Page 35 of Campaign Season
“Must be busy there. Is Cooper excited?”
“Cooper is at Cassidy’s house helping Mackenzie get ready for a party. I don’t even know what he is dressing up as. Apparently, he and Mackenzie have some master plan.”
Jonathan chuckled.
“Jameson just strolled in here as a Hungry Hippo.”
“A what?”
“A Hungry Hippo. From that board game the kids all love. She’s going trick-or-treating with Michelle and Melanie.”
“I’ll bet that’s a first for the Secret Service. Safeguarding a hippo.”
Candace laughed.
“Thanks for calling,” Jonathan said.
“Tell me if there is anything more I can do?”
“Take pictures,” he said. “Of the Secret Service and the hippo.”
Candace shook her head. “I’ll see what I can do. Call me if you need anything.”
“I’ll see you later this week.”
“You will.”
“Candy?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“For everything. We had some good times. We have great kids,” he said.
“Yes. We do.”
“I love you. I hope you know that. I know I wasn’t always?—”
“I love you too, Jon. We’ve landed in a good place—all of us. What more can anyone really ask for?”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“See you then.”
“Send me pictures!” he said before hanging up.
Candace set down the phone and closed her eyes. “God, let us make it through this week.”
Arlington, Virginia
Candace would never again know the luxury of anonymity. She missed the small freedoms that once stitched her life together—sliding behind the wheel of her own car, showing up at a friend’s door unannounced, or running to the store simply because she felt like it. How ironic that ascending to the most powerful office in the nation had stripped her of the most ordinary liberties.
Now, the armored presidential limousine—“the Beast,” as everyone called it—served as her second office. Its backseat had become a place of necessity rather than comfort: a desk for policy briefs, a line for calls she couldn’t ignore, and a cocoon for the occasional stolen nap. But nothing about her movements could ever be subtle. Every arrival was an event, whether she wished it or not.
That was why she had hesitated about tonight. Only Cassidy’s persistence—and Jameson’s gentle insistence—had convinced her to attend the Toles’ Halloween gathering. At least their home was nearby, along a route her Secret Service team knew well. By arriving before the neighborhood kids descended, she could avoid creating a spectacle. Cassidy had promised her a glass of wine on the patio before the chaos began—a small mercy, but one Candace craved, especially with Jonathan’s words from that morning still echoing in her mind.
