It's nice out here. 60 degrees. The leaves are golden. A lady and a couple kids are walking down the sidewalk towards the gardens. I wonder who she's voting for.
My stomach is in knots. I really hope I'm not getting an ulcer. I'm being really careful about my health. I want to have a long healthy life with my family.
I feel far better than I did during the last campaign, but still, this is stressful and there are moments, like this one, sitting waiting for a meeting with Joe Quincy, who called and wanted to meet away from the White House, where I can feel the anxiety rising, and I have to stop and decide how this is going to affect me.
A covert meeting is exactly the type of thing that could shoot my blood pressure 20 points. But it's not worth it. This is important. But it's not everything.
So I go back to trying to enjoy the fresh air and appreciating the beauty around me.
I spot him striding towards me a few minutes later. He's smiling.
"Josh! Good to see you." I grabs my hand and pumps it while pulling me into a weird half armed man hug.
"Please tell me you have good news for me."
"I have good news for you." He grins, pausing for effect. Doesn't he know that I'm a man on the edge, here?
"Well?"
"We got it."
"Tell me."
"You were right to look in your own backyard. Once you narrowed down the list of people who had advance access to the President's schedule, we were able to find the patterns."
"Who was it?"
"A guy in advance was being paid by a dark money PAC to provide information about the President's travel schedule and details about the President's itinerary."
"Ron's going to go ballistic. This is a complete breakdown in security. My god. I don't understand how they could have missed someone who was compromised."
"Well, I can't go into that, but I can tell you what we know."
"Sorry, please do."
"On the surface this guy looks good. He wasn't very politically active in college until his last semester. His degree is actually in hospitality and logistics. He was qualified for the job. And from what we can tell he did a good job."
"What the hell, Joe?"
"A guy he knew in college suggested that working on a campaign would be a good way to get some job experience. When he showed some interest, they approached him with the idea. If he could get onto the campaign, they'd give him a bonus, then pay him for information. His father is very sick. The money is going towards his care."
"I'm sorry, but I don't care. And who is THEY? And how do you know this?"
"Forensic accounting let us trace the money. Once we had that we confronted our guy."
"He confessed?"
"Yes. He was relieved to get it out. Turns out now that he's been working with President Santos he really likes him. He feels really guilty that the information he gave helped create a total lie."
"HE SHOULD!" I can't help but shout a bit at Joe, but like always he's pretty unflappable. "So who else is responsible. He didn't do this on his own."
"The PAC seems to have a strong connection to Morgan Mitchell."
"Can we prove this?"
"We're working on it. The friend that pushed our guy into politics is currently working on the Sullivan/Mitchell campaign. He's the link. We'll turn this all over to the FBI and they'll investigate. Our guy might be able to get a plea deal. He says he'll cooperate. And if they can flip either the woman or the link to Mitchell's campaign, maybe they'll be able to make the case."
"That doesn't help us right now. The FBI won't announce an investigation this close to the election, and there is no way they'd be done in time to bring charges."
"Nope."
"We need the woman to recant. And we need her to do it publically."
"We don't have any leverage with her. We haven't found the payment to her. Assuming there is one, it's been better hidden and she hasn't had any major lifestyle changes or spending. It's probably sitting in an account somewhere until after the election. And we can't hold the possibility of prosecution over her when we can't dangle a plea agreement. Any decent lawyer would tell her not to talk to anyone that can't offer her that."
"So we have to hope that someone can get her to talk before she gets a decent lawyer."
"What are you thinking?
"I think we're not the only ones investigating and some of the other people investigating don't have the same constraints we do."
"Josh?"
"You don't think that every major newspaper isn't trying to figure out if there is an even bigger story? As soon as they have enough evidence they won't hesitate to publish it before the election."
"You want to leak what we know to a news outlet?"
"I don't think I'd better admit to that."
"I'm your lawyer, Josh."
"Well, then, tell me, is it illegal for me to tell a reporter that the FBI is launching an investigation?"
. . . . . .
As we stride down the hall towards the auditorium, Helen is trying to pump Matt up.
"You are going to be great."
"I don't feel great."
"You've been through worse stuff than this." She reminds him.
"Worse than going head to head with a skilled debater on domestic issues while the country thinks that I'm a serial fornicator?"
"Yes."
"Like?"
"Combat."
"I'm pretty sure I should get hazard pay for this. . . . Josh?"
"Yeah?"
