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Authors: Nicolle Wallace

Tags: #Intrigue, #Betrayal, #Politics, #Family, #Inter Crisis

Madam President (15 page)

BOOK: Madam President
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“I need to ask you about Penny and her Facebook comments, but I can do it after the speech.”

“Let’s get it out of the way. I just spoke to her.”

“How was that?”

“Being the commander in chief is just a title, and not one that holds much weight inside your family. In the Kramer family, I’m obviously just the mother of two college freshmen.” Charlotte smiled.

“It must have slayed you to see her take to Facebook instead of picking up the phone and calling you.”

“A call would have been better,” Charlotte admitted.

“But at least we all know how proud of you she is,” Lucy said, winking.

Charlotte thought it was a cheap shot, but she fought the urge to cut off the interview.

“Did you punish her in any way?”

“I didn’t, Lucy. Your kids are still in diapers, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but at some point, you just hope that your children learn from their mistakes.”

“So, in your view, obviously, Penny made a big mistake, but prochoice activists are saying she’s brave beyond her years.”

“Maybe they’ll pay the rest of her tuition at Stanford,” Charlotte said with a tight smile.

Charlotte was feeling ambushed by the interview. She saw Marguerite make a
wrap it up
sign with her fingers while she maintained a stoic gaze at Lucy. The reporters pretended that they didn’t see Marguerite.

“All right, Madam President. I know you’re already late. What can you tell us about the speech you’re about to deliver? Is the political price you’re paying worth the relief of finally sharing your true thoughts about reproductive rights with the public? And do you think your side can really advance a prochoice agenda if politicians wait until they don’t face any further elections before they speak out on this issue?”

It had been a long time since Charlotte had been asked so many questions in a row that she found offensive, but Lucy had managed to press her buttons in a way no one had for as long as she remembered. Lucy had essentially called her a fraud. Charlotte turned to Richard, who was standing silently next to Lucy.

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say,
Don’t look at me; I can’t control her, either.

“Lucy, I’m looking forward to listening to the women who have come here today. Many of them are working hard to make sure that women and girls at all income levels have access to quality health care. As to the question about any political price I might pay, let me assure you that at this point in my presidency, I don’t give a damn about the political price to be paid for anything my administration does, as long as we’re all doing what we believe to be in the best interest of the American people. As far as your other question about waiting until I didn’t face any other elections, I think that if you look back at my record, you’ll see that I typically did the most politically difficult
thing, not the politically beneficial one, so I resent your suggestion. But I thank you for this opportunity to speak to you. To be continued. I need to get into the reception now.”

Monty appeared by her side the moment Charlotte turned away from Lucy.

Charlotte was steaming.

“We’re going to head into the hold for about two minutes of down time, and then you have photos and brief off-the-cuff remarks at the VIP reception,” Monty said.

Charlotte nodded and followed him into a small office that had obviously been commandeered from someone on the museum staff.

“Where’s Marguerite?” Charlotte demanded.

“She stayed behind to talk to Lucy.”

“Ask her to come in here right now.”

Monty covered his mouth and spoke into his sleeve. Seconds later, Marguerite appeared.

“What the hell was that? I sure as hell don’t plan to do another interview with them after the speech now.”

“I understand, Madam President.”

“I don’t know why I agreed to do this. Call Dale, and tell her she’s going to have to come up with something else, because I am not sitting down with them after the speech.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

While Charlotte was venting, Craig had entered the room. He was still talking on his cell phone when Charlotte turned from Marguerite and glared at him.

“Are we keeping you from something?” she snapped.

“Sorry about that, Madam President. I heard the interview was nasty. And short.” He slid his phone into his pocket.

“I told Marguerite to cancel the next one.”

“Let’s discuss it after the speech,” he soothed.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Monty handed her a cup of coffee and a bottle of water. As Charlotte reached for the coffee, she noticed that Craig gave Marguerite a knowing look. Charlotte felt handled.

