Page 12 of Campaign Season (By Design #18)

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.

She thanked Ryan as he opened her door and smiled when Cassidy appeared on the porch.

“Nice costumes,” Cassidy quipped.

Candace laughed. “I told Ryan the detail should all bring bags and ask for candy.” She heard Ryan McCarthy chuckle behind her.

“Ma’am,” Ryan said, professional again. “Agent Reardon will bring the cars around back so they’re not visible from the street.”

“Thank you, Ryan.”

“Agents Mendoza and Bryant will remain outside. They’ll do their best to stay out of the way.”

Candace nodded her thanks.

“Agent Lamkin is inside with Cooper,” Ryan added.

Candace smiled. Agent Jeff Lamkin had been assigned to Cooper’s protection the day after the election. Safeguarding a child required a unique skill set. Cooper saw Jeff not just as a protector but as a friend—another fine line to walk, one Candace thought Lamkin managed beautifully.

“Let’s hope Jeff doesn’t come out covered in cobwebs or silly string,” she teased. “Might want to assign someone to his protection.”

“She has a point,” Cassidy agreed, leading Candace inside.

Ryan shook his head with a quiet chuckle as the door closed.

A moment later, Agent Mendoza approached. “Perimeter is secure,” he reported.

“I’m sure it is.”

“All due respect, sir,” Mendoza pressed, “this still feels risky.”

Ryan’s tone cooled. “Agent, you won’t find any place more secure than Alex Toles’ home.”

“I think it would be wiser if we made our presence more visible.”

“Trust me—anyone who matters already knows we’re here. Stick to the plan. Nothing obvious. The president and first lady depart at nine. Understood?”

“And their son?”

“Agent Lamkin has Cooper’s plan,” Ryan said firmly, ending the exchange.

He walked to the side of the house, pulling out his phone.

“Ryan?” Alex answered quickly.

“Sorry to bother you while you’re out with the kids,” Ryan said. “Everything’s fine here. The president’s with Cassidy. It’s Mendoza.”

“What about him?”

“He pressed me again about security. We’ve reviewed these plans six times already. He’s new—maybe just trying too hard. But it feels like posturing.”

“Do you want him pulled?” Alex asked.

“No. Anderson handpicked him. Better to keep him close.”

“Agreed. I’ll engage him when I get home—subtly. The last thing we need is to tip him off if there’s a problem.”

“Understood.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

Ryan ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket, scanning the shadows along the property line. Safeguarding a president meant having eyes everywhere, all the time. Having to keep eyes on your own team? That was more than problematic.

Alexandria, Virginia

Michelle shook her head for the third time, studying Jameson as if she were trying to solve a riddle.

“What?” Jameson asked.

“How did Mel talk you into this hippo brigade?”

Jameson shrugged. “The kids love it.”

“I’m serious, JD. Hippos? Couldn’t we just be ghosts or something? I can already see the memes tomorrow— Hippo Homos on the loose from the White House. ”

Jameson laughed. “Eh, more likely they’ll start a rumor that we were all high.”

“Not funny, JD.”

“It was pretty funny.”

Michelle tried to suppress a smile. “How was Mom when you left?”

“After she stopped laughing at me? She seemed good. Why? Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“I don’t know. Did something happen? Why does she want me to come over tomorrow?”

“I think she just wants to talk to you about next week.”

Jameson didn’t intend to darken the evening.

Candace had already shared her plan to move the family holiday to Thursday so Jonathan could be home by the weekend.

Jameson hadn’t needed to ask why—the answer had been written in Candace’s eyes.

No one could predict how long Jonathan would hold on.

Whatever he’d said had left Candace convinced his time was near.

But tonight wasn’t for sorrow. Tonight was for ghosts, goblins, witches—and hippos.

For Amanda and Brody squealing with excitement, for porches glowing with jack-o’-lanterns, for costumes that made little ones giggle.

