“Yes,sir.”
Burwell didn’t back off. Jamie shared a look with Kyle, who didn’t bother to hide his amused smirk. “I think he’s still pissed we gave him the slipyesterday.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie saw Burwell force back a scowl. “You’re probablyright.”
They’d flown back to D.C. Tuesday morning, where Jamie had barred the Secret Service from his condo, but couldn’t keep them out of the apartment building’s main security control room. It took Katie hacking into the system to upload a loop of all public spaces to hide their movement and guide them around the Secret Service setting up a perimeter and patrol in order for Donovan to pick them up outside the emergency exit. Nazari had been expecting them for a debrief and hadn’t wanted anytagalongs.
Jamie had received an annoyed call from his father about his Secret Service detail having lost him on home territory. Jamie didn’t apologize to anyone when they arrived back at the condo hours later. Burwell had bluntly requested Jamie never do it again, to which Jamie had only smiled and promised nothing. Kyle had wandered away laughing, not endearing him to the Secret Service in any way, but Jamie didn’t care. His father could assign him the security detail, but that didn’t mean he’d make it easyonthem.
“It’s a lot smaller than I thought it would be,” Kyle said, squinting at the sprawling building and the stage set up outside in the loading area. “Figured your father preferred convention centers and thingslikethat.”
“Campaign speeches with the American working class always play well in the media. The more intimate the space, the better,”Jamiesaid.
The logistics of the campaign speech would be handled by campaign workers and overseen by Juan, Richard’s campaign manager. Jamie’s father would be ensconced somewhere off to the side for last-minute tweaks on the speech with his speech writer before going on a tour of the facility that would end on stage with a stump speech about jobs. Or the economy. Or whatever the polls said was the top trending topic oftheweek.
It wasn’t Jamie’s job to figure out the nitty-gritty details of a political campaign. His job was to smile and look pretty for thecameras.
Ariella Eichen, his mother’s executive assistant, cut through a group of chatting people and waved at him. A short woman known for her ridiculously high-heeled shoes, the thirty-five-year-old brunette had been working for his mother in a personal capacity for the past ten years and was a familiar face around the Callahanfamily.
“There you are, Jamie!”Ariellasaid.
Jamie signaled Kyle to follow him as he made his way to Ariella. She flashed Jamie a quick smile before rattling off a list of updates about the day’s schedule as she led them inside the manufacturing plant. He ignored the curious looks cast his way by a couple of Sun Tech employees, careful to keep his expressionneutral.
“You’ll join your father for the tour of the plant,” Ariella said, eyes on the timeline scrolling between her fingers and the data rings she wore. “Kyle will remain with me until the photo ops are finished. The speech will begin at two o’clocksharp.”
Jamie nodded along, knowing better than to argue against anything his parents had already approved. “Just tell me where I needtobe.”
It turned out she needed him for some old-fashioned glad-handing to talk up his father to company workers. Kyle unobtrusively slipped away from his side, blending into the background while Jamie introduced himself to local voters. Leah and his mother were doing the same, all three of them meeting up in the crowd, discreetly surrounded by the SecretService.
“How are you, Mother?” Jamie asked, bending a little to kiss her on thecheek.
“Well enough, thank you,” Charlotte responded with a practicedsmile.
All of them had been playing the happy, loving family for years in front of the cameras. The fault lines snaking between them from decisions made and fought over were never shown to the public. No matter the tension, the Callahans always showcased a unitedfront.
It was that kind of solidarity that Richard walked into for the cameras to see. One big happy family that the press pool and voters ate up. Richard might have been a billionaire senator who would never know what it was like to be poor, but he promised economic fixes and a better platform than his rivals, or so he believed andpreached.
Jamie knew his father’s talking points like the back of his hand, and could shore up anything he said with supportive sound bites that the reporters traveling in the press pool recordedreligiously.
Richard waved at the crowd and the reporters when he arrived before introducing himself to Sun Tech management. Jamie remained on the sidelines with his mother and sister as Richard initiated overtures that led into the tour of the facility. Jamie put on an attentive face as they walked the length and breadth of the processing plant, introducing themselves to workers still on shift, while the press pool snapped enough holopics to satisfy even the most demandingeditor.
A familiar face caught Jamie’s eye halfway through the tour. Adam Dixon was back in the press pool it looked like, wary attention half on the Callahans and half on Kyle, who was conversing quietly with Ariella. She didn’t look pleased at whatever Kyle was telling her, shooting dagger-eyes at Dixon, but Jamie was glad someone was warning the campaign about Dixon’s presence. Ever since the rocky attempt at an exposé on Jamie in January, his family had been cool toward the media in general, andThe New York Timesinparticular.
This was exactly why having too many different stories churning in the public domain could cause a problem. The MDF couldn’t stretch the lies very far anymore and Jamie hoped the director would soon turn his attention to figuring out how to extricate the team and his family fromthismess.
As they walked through the public control areas where a dozen workers monitored the robotic assembly line, Jamie dropped back enough to match pace with Kyle. He quirked an eyebrow in a silentquestion.
“It’s handled,” Kyle muttered under his breath, so low only Jamie could hear him. “Ariella said they’ll look into Dixon’s access. Can’t revoke it right now because it’ll cause ascene.”
Jamie nodded. Revoking any press pass was a public relations nightmare. Freedom of the press was enshrined in the country’s Constitution, but that wouldn’t matter if the Callahans banned a particular reporter from the press pool for violating privacy laws somewhere else entirely. The negative news stories would be fodder for at least a week and would need to be countered. That particular story, if it came to pass, would focus on Jamie, and he didn’t have the time to deal with the attention it wouldbring.
“A pity,” Jamiemurmured.
“Ariella is telling Juan. Your father’s campaign manager will make the finaldecision.”
“Allright.”
With that issue momentarily handled, Jamie rejoined his family, pretending to be interested in what Sun Tech management had to say about providing jobs for Americans. Which, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t that many since manufacturing was automated on a mass scale these days. But talking about jobs helped the poll numbers, which meant Jamie had to nod his way through the small talk and pose for pictures intheend.