“I saw that. For the record, I’m not simply venting. I’m dead seri
ous. I am not talking to them after the speech. Period. Let the geniuses in the press office come up with someone else for Lucy and Richard to harass. Maybe the vice president can take them to spin class, where they will inadvertently spin themselves into cardiac arrest.”

Charlotte saw Monty’s face break into a smile.

“Monty, is there something you’d like to say?” she asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“No? At least share with us what it is that you find funny.”

“I was trying to figure out if Richard would die faster from the spinning or from being henpecked to death by Lucy during the class. I can picture her yelling at him the whole time to spin faster and faster until his heart simply quits from the stress of it all.”

“You are one dark dude,” Craig remarked.

Charlotte turned away from all of them and pretended to study a painting on the wall so no one would see her smile.

“Thank you for that, Monty. I will bring that image with me as I head into the most important speech of my presidency. It’s all on you if I screw it up,” Charlotte said, with her back still to the group.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A few minutes later, Monty led her into the VIP reception. After a quick hello to the museum director, Charlotte was positioned at the head of the photo line, where she’d pose for one hundred photos in about fifteen minutes. She was dreading it. Before she greeted the first VIP, Monty pulled out an official-looking briefing paper to show her the diagram of the stage one last time. She peered over to look and heard him whisper, “Faster, Richard, spin faster, God damn it,” under his breath in his best impersonation of Lucy. Charlotte greeted the president of Planned Parenthood with a huge grin.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Melanie

H
i, honey, are you busy?” Melanie asked.

“I’m just waiting for Charlotte’s speech to start,” Brian replied.

“Where are you?”

“I’m standing on the press riser at the Women’s Museum. Don’t you follow me on Twitter?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I do.”

“You’re not covering the Penny stuff, are you?”

“Of course I’m covering it. Not with any vitriol or schadenfreude, like some of my esteemed colleagues, but I have to cover it.”

“Her relationship with Penny is tortured.”

“You’re talking to me as my wife right now, not the former White House chief of staff?”

“Of course.”

“Anything you want me to include as the White House correspondent for NBC News, you know, the job that pays our mortgage?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“I’ll let you figure it out for yourself.” He laughed.

“Thanks.”

“Listen, I just got a two-minute warning from the press advance folks. How are you feeling?”

“Fat, tired, starving, and nauseated. Aren’t you glad you asked?”

“I will see you tonight when you get home.”

“Go easy on her today.”

“Who?”

“Charlotte.”

“I will pretend that I didn’t hear that.”

“Call me back when you’re done. I’ll be in the air for a while.”

Melanie hung up with Brian and tried to think of someone else she could call for a read on how the Penny news was playing. She considered calling Dale to offer her assistance with the White House response. She knew exactly how Charlotte would want this handled. If she hadn’t screamed at Dale earlier in the day over the “Day in the Life” filming, it would be easier to weigh in. Instead, Melanie asked the operator to place a call to Warren. Melanie could register her suggestions with him and be sure that they’d make their way to Dale and the president.

“Hello there, Madam Secretary. What a pleasant surprise. How was your trip?”

“We’re making some progress with the military but I’m afraid that the police are being infiltrated by thugs—same old struggles.”

“I understand exactly what you’re saying, and I want to hear about it this weekend. We’re having dinner together at your place on Saturday.”

“With you and Dale?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Is that sarcasm I detect in your voice, Madam Secretary?”

“Not even a touch of sarcasm. We haven’t seen you in weeks. What the hell do you and Dale do with yourselves? Actually, I don’t want to know the answer to that. Listen, I need a favor. Have you talked to Charlotte?”

“Not since yesterday, when we went over the polling on her speech.”

“You did polling on her speech?”

“We do polling on all of her major speeches.”

“I forgot that.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I do the polling after the speech text has gone final. We find out what language resonates and all that stuff. God, Mel, you make me feel so dirty about it!”