Candace’s talk could wait another day. The best antidote to loss was living.

“Why does she need to talk to me about next week?” Michelle pressed. “Don’t tell me she wants us to bring tents.”

Jameson rolled her eyes.

“You and Mom should’ve dressed up as a priest and a nun,” Michelle teased.

“And you’re worried about hippo memes?” Jameson asked.

“Hey, I could spin that. I’d just tell everyone you were preparing for a tour of the Bible Belt.”

“Only you, Shell.”

“Jay!” Brody called, scrambling to catch up. “Look!”

Jameson grinned. “A king-sized candy bar?”

“They must be rich!” Brody declared, racing off to show Amanda and Melanie at the next house.

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Jameson said.

“Thanks for not making me saunter behind as a lonely hippo.”

Jameson laughed so hard she snorted.

“Sexy, JD.”

“I was serious.”

“So was I.”

“Shell,” Jameson said, still chuckling, “I thought Coop had at least one more year in him.”

Michelle bumped her hip. “He’s got an older girlfriend.”

Jameson groaned.

“Oh, come on. It’s cute. And innocent.”

“I know. I guess it just reminds me how much he’s grown.”

Michelle glanced ahead at Brody and Amanda. “Yes, it does. I can’t believe they’ll be five soon.”

Jameson nodded.

“Missing the baby parade?” Michelle asked.

“I wouldn’t say that. Why? Are you planning to make another contribution?”

Michelle shrugged.

“Shell?”

“I don’t know. We’ve actually talked about adopting.”

Jameson blinked. “Seriously?”

Michelle nodded. “Not a baby. A toddler.”

Jameson’s smile softened. “Wow.”

“I don’t know, JD. I never thought our family was missing something. But I can’t imagine it without Coop.”

Jameson smiled gently.

“I think we’d both like the chance to give that to a child. Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“What? God, no. I think any kid would be lucky to have you and Mel as parents.”

“Thanks, JD.”

“Just telling you the truth.”

“Don’t say anything to Mom yet, okay? I kind of want to tell her myself.”

“No worries, Shell.”

“Ms. Reid?”

Jameson turned to find Agent Larry Potter approaching. “Everything okay, Larry?”

Agent Potter nodded. “It is.” He sighed. “I’d like to get the family off the street.”

“Is there a problem?” Jameson asked.

“Nothing specific. I’m not forcing you to leave. I’d just feel better if we headed to the Toles’ before it gets much later. It’s open space out here—a lot of variables.”

Jameson nodded.

“It’s okay, JD,” Michelle said. “The kids have enough candy. And they’re excited to go to Cassidy’s.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Jameson turned back to Potter. “I’ll let Mel know.”

“I’ll have Agent Royce bring the car around to the McKennas’,” Potter said.

“Sorry about that, Shell.”

“Don’t be.”

Jameson sighed.

“JD?”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes, I miss that.”

“Huh?”

“Just being JD. Being able to do things without an entourage. Being able to take my family where I want, when I want.”

Michelle nodded. All of Candace’s children were assigned Secret Service protection, but never at the same level as Jameson and Candace. One day, she and her siblings would regain their autonomy. Candace and Jameson never would.

“I know it sucks sometimes,” Michelle said.

Jameson chuckled.

“Maybe you should ask Alex and Claire how to slip out unnoticed. Aren’t they, like, master spies or something?”

“If you ask Pearl, that’s Jeffrey,” Jameson said.

“Right. Grandma wishes he was 007. Uncle Jeff is a translator. He’s way too dull to be a spy.”

“You never know.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ll give you this much: no one probably pays attention to Uncle Jeff, so he’d make a good cover. You could hide in the back of his station wagon.”

Jameson laughed. “He doesn’t have a station wagon.”

“He did.”

“When?”

“When we were kids. It was the spy wagon. ”

Jameson snorted. “Only you, Shell.”

“What? It’s true!”

Melanie walked up with the kids and tipped her head.