by Anna Dove
Haley and Elizabeth made their way over toward the band, where Carlos sat at a table with two others, a man and a woman. Carlos saw them approaching and stood up.
“Elizabeth, Haley, nice to see you here,” he said. “You both look wonderful.” His tone was polite and quiet.
Haley never felt she could quite make Carlos out, even though she had known him for two years. He was always orderly, never very moved by anything, assuredly an intellectual, brilliant and socially reserved. He didn’t seem shy—no, it was something else.
“Thank you, as do you,” Elizabeth was saying. Haley nodded and smiled.
The man next to Carlos stood, offering a handshake to Haley, who was closest. He was taller than expected when standing, and wore an impeccable navy uniform. He had light brown eyes, almost a hazel tone, tanned skin, and light brown hair cropped close to his head. Clean shaven, he appeared immaculately put together; he exuded an air of simple confidence and quick capability. He looked vaguely familiar.
“I’m James Landon, a friend of Carlos’,” he said; Haley shook his hand, and then paused, as the name and face registered.
“The Under Secretary of the Navy?”
“Yes,” he replied, his pleasant features breaking into a smile.
“I work for Senator McCraiben,” Haley responded, “It’s a real honor to meet you! I’m Haley Monteforte; we’re friends of Carlos.”
“Senator McCraiben has been my close friend for many years. The honor is all mine,” he said, and then introduced himself in a similar manner to Elizabeth. The woman also stood, —Ella Bonney was her name, and she worked as an analyst for the Department of Homeland Security. Pushing her black curls away from her face, she scooted a little closer to James Landon and beamed at him whenever he spoke.
“Please, join our table,” said Landon, motioning to some empty seats on the other side of Carlos. “If that’s alright with you, Carlos?”
“Of course, ladies, please feel free.”
The jazz shifted a key, and they all sat down.
The room had become crowded by this point; gentlemen and ladies mingled; the Smiths, Browns, and Joneses talked of cats and of business and the champagne flowed.
“Will you be mentioned this evening?” asked Elizabeth, who was seated next to Carlos.
“I don’t know,” he replied, twirling the glass at his fingertips. “I guess I might.”
“You’re too modest.”
“If you insist,” he said, smiling at her. “I don’t know that I am. I don’t think of these things. I don’t like these celebrations—they seem so unnecessary to me. We are all supposed to do our jobs—if some perform well, then great; shouldn’t everyone be performing well? That’s what I think.”
At that moment, the doors to the left of the room opened and the guests in attendance stood and began to clap. Haley and Elizabeth turned around, and followed suit, for entering the room was the president himself, accompanied by his dazzling wife.
President Gilman was a handsome man, young in his mid-forties, well built and with fine features. He had dark hair and defined jaw and brow; a political aura hung about him as he waved and smiled cheerfully to the crowd. A sort of Kennedy-ness vibrated from his being; his flashing grin, clean shaven face, confident and easy stride. He wore a navy blue suit, crisp and tailored, and a red tie with white collared shirt against his tan skin. He possessed the rare quality of seeming at once both accessible and elevated, human but close to deity.
The eyes of the room paused on the president, for he was the main character; but then they rested and stayed in sincere admiration on the exquisite woman on his arm. She was the muse of artists, the face of chic, the idol of millions. Her incredible grace and effortless elegance carried her forward as if she was being borne on a current below her feet. Tall, slender, full faced, cream complexion, deepest blue eyes and fullest red lips, high cheekbones and arched dark brow, she carried herself with a certain poise that was both easy and measured. She stood to the right of her husband, her arm wrapped admiringly through his, looking out about the crowd with a smile on her face and a mischievous yet endearing sparkle in her eye. Her right hand raised demurely as she gave a soft wave, which sent thrills through the crowd; she and the president made their way to the table assigned them and sat.
