Welcome to romantic fiction serial White House Rhapsody. Love in the White House? Who would have thought. Join us as President Mark Jerguessen and his aide World Affairs Advisor Sharon Wheatly try to navigate a relationship. Click here to read a synopsis of the whole story that’s been blogged so far.
Matt joined Mark at the White House on Friday evening, as school had let out for the Winter holidays. Mark was happy to see his nephew, but relieved on Saturday morning when June took Matt back to Minnesota to visit with Mark’s father and otherwise get ready for Christmas at the end of the following week. Mark was set to join them closer to the holiday.
He spent Saturday night at Sharon’s place, but had to go back to the White House on Sunday morning, so he could be seen going to church. Sharon went into the office, but then slid up to the residence later that afternoon.
Monday morning, Mark called both Sharon and Karen Tanaka into the Oval Office.
“I’ve got some good news,” he told the two after they’d gotten settled on the large couch with full coffee mugs in front of them. “It’s about the media training idea I had earlier this month. I’ve found four potential consultants, but I’m so busy with pre-holiday appearances, I won’t have time to do any of the interviews.”
“Oh.” Sharon looked non-plussed.
Karen sighed. “We’re not exactly swimming in free time, either, sir.”
“I know.” Mark looked a little guilty. “But you’re both going to have to work with whoever gets picked, so I figured it would be better if you had some say in that.”
Sharon caught the quick glint in his eyes. “You’ve got a point about that. Have the interviews been set up yet?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. The rundown is showing a pretty light day after the Advisory Board meeting. Johnnie checked with Julie and Dieter.” (Dieter was Karen’s secretary.) “And they both said your calendars are clear for meetings.”
“Then I guess I’m on.” Sharon looked over at Karen. “What about you?”
“I’ll make it work.” Karen sighed. “You’re right. It needs to be done.”
Late the next afternoon, the two crashed in Karen’s office, their respective tablets in their hands. Sharon glared at the note page she had open.
“All right,” she said. “We’ve got four good candidates. Did any one of them stand out?”
“Not really.” Karen made a face. “Maybe we should clarify what we need this person to do.”
“Media strategy and image management.” Sharon sighed. “Which doesn’t mean much on the surface. But it’s something Jugs said to me when he came up with this idea. It’s about being able to choose what we want the rest of the world to see and what we want to keep private. And being able to deal with it when something breaks that isn’t so complimentary.”
“Like Lady Beverly getting fat-shamed.”
“Exactly.”
“Hm. We also need someone with a good sense of humor.” Karen stared at her tablet.
“They all seemed a little earnest.” Sharon shook her head. “I wonder how much of that is being at the White House?”
“You’d think Petra Wozniak wouldn’t be that overwhelmed.” Karen sighed. “She worked on Jugs’ campaign, you know.”
“And she seemed to be the most serious. What about Lu Fong?”
“I liked her, but I don’t think she has enough experience.”
The conversation continued in that vein until the two finally selected Carlynn Dobbs, a middle-aged woman with experience both in politics and the entertainment industry. They had to wait until Mark returned from a visit to a day care center to present their choice.
Mark approved, then Sharon said that she had some other notes to go over with him regarding the coming trip to Australia in mid-January. Mark dismissed Karen.
“How are you feeling about the training?” he asked once they were alone.
“Okay enough.” Sharon made a face. “I liked all of them, really. Carlynn just seemed to have a deeper breadth of experience.”
“I meant about needing to have it.”
Sharon smiled at him. “I’m getting used to it. But maybe I can hang onto keeping this quiet for a bit longer.” She frowned. “When do you leave for Christmas?”
“Tomorrow.” Mark sighed. “I really wish you could come with me.”
“I wish I could, too. But Michael would be upset. He’s really been looking forward to having us all in New York.”
“I’d rather be there, myself.” Mark made a face. “But I like being with Dad and June. It’s a nice, quiet day.” He pulled her close to him. “Why don’t you head upstairs in a bit, and we’ll make dinner together?”
Sharon grinned. “With or without Solly?”
Mark grinned back. “Definitely without.”
Sharon ended up spending the night. Mark didn’t think much about it when Sharon’s phone rang sometime after three a.m. It happened regularly. She woke and grabbed for it.
“Wheatly,” she grumbled into the phone.
Mark wasn’t sure, but thought she was speaking German. He was about to roll over when her voice took on an anxious tone. A minute later, she’d ended the call and dialed again.
“What’s going on?” Mark asked.
