Page 8 of Enemy of My Enemy
Thinking of you. Hope your first day is going great, love!
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Chapter 2
White House West Wing
“We’ve got a packed morning,Mr. President.”
Lawrence Irwin, Jack’s chief of staff and former director of the CIA, bustled into the Oval Office, over a dozen of Jack’s staff trailing behind him.
Noticeably absent was Glen Green, as of Saturday, the former vice president.
Jack waved good morning and gestured to the couches, waiting for his team to settle in and get comfortable. Most had already been working for hours, though it was still early. As a rule, Jack had three carafes of coffee waiting for his staff each morning.
Pete Reyes was the first to grab a cup before he leaned back with a heavy sigh. His shirt was rumpled, partially untucked in the back, and his tie was loose.
“Long night, Pete?” Jack tried to smile as he leaned back against his desk. Pete had to deal with the immediate reaction and outcry from his and Ethan’s actions every time. White House press secretary wasn’t an easy job by any stretch, but Jack and Ethan had made Pete’s job infinitely harder. Some days, Jack wondered when Pete would throw in the towel.
“Long weekend, Mr. President.”
“Do you think we’ve seen the worst of it so far?” Irwin, sitting across from Pete, leaned forward with his padfolio balanced on his knees and peered over his glasses at Pete.
“God, no,” Pete scoffed. “They’re just getting going.”
“Who?” Irwin frowned.
“Everybody. The press. Congress. The governors. State legislatures. Foreign press. Private blogs. Your grandma.” Pete closed his eyes and let his head fall back, sinking into the couch cushions as he spoke to the ceiling. “This is going to be an epic bloodbath.”
Irwin’s gaze pinched.
Jack busied himself in the heavy silence that followed, wheeling his desk chair around to sit with those clustered around the couches and chairs in the center of the Oval Office. Lewis Parr, secretary of defense, held out one of the carafes to Jack with a question.
He shook his head with a smile. “Good morning,” Jack said again, nodding as he sat. “Let’s have it. Hit me.”
Irwin went first, summarizing Congress’s reaction to Glen Green’s resignation. “Congressional leadership is already making noise about replacing Green. They want a name by the end of the week. Confirmation hearings within the month.”
“Let’s beat them. I want a shortlist of candidates by the afternoon. I’ve got a few people in mind, but I want to see what you put together.”
Pete spoke next, rising like a broken marionette from his slump on the couch to hunch over his coffee cup as he poured a refill. “Media reports are still in a state of shock. We’re seeing a sixty-forty split of negative to positive press. The loudest commentators right now are calling this an illegal move. Saying that he doesn’t qualify as a member of the first family and doesn’t belong in the White House, or as the first gentleman.”
Diana Ramirez, his White House counsel, jumped in, “We reviewed the law extensively before the announcement. Public law 95-70, Section 105, subsection E. ‘If the president does not have a spouse, such assistance and services—such as those provided by the office of the first lady, or the first gentleman—may be provided for such purposes by a member of the president’s family whom the president designates.’”
“It’s the word ‘family’,” Pete said, squinting. He held up his fingers as if he could grab the word between his index and thumb. “They don’t believe that Mr. Reichenbach qualifies as a member of the president’s family.”
“Federal law has historically been overinclusive when defining ‘family.’” Ramirez nodded to Jack. “There’s more than enough precedent in current statute to take this to court. A same-sex partner in a committed, long-term relationship qualifies as a member of the family, according to numerous federal agencies and regulations.”
“Long-term?” Pete frowned again. “Do we have a definition of long-term? Because, Mr. President, that’s probably the second most asked question I get. How long have you two been together? Do we meet the definition of long-term?”
“It’s open to interpretation.” Ramirez spoke before Jack could. “There’s more flexibility when it’s not defined.”
“Could also come back to bite us in the—”
“All right,” Jack said over Pete. “All right, thank you both. Pete, you know my policy. No comment on my personal life, and that includes how long Ethan and I have been together.”
A heavy sigh as Pete looked down at the carpet. “Yes, Mr. President.” He squinted back at Ramirez. “Can I quote you on that? Give that statute to the press?”
Ramirez looked first to Jack, who answered for her. “Yes, please do, Pete. But keep it low-key. You know my limits.”