"Does this qualify for hazard pay?"
"I'll have to check."
Helen gives Matt a quick kiss and then wipes off the lipstick before she's escorted to her seat. But I stay backstage with Matt, waiting for the moderator to get settled in place.
"How many times do you think Sullivan will be able to insinuate that I can't keep it in my pants?" Matt asks wryly.
"I've got 4 in the pool."
That gets a laugh out of him and he's smiling as he steps out onto the stage. Helen shoots me a grateful look from her seat. We've done all we can, the rest is up to him.
Forrest Sawyer explains the debate rules and I breathe a sigh of relief that Sullivan doesn't take a page from Vinick's book on a last minute rule change. And then we're off to the races.
"Congressman Santos, the first question is for you. Throughout your last campaign, you said that you want to be known as the Education President. In fact you staked your Presidency on it. You said, and I quote: if in four years from now, you don't think I've improved public education in this country then do not vote for my reelection, unquote. So have you earned the vote of the American people? "
"Yes, Sawyer. I have worked hard every day to improve our public schools. We've enacted legislation to level the playing field and we've seen an increased participation in Advanced Placement and International Baccalaureate courses across the country. We've seen measurable results from our summer school pilot program and more children are enrolled in preschools than ever before. We helped close the gap between Beverly Hills High and Harlem High."
Matt directly into the camera and his tone changes- "We've made a lot of progress, but I'm just getting started and we've got a long way to go, so I need your vote."
The audience applauds wildly.
Thank God for the coin toss, and thank God for Forrest Sawyer.
. . . . . .
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!"
Lulu bursts into the room and jumps onto the bed.
I act like I'm surprised, but I knew this was going to happen the minute that Donna got up to get Lulu this morning, telling me to stay in bed and act like I was sleeping instead of reading a briefing memo.
Donna knows that I don't really like to make a big deal about my birthday. But as she always likes to tell me, "Your birthday's not for you, it's for the rest of us."
Which is why Mom and Lulu are with us on the campaign trail and Lulu is bouncing on my stomach shoving a gift bag in my face.
Donna already gave me my present, slipping into a very sexy outfit as we went to bed and telling me that I could unwrap it once it was my birthday. Needless to say, we celebrated at 12:01.
Hotel sex is a very good upside to getting older.
Lulu's eyes are sparkling as I pull the tissue paper out of the bag. "It's for coffee!" She squeals as I pull a mug out of the bag.
"Thank you honey, this is wonderful!" I assure her as I look it over. Either Donna or Nicole took some of Lulu's art and had it print on the mug. I love it. I've become the guy I used to roll my eyes at and I don't care.
"I made that for you." She points at the picture.
"You did a great job. Thank you." I pull her in for a hug and snuggle her until she's ready to get down.
"Breakfast time, Daddy." She informs me seriously.
"Okay, baby."
I'm glad that Donna gave me a warning so I could pull on pajama pants and a t-shirt before my birthday surprise. This way I can follow Lulu out into the living room without getting dressed first.
"Happy Birthday, Joshua." Mom greets me with a quick peck on the cheek.
"Thanks, Ma."
As soon as I sit down at the table, Donna pours some coffee into my new mug. There's a platter with muffins and bagels on the table. That's a nice touch. Donna's never quite let me get over that little boast. There is also a bowl of fruit and several containers of yogurt because she wants to keep me healthy.
"What kind do you want?" I ask Lulu, who quickly glances over at Bubbe.
"You first Daddy." She answers dutifully, clearly she's been coached.
"Mmmmm, I can't decide. Can you help me?"
She wrinkles up her nose. "Booberry?" she suggests.
"Good idea. What are you going to have?"
"Chocolate?" She looks hopefully at Donna who also wrinkles her nose adorably. God I love these two.
"Half." Donna concedes, "but you also need to eat some yogurt and fruit."
"Yes, Mama." Lulu agrees quickly.
Mom splits the muffin for Lulu, then takes a bagel for herself, while Donna puts some fruit on her plate. I hold my plate out for Donna to give me a scoop too. This is my life now.
. . . . . .
"Happy Birthday, Josh." Helen greets me as we join them in their suite. At my groan, she raises an eyebrow.
"Thank you, Ma'am." I quickly amend, earning an outright laugh from her.
"You're right, Donna, he's insufferable."