Hors d'oeuvres were served. Haley and Elizabeth ate the small salmon and cream cheese bites, while chatting with the rest of the company. Presently, Landon stood up and asked Haley and Elizabeth casually if they would like to accompany him to say a word of greeting to the President and First Lady. Elizabeth declined, having no excuse to do so, but Haley agreed, remembering her task assigned by the Senator. They rose and made their way over to the table.
The President and First Lady were sipping champagne and as Landon and Haley approached, the First Lady threw back her head and laughed at something that the President said. The President also smiled and rested his hand on the First Lady’s knee. He then spotted Landon and shifted in his chair to greet the Under.
“My friend! How are you?” The President said quickly. “I haven’t seen you for weeks. I hope you haven’t been holed up at the Pentagon this whole time.”
“I’m afraid so,” responded Landon with a grin. “I’ll be stopping by soon I’m sure. Mr. President, Mrs. Gilman, it is a pleasure to see you both. What a wonderful occasion—celebrating the best of the best!”
“Absolutely,” responded the President. “Wonderful people on the CEA. And you—I’ve met you before. Do you work for McCraiben?” He said, holding out his hand in greeting to Haley. She shook his hand firmly, impressed that he had remembered such a detail.
“Yes, Mr. President, I’m Haley Monteforte, his legislative director. I’ve been told to pass on a greeting from him to you. He regrets that he couldn’t make it tonight but congratulates you on the Council and on this celebration of their wonderful accomplishments.”
“Well, I’m not sure how much I had to do with the Council’s success,” remarked the President laughingly, “but I’ll take the credit. Tell old Joe he needs to come see me; I have a special bottle of his favorite Louisville bourbon for him.”
“Yes sir, I will let him know!”
“Good, good then,” responded the President.
“Mrs. Gilman, always a pleasure to see you,” followed Landon, including the First Lady in the conversation. “I saw the event you held for local artists to enter their pieces in the Christmas decor for next year. You know, I almost applied.”
“Really, did you?” Adela Gilman smiled brightly, her face turned toward Landon. “Are you artistic, then?” Her blue eyes were light and sparkling. One could become lost in their light.
“Anyone is an artist these days, Mrs. Gilman. I am very good at making sketches that could at least outshine a third grader. Sometimes I even add some color.”
Haley laughed, as did the President and his wife.
“Sure, sure, send it on in,” said Mrs. Gilman. “Everyone deserves a fair shot at being exhibited.” The corners of her ruby lips turned upward and there was a distinct twinkle in her eye. She was mesmerizingly beautiful, a true muse; any real artist would have died at the chance to paint her.
“I will, I will,” joked Landon. “Well, nice to see you both. I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy your evening, sir, madam.” He nodded his head politely, and the President shook his hand again. Offering his arm to Haley, he guided her through the tables away from the President’s seat.
“You know them pretty well,” Haley remarked.
“As well as one can. But,” he paused, “even if one is close to a president, you can never be truly close. The presidency is an office and in order for that office to retain dignity and authority, there must be a certain level of distinction between it and the people. I am close to Mr. Gilman, but to the office in which he serves, well that is another matter. He is required to embody this office, and so naturally there is separation. As there should be. We can’t imagine the pressure, and for him to deal
with the pressure he must have a certain degree of respect and authority. It is the office that he must be; the office is all that matters for this period of time. He puts away who he is as a person—who knows, he may be an avid gardener or basketball player or chef or bird watcher—he puts all of it away and assumes the office. It’s like the Queen or King of England. Of course they’re a person, but before that, they are an office, an institution.”
Haley pursed her lips. “I would hate that.”
“You get to be leader of the free world, but is it really worth it.” He raised his eyebrows, shrugged and moved forward in the direction of their seats.
They reached their table and had just seated themselves when the jazz band quieted down and a man in a tuxedo with a bald head climbed to the stage and took the standing microphone. The noises of the crowd dwindled to a hush as the man prepared to speak. He cleared his throat and looked over the mass of people.