“You’ll find out in a second.” Sharon listened. “Johnnie, so sorry to wake you, but the boss needs to know. Our ambassador to Germany got kidnapped in Berlin… I just got the call from the German authorities… Should I call Jean…? Fine. I’ll do that. I’ll also check in with Dan, although I’m guessing he’s already heard… Okay. I’ll give you a minute to talk to him then. Bye.”
“Crap,” Mark muttered as Sharon got out of bed.
“I’d better get dressed and down to my office,” Sharon said.
Mark’s phone rang and he sighed as Sharon slid into the bathroom.
The news from Germany was not good. Ambassador Earnestine Petersen had been kidnapped while leaving the embassy to take her morning walk. Masked attackers had jumped on Petersen in front of several aides and other witnesses, and dragged the ambassador into a nearby van. The German authorities identified the van as having been licensed in Germany, but it had been stolen a week or so before from a small delivery service in the capital. The service’s owners had been horrified.
Sharon had the television in her office tuned to the German news channel and only stopped watching when Mark called her for updates. Secretary of State Dan Friedman arrived in Sharon’s office shortly after nine in the morning. Sharon was on the phone with Wanda Dereske, the CIA expert who was Military Expert Al Eddington’s second in command.
“Anything?” Dan asked as Sharon swiped off her phone.
“Nothing.” Sharon slid around her desk in the narrow, but long space. “We have no idea who did it or why. Petersen’s family hasn’t heard anything. The embassy hasn’t heard anything. Most of the animal rights people that were behind the vandalism at the embassy last month are still in jail, and the others appear to have alibis.”
“It’s not like there’s any dearth of anti-American sentiment out there,” said Dan, a smallish man with dark curly hair and ugly glasses. “But why now and why our German ambassador?”
Sharon shook her head. “Good question. Wanda is checking every activist group she can think of. We’ve got feelers out everywhere. I’ve got my entire team looking for anything that anyone anywhere is pissed at.”
“So have I.” Dan frowned. “But most of the terrorist groups know we won’t negotiate, so what good would it do to take someone instead of a straight-up assassination?” He sank into one of the chairs next to the desk. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Sharon frowned. “Could it be something personal?”
“I would almost have to say it is, but we don’t know enough yet.”
The day dragged on. The only good part of the situation, as far as Sharon was concerned, was that Mark decided to stay in Washington until the ambassador was recovered.
Mark called Petersen’s family in the U.S. But beyond that, there wasn’t much anyone in the West Wing could actively do. FBI and CIA agents were investigating, and reportedly working with the German police. Sharon and her European expert Raul Mendoza kept up on the German’s investigation from the situation room. Mark was there in the spare basement space. So were Chief of Staff Johnnie Washington, Al Eddington, Wanda Dereske, and a couple of generals whose names Sharon missed, and the directors of the FBI and CIA.
At seven o’clock that night, Miles Fanning, the CIA director, pointed out that the Germans would not be doing much in the way of investigating, as it was one a.m. there.
“I think we should all try to get some sleep,” Mark said.
“We should probably stay close by,” said Miriam Santos, the FBI director. “It’s possible we could break something on this side of the Atlantic.”
Mark nodded. “I’ll get some cots ordered. In the meantime, you’re all dismissed long enough to get some comfortable clothes and a change of underwear. Does that work?”
It was generally agreed that would work, although based on the look on Mark’s face, Sharon guessed that he thought the others were just going along with what he said. Mark went up to his bedroom. Sharon went to her townhouse, never mind that she had several changes of clothes in Mark’s room. When she got back to the White House, the cots were set up in the situation room around the conference table, which now held two chafing dishes, a bowl filled with a salad, and a large air pot of coffee, along with plates, cups, silverware, and napkins.
Sharon couldn’t help smiling. It was exactly the sort of thing Mark would have thought of, or at least okayed when Solly, the White House chef, brought it up. At the same time, she had a bad feeling she knew was Mark was doing at that moment. She filled her plate with the chicken stew and vegetables, but waited until she’d eaten to text Mark.
Sharon – Let me guess. You’re looking out a window right now.
Mark – Who? Me? Yeah.
Sharon – This one wasn’t your fault.
Mark – True. But not stopping me from worrying.
Sharon – So not surprised.
Mark – Why I love you.
Sharon – And that you care so much is why I love you.
She went to her cot quickly, but it was still so early, it was hard to sleep. Wanda and Santos conferred quietly in a corner shortly before nine that night.
“We might have something,” Santos announced. “That animal rights group that was vandalizing the embassies all this past year? Turns out their leader in Berlin is connected to a former employee at the embassy. She’s the sister of Lee Hoffsteder. He was fired last spring for inappropriate behavior, and was not happy about it.”
Sharon checked her phone. “It’s almost three a.m. there.”
