“I will do my best,” Jordan says, “but Kevin’s participation will be up to Christopher Bruunt.”
She arches an eyebrow. “So Iwasright about him?”
Jordan shrugs with that playful little smile he has. “It’s not my place to confirm or deny anything, ma’am.”
She grins. “You can get me Christopher Bruunt’s private number?”
He whips out his phone and reads it off to her as she punches it into her contacts.
“And I can tell him you gave me that number?” she asks.
“Sure.”
“Any advice?” she asks Jordan.
Leo and I are left observing as Jordan does what he does best.
“I would leave your request open-ended. Kev won’t want to be roped into an official position. Name him an advisor, special counsel to the VP—whatever you want to call it. He’ll be happier and more efficient operating in the shadows, not in the public thick of it. He’ll likely do network hits for you but for day-to-day, he’ll want to remain fairly anonymous.”
“Any chance I can talk him into chief of staff if I can’t get Casey-Marie to do it?”
“Declan,” he says. “I think he’ll be your strongest shot. And he’ll be able to keep working here right up until the transition. Continuity. I suspect Casey-Marie will be ready to take time off once Elliot’s second term ends.”
“Declan can do it?”
Jordan snorts. “He’s nearly as vicious as Casey-Marie. Unleash that man, give him free rein, and you’ll have people shitting themselves the way Casey-Marie does.”
“Good to know. Jordan, I’ll call you later today and let you know my decision.” She glances at all of us, smiling. “Good day, gentlemen.” Then she’s out the door, closing it behind her.
Leo’s the one who breaks first, laughing so hard he has to drop onto the sofa while Jordan and I watch.
“What’s so funny?” I finally ask.
“That man issooofucked,” Leo observes when he can finally speak again.
“Who, Kev?” I ask. Leo shakes his head. “Declan?”
He snorts. “Ciro.” He crooks a finger at Jordan, who climbs into his lap and wraps his arms around Leo’s neck. “You have no idea how powerful you are, do you, baby? I don’t just mean in this room. I mean in DC politics.”
Jordan shrugs, back to our innocent, beautiful boy. “I really don’t care, Daddy.”
And that’s the truth—Jordan honestly doesn’t care how much pull or power he has. It’s a means to an end for him.
That end is taking care of us in general, and me in particular.
He kisses Leo before snuggling his face against the side of Leo’s neck, dropping me a playful wink as he does. “I just want to get us through the next few years without pissing her off. She’s scary.”
I walk over and sit next to Leo. “Scarier than Casey-Marie?” I ask.
He hesitates. “Asscary. In different ways.” He sighs. “I can’t wait to watch her make that bitchy first lady of Russia cry like a little girl.”
A laugh barks free from Leo. “The Russian first lady? Fuck that, she’s going to make thepresidentof Russia cry like a little girl.”
CHAPTERSIXTY
It’sno surprise to any of us that Ily calls Jordan two hours later to tell him yes, Ciro’s running, and she’ll be in touch with a proposed timeline for making the announcement.
Ciro officially declares on the first of December, the day after the public lighting of the White House Christmas tree. I’m the one who introduces him at the event, a surprise appearance Jordan coordinates with Ily.