“Welcome, all, to this evening held in honor of the Council of Economic Advisors. These are men and women have truly dedicated themselves to the service of this country and we are truly proud of them. We welcome their friends and families here tonight. We also have here with us tonight the President and the First Lady, who have been so kind as to join us in appreciating the work of our Council. Now, Mr. President and Mrs. Gilman, would you please do us the honor of coming to the stage to congratulate our esteemed Council and recognize those among us who have indubitably proven their loyalty and commitment to serving this country through the highest caliber of economic research and development?”
The president and the first lady rose from their seats, smiling and nodding as the room broke into applause. She slipped her satin gloved hand into his as he stepped away from the round table, and followed him toward the platform. He strode forward, immaculate in his suit and tie, stopping briefly to pat a friend on the back and to acknowledge another with a quick wave, and she came behind him, stopping when he stopped, her deep blue Prada dress striking envy into the souls of all women and admiration into the hearts of all men as it shimmered and rustled in the soft light. The diamond choker around her neck reflected elegantly and her brown curls cascaded from the arrangement on her head down to the nape of her neck. He was the pure essence of competence; she the pure essence of poise. Larger than life, they made their way past waves of adoration to the front. He stepped up, and then turning, lifted her hand as she followed.
“The John and Jackie of our century,” whispered Haley to Elizabeth, who nodded appreciatively.
The President stepped to the microphone and smiled. He had no notes; this was to be an off-the-cuff speech.
“Thank you all for coming to this celebration of some of our most respected and valued contributors to the work of the executive office,” he began, his eyes scanning the room. “I am deeply honored to serve in the same branch of the government as these men and women. Their steadfast efforts have not gone in vain; we have seen the American people prosper from the fruits of their labor!”
A cheer.
“We have seen the tax cuts take effect, giving hard-working Americans more money in their pockets!”
Another cheer.
“We have seen barriers to free trade removed, and we have seen Americans exporting more goods than we have seen since the turn of the 20th century!”
Another cheer, louder.
“We have been witnesses to the significant lowering of our national debt, specifically in regards to the great five economic powers, China, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Japan, and Germany!” He raised his fist.
A thunderous cheer, that lingered as the President stood defiant.
“Dear friends,” he continued, more quietly, and the crowd quieted, leaning to hear his next words. “Dear friends, these are fine people. These are members of the executive office who have made it their purpose and their goal to prosper the lives of Americans through sound economic research and policy. They are to be honored, applauded, revered, thanked, and valued for their tremendous service and contribution. Can we please have a round of applause for these faithful--?”
Before he could utter the final words, the room was deafened with a round of applause that shook the very chandeliers in their sockets. Elizabeth and Haley clapped soundly, proud to know a member of the CEA.
As the applause subsided, the first lady stepped toward the microphone, whispering a word in her husband’s ear. He nodded and stepped away, and she took his place.
“My dear fellow Americans,” she said, and her voice rang sweetly in the room. It was the scent of fresh daisies in March, the silken feel of a satin sheet, the taste of a chocolate strawberry. It was rather a song than a voice; it hung in the air like music, as if prodigy Mozart himself sat at a grand piano and played the keys. The people leaned in unconsciously, as her voice awakened their eyes and minds. She was a doll, a dream, a figment of the imagination, until she spoke and exhibited herself to be, in fact, real.
“I thank you all deeply for your effort in being here tonight. We honor the members of the CEA and their work. As my husband has declared, they are absolutely vital to the function of this great nation. I am deeply indebted to them—they let my husband sleep occasionally.” She smiled with her red lips and the company engaged her with rapt chuckles.
“We are bound to succeed with them at our helm—and to that, I will raise a toast. Please, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, and took into her gloved hand one of the three glasses of champagne instantly offered her by the waiter nearby, “Please raise an honest glass to the hard working men and women of this Council. They work so tirelessly for us, and now let us honor them.” She threw back her beautiful chin, raising her glass, and “hear, hear” echoed around the room as the champagne flowed.
