There was something a bit off-putting about his smile. It was like a lion had sensed a gazelle in the area.
"Well, I would like to start fresh. So if, and when you take the job, you have free reign to clean house."
D.C TIMES
A CHANGE HAS COME.
Written by Gideon Wallace.
The end of an era has arrived. The mid-term elections are mere weeks away and the buoyant President with his waves of chestnut hair is beginning to show signs that the office is getting to him. Recent photos show a smattering of grey hair at his temples. This point in every President's administration comes. The personnel changes begin to take hold. People start to resign from being burned out.
The heart attack of Cyrus Beene has opened this new era in a way that few could predict. No longer will the combative "Lord of Mean" be at the helm of the White House.
Cyrus Beene ran his White House on a tight leash. Loyalty was valued and the only thing that mattered was whether most if not all the President's bills were passed. Press Secretary Jeanne Locke once joked that "Cyrus was most happy when he was the least happy". His relationship with Republicans was complicated. While Senate Republicans, more moderate and tolerant admired and respected him, always willing to use him to cut a deal with Democrats, the House Republicans feared him in public, resented him in private.
His sexual orientation has always been an uncomfortable point of contention for the more socially conservative sect who run the House Republicans. His abrasive, zero sum game of politicking always rubbed them the wrong way. Not to mention many of them have never forgiven the old man for his hand in demolishing Langston in the primaries and relegating her to a largely ceremonial Vice-President. The Grant White House has been the bastion of bipartisanship and effective foreign policy. However the palace intrigue aspect of the White House, specifically the divide between the Grant Gladiators and the Langston Loyalists has been bubbling under the surface.
A few wild card have never quite towed the line. For example, the President's Deputy Chief of Staff, Jake Ballard who may very well be seeing his way out the door.
Ballard, 41 has been a thorn in the President's side since the primaries. He is often accused by some, specifically junior staffers in the White House of political expediency and harboring a long-standing grudge against the First Lady. An undisclosed source who wishes to go by "Senior White House Official" has signaled that Louise Martinez, the CEO of Strafford Lewis has signaled to the President that she will bringing in new staffers and that may mean the departure of Ballard.
The 47-year-old financial titan has a long history of valuing loyalty and the recent piece in New York Magazine detailing Ballard's chummy relationship with former D.C Times reporter Vanessa Chandler has made life incredibly hard. So it goes without saying: A New Era in Washington D.C has arrived and Ballard is not a part of it.
A Week Later...
LOCATION: THE OVAL OFFICE, 1600 PENNSLVANIA AVE, The West Wing.
STATE DINNER; HOSTING SPANISH DELEGATION.
The walk from the East Room to the West Wing was the longest in Jake Ballard's life. He had been given a signal from a Secret Service agent that he was needed in the Oval Office. His heartbeat was so loud he could hear it in his ears. His hands were clammy and during the walk over, he had refrained from engaging in conversation with anyone. Not the agents, not anyone.
He knew. He had known for sometime. He should have known when Martinez was hired. When the NY Mag story was published. It was cruel, vicious even to have him on the guest list tonight. However when he realized he had been seated at a less than desirable table, nearly 50 feet away from the President and his inner circle he should have known.
Wallace's article had been his obituary.
Was it possible to feel both nauseous and anger? Was it possible that years of cultivating a name in Washington would end with him getting fired?
When he had reached the door of the Oval, his hands shook...
It was like being in a villan's lair. The President, sharply dressed in his Armani tuxedo was nursing a glass of scotch.
There was an eerie glow in the Oval. He had never really been in the office this late, with the moon providing the only light, creating a shadow across the President's handsome face.
At every turn of the test, he had failed.
He had failed to cover his tracks.
He had trusted that Chandler would have his back.
But there was no winning with them.
"Have a seat, Jake." The President motioned from his desk, his eyes shinning with focus. It was their world, and everyone else just lived in it.
"Sir."
"So. I take it you know why I have called you here." His baritone rich with delight.
Jake swallowed.
"I have an idea." Jake said slowly.
The President got up and walked around the desk, taking a long gulp of his scotch and letting the silence breathe.