“I didn’t mean to do that. Can you please make sure that Dale knows not to try to brush Penny’s post under the rug with any sort of shrug of the shoulders or glib comment like ‘Teenagers will be teenagers.’ That would drive Charlotte crazy. She’d want Penny to be treated like an adult. She doesn’t care about how it looks to anyone but Penny, so tell the press folks not to do any apologizing for Penny’s behavior. Besides, I’m sure that Penny knew exactly what she was doing.”

“You’re right, of course. Look, I think this is a good moment for the president. Most people I know with kids in college feel like human ATMs. This show of disrespect from her eighteen-year-old daughter is something that will rally everyone with kids to her side, especially if she is able to reveal some of her angst over being a working mother.”

“That’s always been something that she talks about in private but not in public,” Melanie said.

“It would be great if she could do some hand-wringing in full view of the public, but you are probably the only person who could have persuaded her to do that.”

“Not anymore,” Melanie reminded him.

“You’d be surprised. She still talks about the advice you used to give her about letting people see enough of her to empathize with her even when they don’t agree with her.”

“She does?”

“All the time. I can’t believe Charlotte let you go to DOD.”

“She’d tap me to be ambassador to Siberia at this point, but for the time being, I’m staying put.”

“How long until you have to stop traveling?”

Warren was one of five people, including their doctors, who knew she was pregnant. Brian had told him. At first, Melanie was upset that he’d shared the news, but she realized that he’d needed someone to talk to about everything they’d been through.

“I don’t have any idea. I guess a couple more months, right?”

“I think they let you travel up to six months these days.”

“Good to know. I hear Dale is going to meet the parents tonight. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. You don’t like her very much, do you?”

“Warren, I love that she makes you happy, and I think she does a nice job from the podium for Charlotte. I just think she’s one of those women who are never happy with what they have or who they are with.”

“I hear you, Mel. I worry about that, too.”

“Brian would kill me for saying this, but I don’t see her wanting the same things you want in life. Women like Dale don’t have a biological clock or an internal compass that points them toward a settled life with a home and a husband and kids.”

“Mel, you’re probably right, as usual, but I have to play it out. I’m crazy about her.”

“I know. I’m sorry to be such a downer. I’m probably wrong. Listen, your parents are going to love her.”

“I think so, too, but you know how easily Dale spooks. I hope she doesn’t think an engagement ring is imminent or anything. That would totally freak her out.”

“Yes, a diamond ring from a handsome, smart, interesting guy with fabulous friends and a steady job. That’s every girl’s nightmare.”

Warren laughed. “Have a safe flight home, Mel. You’re spot-on about the White House response. I’ll track Dale down as soon as we hang up.”

Warren was the only person Melanie knew who appreciated her intimate history with Charlotte’s “interior landscape,” as they jokingly called it when they were trying to game out how a particular intra-Cabinet debate or power struggle would unfold. Warren hadn’t been on the scene as an advisor to Charlotte yet, but he’d listened patiently one night when he’d been over for dinner to Melanie’s stories of being wooed by Charlotte six and a half years earlier, when she was the president-elect and Melanie was one of the most well-respected White House press secretaries in modern presidential history.

“I told her no way, no how, when she first asked me to stay on,” Melanie had recounted. At the time, Melanie had been the seasoned
Washington insider who’d served two presidents and had her pick of plum post–West Wing job opportunities. There were lucrative paid speeches to be given, invitations to appear on network television shows as a White House expert, and offers from investment banks, defense contractors, and the former presidents she’d served. But she’d been intrigued by the notion of serving as the first female White House chief of staff. While it was well known that the country had never elected a female president, it was a matter of slightly more consternation to Melanie and a small circle of high-powered women in Washington that no president had ever selected a woman to serve as his chief of staff. That was the case until Charlotte had asked Melanie to take the job and Melanie had accepted.

BOOK: Madam President
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