“Now, I have been assigned the important task of recognizing those among the Council who have, this year, most especially contributed through specialized projects to the efforts of this executive branch,” she continued once the noise had abated somewhat. “It is my pleasure to announce the names of three individuals who have far exceeded the duties asked of them, who have truly devoted themselves to this cause. Will the esteemed Elaina Boonton, Joseph Spencer, and Carlos Melendez please stand, and let’s give them a round of applause for their particular contributions to this Council!”
Again she raised her glass, and the room again exploded in applause. Carlos stood quietly, and Haley and Elizabeth clapped loudly for their friend. Landon smiled proudly at Carlos and patted him on the shoulder as Carlos modestly took his seat again.
The President and First Lady returned to their seats amidst applause. More champagne flowed, and the room became increasingly fluid in the eyes of the attendees. Gowns shimmered, jewels sparkled, bubbles rose in the fluted glasses. The chandeliers above cast flattering lights on the party below, and all was soft jazz and delicate flavors and warm comfort of drinks.
Elizabeth and Haley chatted with the other members of their table. They ate and drank, enjoying the sights and sounds. There were several Generals, Senators, and Members of Congress in attendance, and even a Supreme Court Justice.
Elizabeth excused herself to go find the restroom. She had been drinking steadily and, not having had much for dinner, felt the champagne effects in a pleasant fuzziness. Having been in the Eisenhower building a few times before, she knew where the bathrooms were located. Making her way through the crowd, she slipped from the room and down the hallway with the white and black checkered floor until she reached a wooden door across from a winding staircase.
Elizabeth fumbled at the door, leaning her weight against it clumsily. She stumbled inside--and stopped. This was not a bathroom, this was an office. She must have gone the wrong way down the corridor. Soft plush carpet covered the floor and thick drapes hung from the ceiling. Military plaques lined the wall. This must belong to some high-ranking official. Her curiosity piqued, she shut the door behind her and walked toward one of the windows, turning on her phone flashlight to examine a heavy plaque covered in
gold that was fastened to the wall, attempting to read the deep inscription.
It is never wise to enclose oneself in a room in which one does not belong, but Elizabeth was inebriated just enough to forget this time-tested principle. She was standing in front of the plaque, holding up her phone’s flashlight to read the scripted award, when she heard a voice approaching, and the doorknob turning. Quickly turning off the flashlight, she slid behind a drape, pressing herself to the glass behind and waiting with sudden dread, that horrible pit in one’s stomach when one realizes their error.
The door opened. It shut. There was a shuffling footstep soft in the carpet, and another, and someone sighed heavily.
3. Behind the Drapes
“Some secrets are meant to be known- but once known you can never forget them.”
― Pseudonymous Bosch, The Name of This Book Is Secret
“No one, no one.”
It was the unmistakably deep voice of the Chief of Staff, Snyder Reed. Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. She wished she could be anywhere else in the world.
“Come on, cheer up. Tell me, what’s wrong?”
It was still Reed, he must be on the phone. A long pause.
“Well what are you worried for, then?” He said patiently.
Another pause.
“I’m not worried, and you shouldn’t be either. This is an unprecedented event. It is flawlessly done, there are no loose strings.”
Pause.
“Sweetheart, calm down,” he continued, speaking coolly and collectedly. His voice grew so soft that Elizabeth could barely hear it. “Yes, this is a secure line. Now, I spoke to the generals and I spoke to everyone I needed to at the Pentagon and the one at Quantico, today. We are completely prepared for this. Nothing will go wrong. It’s done so flawlessly. They’re all ready for it - as ready as they’ve been since the day we started the movement. We are about to witness the greatest social change this country has ever seen. It will be rough going at first, but when it’s all over, the survivors are going to bring this country back to what it was before - powerful, smart, strong. And you and me - we will be right on the front lines of making it like that.”
