Alarm bells rang in Daisy’s head. She didn’t know why these people were here, but she knew that she needed to end this conversation. Now.
“I’m sorry. Jack’s not here right now. We have to go,” she said, taking a step back.
“Jack’s in the shower, Mommy. Isn’t that what you told us?” Natalie asked from next to her.
If possible, the woman’s eyes bulged even wider. “Are you and your family staying here with the lieutenant governor?”
“We all arrived last night,” Paul chirped helpfully.
Without giving him a chance to say anything more, Daisy grabbed Paul and the dog and pulled them inside, shutting the door on the shocked faces of the reporters.
Damn.
This did not seem to bode well. Not well at all.
Chapter Three
“No one knows where the leak came from, Jack. My bet is it was someone in Washington. But what’s most important right now is getting ahead of this story before it snowballs.”
Jack tried to keep his face neutral as, using Daisy’s charged phone, he listened to his campaign advisor explain how news of the governor’s resignation had somehow been leaked ahead of schedule, while Daisy studied him from across the room.
It had been a no-brainer after his conversation with the governor last week that Jack would call his dad’s old campaign manager, Stuart Windstrum, to help him make the transition to governor while also balancing the demands of an active and competitive campaign. Stuart was calculating, shrewd, and perceptive, all of which made his service still very much in demand even after all these years. The man was a genius. Something that would be of even greater value in light of this morning’s events.
Stuart had actually been trying to reach Jack since last night, but thanks to the dead cell phone now charging on the desk, he’d been unsuccessful. And because Jack and his daughter were in Tahoe and nowhere near the nexus of events in the capital, Stuart hadn’t thought the s
ituation urgent enough for him to take extra measures to reach him.
At least…not in time to head off this morning’s catastrophe, which was now being run on various news channels and social media on a seemingly endless loop for the past hour.
To put it mildly, Stuart was not very happy. Not that Jack was that crazy about it, either.
The door of the study threw open and Daisy’s two youngest stood in the threshold, their faces excited.
“We’re on Channel Four, Mom!” the pigtailed girl said. Natalie, was it?
“Hold on, Stuart,” he said, cutting off Stuart’s next words.
“I asked you guys to turn off the television,” Daisy said, coming to her feet.
“We did. This was on Lily’s iPad.”
It was the third time in ten minutes the kids had burst into the room to share news of the latest network that had picked up the story, their excitement at their newfound celebrity understandable and, in ordinary circumstances, adorable. But the strained look on their mother’s pretty face said the news of their celebrity wasn’t met with similar excitement—not that he could blame her.
“Kids. Come on,” Daisy’s aunt said, coming up behind them, apology in her blue eyes. His introduction to Glenda came just after the news cameras arrived and had been rushed, at best. But it was clear the woman was tickled to death by the circumstances that brought their universes colliding. She had been more than happy to volunteer to watch the kids while he and Daisy found privacy in the study near the front of the home.
“Your mom and Mr. Harris—I mean…Lieutenant Govern—no,” Glenda said, pausing to scratch her head. “What do I call you? Soon-to-be Governor?” the older woman asked.
“Jack’s fine.”
“Maybe we can turn off all the televisions and computers and do something else,” Daisy said to the kids.
“But I’ve never been on TV before,” Paul complained. “And we’ve been waiting forever to go play in the water and do some exploring. You said we’d do it after breakfast.”
“I know what I said, Paul,” Daisy said, a warning in her voice. “But I told you, I have important things to work out right now. Later. I promise.”
“Come on,” Glenda said again, steering them out “You heard your mother.”
The door shut behind them, leaving the room quiet again.