“I’ll call the boss and see what he wants to do,” Johnnie said, getting her phone out.
Minutes later, Mark was back in the situation room. Sharon called the German premier’s office. The others watched as she went back and forth in German for several minutes, then she nodded. She swiped off, but held off any questions as she dialed again.
“Das ist gut,” she said after swiping off the second call.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark not quite chuckling, and she suddenly realized she was still speaking German.
“Well?” Wanda demanded. She was a short, somewhat rounded Black woman with the charm of a traditional Southern lady and the grit, as well.
“The good news is that they were happy to take our tip,” Sharon said slowly.
“And the bad news?” Mark asked.
Sharon made a face. “We still don’t know where or why they’re keeping Ambassador Petersen.”
“Why is irrelevant,” Al snapped.
“Unless it helps us figure out where she’s being held,” Santos said.
“Except that it’s still the middle of the night in Germany,” grumbled Miles Fanning.
“They’re pulling an all-nighter just like we are,” Sharon said.
Raul cleared his throat. “They don’t want it to look like they don’t support our current president.”
“Which is not a bad thing,” Mark said quickly and perhaps a little more loudly than necessary. “In any case, we’ve got at least another three hours before daylight in Germany. There’s an extra cot here. I’ll stay down here with you guys. Let’s get some sleep now so we’ll be awake if anything happens after daylight there. Sound good?”
Sharon smiled at him because it was the right decision, but she could tell that the fact that everyone else agreed with him outright did not make him happy.
The night crept along. Even though daylight in Germany happened around one a.m. Washington time, there wasn’t much more information coming in. As dawn in Washington filtered into the windows in the offices above them, someone muttered that it was Christmas Eve.
There were regular updates from the Germans, as well as the U.S. Army and other personnel working the investigation. The group in the situation room slept in shifts, or rather, tried to. The hours seemed to creep by. Sharon called her brother to let him know that the odds were not good that she’d be able to get to New York before Christmas Day.
– We’ll come down there, he texted back.
– NO!! Please don’t. I’m stuck at work until this is over.
– Okay
Sharon made a face, then watched Wanda talking to one of her contacts.
Close to one-thirty in the afternoon, Washington time, Sharon got a call on her phone, and after speaking in German for a moment, put the caller on hold.
“It’s Premier Hoffmann,” Sharon told the group. “He needs to ask Mark a couple things.”
Sharon put the call on speaker, then translated for Mark. The news was good, but a certain level of cooperation between the two governments was necessary. The details, however, were ironed out quickly, and then it was back to waiting. Finally, around three, the calls came in. The ambassador had been rescued and the kidnappers captured.
There were cheers, but subdued ones, thanks to the level of exhaustion in the room. Mark hurried upstairs to change into a suit as Johnnie called Press Secretary Jean Bouyer to set up the press conference. Mark was on the air within twenty minutes announcing the recovery of Ambassador Petersen, then thanking the German government for their help, and congratulating the American forces for their cooperation with the German authorities.
By the time everything was settled, and the rest of the staff sent home to get some sleep, it was after five o’clock. Sharon stayed behind to confer with Faiza Moussel, her Middle East expert who did not celebrate Christmas, about a minor matter. Sharon’s phone buzzed with a text. She yawned as she read it, then told Faiza that the two would talk after the New Year unless something happened.
Mark was waiting for her as she got off the elevator to the private residence. The two held each other for a minute or so.
“I’m guessing that you’re not flying off to Minnesota tonight?” Sharon asked when she could.
Mark’s chuckle was utterly weary. “My sweet, I am beyond beat. In fact, with your kind indulgence, I’m just going to heat up Tuesday’s leftovers for our dinner. Along with some paté that Solly left.”
“I’m surprised she’d not here waiting on you hand and foot.” Sharon leaned against him, feeling the weight of the past two days in every bone of her body.
“There may have been a touch of insubordination.” Mark shrugged. “Until I pointed out I might just have a reason why I didn’t want her around.”
Sharon giggled. “She is so on to us.”
“I know. But it’s convenient right now and I’m so tired, I don’t care.”
The meal was leisurely as the two blinked at each other, trying to stay awake long enough to get some food into their stomachs. Mark even left the dirty dishes next to the sink rather than cleaning them up, something he usually did religiously.
They were holding each other upright as they staggered toward the President’s Bedroom. At the door, though, Mark held Sharon back and looked upward.
Sharon blinked. “Mistletoe? Who put that there?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Mark yawned, then grinned at her. “I think I have just enough energy…”
The kiss was warm and full. What Mark and Sharon did not realize was that it was observed. They moved into the bedroom and stayed awake just long enough to change into nightclothes.