Donna smirks and shrugs when I shoot her a look. Traitor. I shouldn't be surprised. I usually get to avoid festivities but every once in a while she likes to torture me.
"Alright, leave the poor man alone." Matt commands them as he comes out of the bathroom fully coiffed. "He doesn't like his birthday and we've got an election to win. So let's go."
He strides straight towards the door and we fall in line behind him. I'm glad to see him focused and driven. He's not giving up and I've got his back.
. . . . .
There really isn't much time to focus on my birthday, thank goodness. It's a whirlwind of campaign events that keep us hopping across the country.
Air Force One has just landed when my phone rings at the end of the night.
"Happy Birthday, mi amour." CJ greets me. "Did all your birthday wishes come true?"
"You tell me. You know Greg Brock has the gift I really want."
"Well, Pal O'Mine, I think you're about to be very happy."
"Seriously?"
"Yes. They are going to print. Get your surrogates ready for the morning shows."
"WOOHOO!"
Everyone else in the cabin looks up and I realize I'd better move to someplace a little more private.
"Okay, CJ, I need the details so we can work out our messaging."
"The Times found a connection between the woman and the Sullivan campaign, whatever evidence they had convinced her that the truth was going to come out and that this was her last chance to really have her say. Turns out she's in it for the fame and fortune, she already has a book deal and a reality show lined up. Greg convinced her that the front page of the Times in her own words would help her in that regard. She'll end up with a whole nother round of interview requests. Apparently she really likes being on TV."
"She's also going to end up subpoenaed."
"I don't think Greg told her that."
"Probably not, but once she is I'll hope she sings like a bird. Did she verify the conspiracy with Greg? Is the Times printing the allegation?"
"They're printing the connection, but she didn't meet directly with either Sullivan or Mitchell so they are going light on that angle. They'll mention that the FBI won't confirm or deny that they are investigating due to long-standing rules designed to protect elections. They also will print the Sullivan Campaign's statement that it has no knowledge of any conspiracy and that the staffer has resigned."
"I hope they print the denial on the to be continued page."
"I don't know about that."
"Okay, is there anything else you can tell me? I'll be going straight into a strategy meeting after this."
"Just a bit of advice, from an old press secretary?"
"Absolutely."
"Less is more. Santos doesn't know the details. There is no reason for him to know the details. He gives one statement that reiterates that as he's said all along, he has always been faithful to his wife and he's always been faithful to this country. And then he pivots to the topic of the day. Let the surrogates carry the water."
"Okay, thanks for the advice, I'll pass it along."
"Sure thing. Go get 'em, tiger. We're counting on you."
"No pressure."
"Ha!" CJ laughs, "if you were looking for no pressure you sure did go into the wrong field."
"Right. Thanks again, give Hope kisses from us. Once this election is over we need to get together, I'll be taking my family on a vacation, how's California in December?"
"It can be chilly, but we'd love to have you here."
"Maybe we'll just stop on our way through to someplace more exotic."
"Have Donna call me once you have some dates. Give Lulu kisses from us. I'll send her a birthday present next week."
"She doesn't need anything, CJ."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Right."
. . . . .
"I need the numbers, Tonto!" I scream at myself in the bathroom mirror.
"Don't shout!" Donna shouts from the kitchen.
"Donnnna!" I whine as I join her. "This is driving me crazy."
"Is there any way I can get you to go to the movies for 8 hours, pumpkin patch?"
"No. But maybe you can think of another way to distract me." I offer, slipping my hand up her shirt and fondling her breast.
"Josh. Your Mom and Lulu are going to be back any minute."
"I can be fast."
"Gee. That sounds lovely." She drawls with a little smirk.
"Not as lovely as good polling numbers would be, I admit." I pull my hand out and pace across the room and back. The wait really is driving me crazy. I hope Mom and Lulu get back soon. I don't really like them walking to the park without me, even with an agent.
Donna watches me pace for a few minutes. "This is why Matt didn't let you come along on the trip."
"It was my decision. The speeches needed the Sam Seaborn touch and I didn't want both Sam and I to be away from DC. Plus I thought we needed a couple days at home."
"Well, I appreciate that. How much longer do you think until we hear from Joey?"
"She wanted at least 72 hours after the story broke before she started giving us preliminary internals. We probably won't get any new outside polling until next week."
"So . . ." Donna starts and then stops and bites her lip.
"What?"
"Do you think there's enough time for it to make a difference?"
"I really don't know."
