During the quick trip up, no one said a word. The first security guard left the elevator and motioned for Blayne and Ethan to follow. The hall looked like a security convention. Blayne and Ethan walked through the security line to the door that was propped open. Ethan knocked twice and walked right in.
“Good morning,” Rawlins said as Blayne and Ethan entered. A buffet was set up, and Rawlins gestured. “Breakfast?”
The smell of coffee filled Blayne’s nose, and he looked to find a fancy silver coffee chafer urn. “Thanks,” he said to Rawlins and went right to the urn. Ethan was right behind him. Blayne turned and looked at Ethan. “What happened to that cup of coffee you were going to brew me?”
“Uh…I got a text from Stephanie to turn on RTN.”
“That would do it.”
“How’d you two sleep?” Stephanie asked. He hadn’t even seen Kira and Stephanie standing in the room because of his coffee tunnel vision.
“Fine. We both slept well.”
“You?” Ethan asked.
“I think I spooked at every noise. I ended up tossing and turning half the night,” Stephanie admitted.
“And you?” Ethan turned to Kira, who had joined them. “You sleep, okay?”
“After dinner, I responded to some work emails. By the time my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.”
“If everyone can finish getting their breakfasts and take a seat,” Hightower said loudly over the conversations in the room.
Blayne went over to the buffet, dished out some scrambled eggs and grabbed a couple of biscuits and three slices of bacon. Ethan had opted for a yogurt parfait. Blayne shot him a questioning look.
“How can you eat anything after last night’s dinner?” Ethan asked.
“I’m a growing boy,” Blayne joked.
Ethan led Blayne over to the table, and they sat in the empty seats next to each other. Blayne doubted this seating arrangement had been an accident.
“Thank you for coming,” Rawlins said. “As you know, someone filmed the attack at the White House yesterday, so inquiries are flowing in from around the globe. Mr. Dickenson,” Rawlins said, turning to look at Blayne, “with your permission, we’d like to filter all media inquiries for you to the same team that handles Ethan.”
“Do I really need—?” Blayne asked.
“Yes,” Hightower, who sat at the other end of the table, confirmed. “For one, you’re part of our family now. We want to make sure everyone around this table is protected. And two, you will be inundated with media requests. And unless you want to be dodging the press left and right, it’s best to have someone you can direct them to.”
Blayne turned and looked at Ethan, who gave him a reassuring smile and a nod. “Okay.”
“Great,” Rawlins said. “You’ve been asked to return to the White House this morning.”
“What?” Ethan asked. “Why?”
Rawlins looked to Hightower. “I took that phone call. The White House wants everything to be business as usual. Obviously, they cannot have the fancy reception they were hoping for. However, they still want to give you your awards in a much smaller, more controlled environment. They want to keep it very small. Just you, the President and the First Lady. Mr. J. will drive you to the White House. He will hand you off to the Secret Service, who will take you into the East Wing to the First Lady’s personal offices. The White House’s social media team will broadcast the ceremony live. It will be more subdued than yesterday…given everything that happened.”
“Okay,” Ethan said.
“We can’t exactly wear what we did yesterday. And I didn’t bring another dress outfit,” Blayne admitted.
“Actually,” Rawlins said, “I think what you’re both wearing right now is perfect. The boy-next-door look is exactly what the White House wants. It’s all about optics. Despite what happened yesterday, everyone is still working. Our country is still running.”
Blayne would never get used to the world of public relations. He just nodded. Ethan reached under the table and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the knee.
Rawlins and Hightower then discussed the security changes that would happen at their concert venue. Toward the end of the conversation, Ethan jumped into the conversation.
“We had an idea last night,” he said.
“Oh?” Hightower asked.
