Page 1 of Revisions

Chapter One

Jameson

I’ve never quite understood people’s fascination with me—other than to wonder how I captured someone like Candace. Most people I meet imagine my life as the spouse of the President of the United States to be filled with perks and luxury. I’ll admit it does come with its advantages. I don’t have to do Cooper’s laundry, and I can call the kitchen for a meal whenever I want. The White House is filled with amenities, but none of them compare to the freedom of taking a walk alone or being able to order pizza delivery without any advance notice. Please don’t get me wrong; I don’t regret the life I’ve chosen. It’s hardly the one I pictured when I arrived at Senator Candace Fletcher’s doorstep ten years ago.

I arrived intending to win the senator over with my professional skills, hoping to land a fun project to remodel her historic home. The last thing I expected was a remodel of my life. Falling in love wasn’t on my to-do list. If I’ve learned anything these past ten years, it’s to expect the unexpected. I’ll let you in on a secret I don’t share with many people. I knew my life was about to change when Candace opened her door. I can’t say Iimagined being married to the President of the United States, raising a nine-year-old, and being agrandmotherthat first day. I knew I wanted to be with Candace, and I’ve never looked back.

I’m likely the most unlikely First Lady in history. I’m sure Martha Washington never envisioned a pair of lesbians roaming these halls. And I seriously doubt that Jackie Kennedy thought one of her successors would wander the corridors in jeans and a tool belt on the way to tinker with the sink in the president’s bathroom. Or maybe they did. Who knows? The longer I’m here, the more I understand what it takes to make this place tick. I don’t mean the White House. I mean the country.

Candace left yesterday to spend a few days on the campaign trail with congressional hopefuls. I’m headed to give an interview to a “viral” podcaster. I asked Shell if I should wear a mask. She didn’t find my question funny. I suppose podcast appearances are cheaper than renting a billboard to blast our family secrets. I don’tdisliketalking to people. I still worry I’ll say something that will cause Candace issues. For example, the name of this podcast isThe Late Great America.What on earth does that even mean?The Late Great America? I expect he’ll ask me about that: America in days gone by. Shell assured me she made clear what questions were off-limits. Thatsoundsgreat. Shell can’t control what happens in an interview. That much, I know.

“Hey.”

Dana. I should feel guilty that Candace lost her biggest asset. Dana worked for Candace for over twenty years. But in this case, the president’s loss is the first lady’s gain, and I’m happy for the win. Dana is a pro. No. Dana isthepro for handling the press and shaping public perception. She resisted Shell’s idea of me doing this interview.

“Hey, Dana.”

“Nervous?” she asks.

“No. You know what Candace would say,” I offer.

“Ah. You’re aware.”

“Aware that I need to be on alert,” I tell her. “You didn’t want Shell to set this up. You still haven’t told me the reason.”

“Jay Ivey is unpredictable, JD. He likes to stir the pot.”

“Great.” She means the shit pot.

“You can handle him.”

“Uh-huh.Candacecould handle him.”

Dana laughs. “If I didn’t think you could field whatever he throws at you, you wouldn’t be doing this,” she says.

I wish I had Dana’s confidence. Usually, we prepare for interviews and appearances. The last few weeks have moved at a maddening pace. Candace’s schedule is always demanding. Campaign season only adds to that. I’ve been on kid duty. Not that I’m complaining. I make time every morning to be in my office, but honestly, I function more as support for my staff. They’re incredibly capable and energetic. Candace and I agreed when she sought the presidency that my priority would be the family. I haven’t had time to review podcasts. Maybe it would be more accurate to admit I didn’t have any inclination to make time to watchThe Late Great America.I probably should have.

“JD, come on. You’re a pro.”

I laugh.

“You are,” Dana assures me. “Just be yourself.”

“Mm. Tell me something.”

“If I can.”

“What do you think this Jason Ivey hopes to get out of our conversation?” I’m genuinely curious.

“Exposure.”

“Great.”

“JD, at the end of the day, that’s what they all want,” Dana says.

I’ve learned a lot from Candace over the years. It might sound cynical to say everyone has an agenda, but it’s not—it’s just the truth. That doesn’t mean every agenda is sinister. At its core, an agenda is simply a purpose.

When Cooper and Spencer shuffle into my office, looking sheepish, they have an agenda. Maybe they’re hoping I’ll take them somewhere or grant permission for something Candace would likely refuse. Candace has an agenda whenever she calls a meeting—usually, it’s to get honest information.

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