"I am running for re-election. I am announcing this after the midterm elections. So I think I have to have the best possible team around me now. Especially because Cyrus Beene is no longer a member of my team."
"Understandable sir."
"Meaning I cannot have distractions, press leaks...unseemly really." The President started playing with his wedding ring, a habit of his when he was becoming irritated. It was as if the golden band acted as a stress reliever.
Jake locked eyes with the President, his boss's stern expression telling him everything he needed to know. There was no chance of arguing for his job, advocating for himself. This was the warning. The gunshot in the ceiling. IF he argued against what time, this meeting and his many screw ups were pointing to, the Grants had dirt on him. They had been bidding their time. Slowly. First there was the planting of stories...
Then the humiliation of Chandler, by getting her fired as a warning but he did not listen. He did not think them capable of this kind of onslaught.
Boy, was he wrong.
"I would hate to have leaks about my Deputy Chief of Staff hit the press, especially in the wake of Cyrus's heart attack. See, when you are vetted for this place, there are somethings that slip up in the background check. But the amazing thing about having a wife who is the best Fixer in D.C is, she has a firm that can dig up things that even the White House Council would miss. Things like a one night stand with a waitress during the night of the Iowa Primary. A waitress who was underage. A waitress who with enough money would be willing to come forward and speak about how you coerced her into sex. I would hate to see your future in this town completely ruined due to unsubstantiated rumors."
Jake's mouth fell open. What the hell?
"You wouldn't. I didn't know she was-"
"Oh, I would not. Like I said I have no control over how these things work. The ball is in your court. You can resign, with dignity. Make up whatever excuse. We will cry tears of pain, sing your praises if you like. Hell, we can get in touch with a think tank, maybe Roger at FOX news, see if they can line you up a gig. But you will leave this White House. You have a week to hand Louise your letter of resignation." The President said menacingly, casually polishing off his scotch.
He could feel his throat closing up. For the first time in years, tears were bubbling up to the surface.
Boom.
The ceremony for Jake Ballard's departure from the White House was surreal. He could hardly make it through the phony speeches, the presentation of the cake made by the White House Chef with the caption "We Will Miss You, Jake."
The Press Pool of the White House had never seen such a very skilful presentation in political theater. Even the mob was not this artful.
East Wing, with a handing off to the new Deputy Chief of Staff, Ethan Asher, a Legislative Aid who was 10 years Ballard's junior. There had been a warm (yeah, right) speech by the President, New Chief of Staff Louise Martinez and finally the First Lady.
"I met Jake Ballard years ago. He was smart, loyal and sharp. With an understanding of politics and legislation that had astounds. He has worked closely with my staff on the LEAN FORWARD initiative and understood the importance of achieving the goals my husband has set out to carry out. So without further ado, I am honored to introduce Jake Ballard, may you prosper in your future endeavours."
The First Lady was dressed in a bright red sheath dress. Nancy Reagan red. Pearls, heels and whole nine. Never had the devil looked so beautiful. The woman who had manipulated his demise and had her husband, the most powerful man in the world threaten him was now standing at a podium, wishing him well and blowing him a kiss.
Touché
He walked up slowly, his prepared remarks tucked in his breast pocket. To add a cherry to his shit-sundae, the First Lady hugged him, her expensive perfume arresting his senses. She stood on her toes, whispering in his ear.
To the press and photographers who snapped the picture, it was a sweet moment between a departing White House staffer and a nurturing First Lady who treated staffers with kindness and sincerity.
What she actually said, on the other hand was another matter.
"If you come for the Queen, you best not miss."
Jake fought to keep his expression blank as she smiled at him and step aside standing by her husband. He stared at her for a few seconds longer than he should, his heart stopped. The dissonance between the pretty smile on her face and her threat was beyond frightening.
So for the next ten minutes, as Jake blubbered through his speech, spouting platitudes about how working for the Grants was a "dream" and he would take the lesson's he learned from them wherever he would go, time stopped.
Time moved slowly. The façade of elegance that covered these manipulative and cold people was astounding.
The First Lady of the United States had killed his career and held a party for the execution.
The worst part?
There was nothing he could do than admire the skill in which it was done. Lady Macbeth had shit on Olivia Pope.
Jake 0, Olivia infinity.