Down the hallway, however, June slid back into her bedroom. Although she had gone to Minnesota with Matt the day before, she and her father had agreed that the best way to support Mark would be for her to return to Washington to celebrate Christmas as much as they could. She’d only just arrived with the intent of surprising her brother with her loving presence.
Giggling with the utter joy of the discovery, June realized Mark had a lot more support and loving presence than she’d thought. She peeked out into the hall. The door to the President’s bedroom was just closing and the Marine guard hurried over and stood at attention. That kiss had looked pretty serious. And it was with Sharon, who had become one of June’s dearest friends. June couldn’t help dancing.
After the previous October and the supposedly failed attempt to get Mark and Sharon together, June had been afraid that she’d assumed the two had liked each other a lot more than they did. But that kiss – there was just something so sweet and loving about it. The two were in love, no doubt about it.
And Sharon had been so cagey about embracing being single the week before. It would have been nice if she’d said something. But then June’s heart fell. She knew why neither Sharon nor Mark had said anything about their relationship. It was simply too dangerous, given what her mother could and would do.
She looked back toward Mark’s bedroom. He’d recently hired an image consultant to run classes for the women working in the White House or otherwise connected to him. Could it be that he was grooming Sharon to go public? If the relationship looked as serious as that kiss hid, it seemed like the right next step.
She briefly flirted with the idea of surprising them at breakfast the next morning, but then discarded the idea. She didn’t know what Mark would do, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It was better to pretend that she didn’t know anything. Mark and Sharon had too much to lose.
Mark and Sharon slept fairly late Christmas morning, but then Sharon had to leave because her brother, his girlfriend, and daughters had arrived in DC to celebrate the holiday since Sharon was stuck in Washington. It was just as well. Mark needed to be seen at church, then wanted to spend time with June.
Mark flew out that next day to spend time in Minnesota with his father and Matt, but returned to the White House just in time to spend a night with Sharon before she flew out to California. Michael, her older brother and wealthy rock star, had scored a motel room in Pasadena along the famed Rose Parade route. The motel was possibly the only one in the city that had balconies overlooking Colorado Boulevard, which made those rooms exceedingly popular. Michael had gone to considerable trouble to get one of the balcony rooms, so Sharon felt obligated to join her family there for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.
It was chaotic and lovely, but Sharon was glad to head back to Washington as soon as she could get away.
Back in Pasadena, in the condo he owned there, Michael Wheatly glared at his younger daughter.
“I just asked if you had a boyfriend,” Michael groaned. “Not demanded that you get one.”
“But you don’t get it, Dad.” Jodi groaned. “I don’t need a boyfriend. I’m fine the way I am.”
“I wasn’t saying you weren’t.” Micheal paced the bright living room. “I was just trying to talk to you.”
“Then why did you have to ask about that?” Jodi huffed as she flopped onto the couch in the brightly lit living room, filled with antique musical instruments, sculpture and paintings.
“Because it’s a normal thing for people to talk about?”
“Come on, Dad. You know who my friends are. It’s not like I’m trying to hide anything from you.”
“I just want to talk. I want to get to know you better.”
“Like you haven’t known me all my life?” She looked at her watch. “Can I go now? Tiffany and I have a video meeting with the others.”
“Sure.” Michael sighed, defeated.
Sighing, he watched as Jodi went up the stairs to the bedroom she was sharing with Tiffany.
“I don’t get it,” Michael sighed.
“You want her to have friends, right?” Inez said softly.
“Yeah. And I’m really glad she does.” Michael’s face creased. “But she seems to be pulling away from me. You saw her huff just now.”
“That’s pretty normal behavior,” Inez said with a chuckle.
“Not for Jodi.” It was Michael’s turn to flop on the couch. “It’s like she’s been pulling away from me since last July. Then she wanted to go to school in Washington instead of living with me in New York.”
Jodi and Toby had been raised by their mother until the previous fall, and Michael had been forced to parent only every other weekend.
Inez slid down on the couch next to him. “I’m sorry, honey. But even Toby has been getting a little distant.”
“I feel like I’ve lost my chance to know my daughter.”
“You haven’t, amado. My guess is that Jodi doesn’t feel like she has that much in common with you. You two have always had less to talk about than you and Toby.”
“Speaking of, is she going to be home for dinner?” Michael looked blankly at the room’s walls.
“I think Toby said they would be out later than that.”
Michael shook his head. “Are you sure you want to do this baby thing?”
“After today, I can imagine you don’t.” Inez sighed. “But I’d like to try.”
Michael nodded. “Actually, today is why I want to start over. I want my kid to know me.”
“Really?” Inez stroked his arm. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
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