Shakeup

7

Holly Barker was working in her private study, off the Oval Office, when her secretary buzzed.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Donald Clark is here to see you.”

“Send him into the Oval in half a minute. And get word to the helicopter that they’re cleared to land and to keep her engines running.” She tidied her desk, then went into the Oval Office to be sure everything was tidy there. There was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in!”

The door opened, and Donald Clark stood there, looking gray. “Come in, Don, and close the door behind you.” She showed him to a sofa and took the one opposite. “First of all, Don, I want to tell you again how sorry we all were to hear of Pat’s untimely death.”

“Thank you, Madam President,” Clark said, lowering his eyes.

“And I want to thank you again for continuing with your inaugural party after getting the news about Pat. It was a brave thing to do.”

“I felt the flow of events shouldn’t be disturbed because of a personal tragedy.”

“How are you, Don? It’s understandable that you don’t feel entirely yourself these days.”

“I’m muddling through, I guess.”

“Well, I don’t think you should do that anymore. I think you need some time off and a real rest, and outside of Washington. The press here has been just awful.”

“Yes, it has, but I don’t think I can take time off at this juncture.”

“It’s the perfect time, Don, and I don’t have to tell you that our prospects for an early confirmation have been dimmed by the press reports. It’s all trash, of course, but it has an effect on the Senate.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m afraid we can’t go forward with your confirmation, given the circumstances. We can’t afford to lose a vote so early in the administration.”

“You mean...”

“Yes, Don, you’re going to have to leave, I’m afraid. Now, you go back to New York or to your home in... Westport, is it?”

“Greenwich.”

“Ah, yes, Greenwich.” She stood, forcing him to stand with her. The distant beat of a helicopter’s rotors could be heard, growing louder. She took his arm and propelled him toward the outside door, opened it, then into the Rose Garden. An Air Force helicopter set down gently on the White House helipad. Its door opened and an Army sergeant emerged and braced at the door.

Holly kept Clark moving. “There’ll be a car waiting at the East Side heliport, to take you wherever you need to go. Keep in touch, and after this issue has been resolved, perhaps we can find another slot for you. In the meantime, please send along your resignation for our files.”

He tried to respond, but the rotors drowned him out. Holly handed him off to the sergeant, who ushered him aboard, then entered and closed the door. The machine lifted off and made a climbing turn to the north.

Holly made her way back into the Oval Office and picked up a phone. “Is Kirby Reese here, yet?”

“Yes, Madam President.”

“Please send him in.”

The door opened, and a short, dapper man in his sixties came in.

“Good morning, Kirby, I hope you’re well,” Kate said, showing him to the sofa and taking her seat.

“Thank you, yes, Madam President.”

“This is the perfect moment to have you here,” Holly said. “Perhaps you’ve heard, we’re short a cabinet member.”

“No, I hadn’t heard.”

“Don Clark is, of course, broken up about the death of his wife and feels that he can’t accept commerce at this point.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Reese said.

“And so I want to offer you the post of secretary of commerce, and I hope you will accept.”

“Thank you, Madam President, I’d be honored to join your cabinet.”

“Oh, good.” She rose, bringing him to his feet. “Our first cabinet meeting is at three o’clock this afternoon. I’ll look forward to seeing you then. My secretary will give you some briefing papers as you leave.”

They shook hands, and Reese left.

Holly went back to her study and to work. Once again, all was right with the world. For the moment. She knew that couldn’t last. Then she had a thought and buzzed her secretary.

“Yes, Madam President?”

“Will you send in my briefing book for this afternoon’s cabinet meeting?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And is that young lady from Ralph Lauren’s office still in town?”

“I believe she leaves for New York this afternoon.”

“Could you get her on the phone for me?”

“Of course, Madam President.”

A moment later, her phone rang. “Ms. Roth,” her secretary said.

Holly picked up the phone. “Shelley?”

“Yes, Madam President.”

“I wonder if you could do something for me. I need a dress made for a friend of mine. Her birthday is this weekend. Could your people run something up for me?”

“Of course. What did you have in mind?”

“A burka.”

“Did you say a burka?”

“I did. She’s Muslim. Nothing too colorful, but not black, either. Something that doesn’t attract too much attention.”

“Shall I send you some swatches?”

“No, I’ll trust your judgment.”

“What dress size is she?”

“Fortunately, exactly the same as mine; you can use the dummy you made up for me.”

“And when do you need it?”

“If you could deliver it to the attention of Claire Dunne — she’s the head of my Secret Service detail — at the Carlyle Hotel by noon on Friday.”

“Of course.”

“And send the bill to my friend, Stone Barrington. You have his address. It’s a gift from both of us.”

“Consider it done, Madam President.”

“Goodbye, Shelley.” Holly hung up. It would amuse Stone to get the bill, she thought...