Page 26 of Innocent

And off we go, with a Secret Service agent silently shadowing us. That’s a requirement, since I don’t yet have a completed background check, meaning I can’t have unsupervised access to the White House.

Only the president can grant that kind of override. I have a feeling lame duck President Fullmer might not feel very charitable in that regard, considering I work for the woman who thoroughly trounced his ass in last week’s election.

Not only do I get to see the Oval Office, but the president’s private study, dining area, and the vice president’s office—because Congressman Woodley’s asked me to decorate his office and residence, too.

His residence will be the easiest, because he’s only asking for changes in the master bathroom, master bedroom, and the spare room he’ll use as a home office. Another room will be converted into a workout room. He’s already requested the four third-floor bedrooms not be outfitted as guest rooms, and instead be emptied and used for storage for his personal belongings that will be moved from his apartment and not used elsewhere in the house.

I guess he doesn’t like having guests. That’ll leave him with only one guest room on the second floor, the same floor as the master suite.

I’ll select furniture for him from the inventory available once I pick out the furnishings for the executive residence. He doesn’t have much in the way of furniture of his own, and he’ll be buying a new mattress, once I choose a bedframe. He prefers king-sized, and I already have a few options scouted from the furniture inventory catalog. He’d also like a new sofa, and I have a budget for buying a few things for him that he’ll keep once he moves on.

I’m touring Number One Observatory Circle tomorrow to check the layout and verify measurements before I create my proposal, because the current vice president and his family will be out of town. Now that the election is over, they’re off to look at several choices for a permanent residence in their home state of Arizona.

I have permission—and the budget—to do more in Mr. Woodley’s residence if I want to, but he really only cares about the four rooms he specified. I suppose it’ll be easier for me since he’s single and I don’t have to worry about a wife changing my plans a bazillion times after they’re finalized.

President-elect Samuels has a very short list of requirements for the residence and her offices, and Mr. Bruunt strikes me as very laid-back and easy to work with.

Her chief of staff, Kevin Markos…

Rawr.

I wonder if he’s gay and single, because he’s a hottie. He’s the kind of guy I wouldn’t mind eventually crawling into bed with. President-elect Samuel’s husband’s a hottie, too. So’s the vice president, and—

Fricking focus, Jordan!

I snap back to the present and find the Chief Usher waiting on me. I barely remember my notebook is in my hand. With trembling fingers, I grab the mechanical pencil I carry tucked behind my ear and start sketching and noting ideas as I follow the man around, forcing my mind back onto the tour and taking copious notes.

When we finish with the East and West Wings, and the Chief Usher leads me upstairs to the private residence to look around, I think I might swallow my tongue. I’m so…gobsmacked.

Yay, I canfinallyuse that word without sounding pretentious.

Suck my ass, David. This istotallya legit time and place to use that word.

Like he’ll ever enter the White House as anything other than a tourist, much less the executive residence portion of it.

“Th-thank you for this,” I stammer. “Ireallyappreciate it.”

“Sorry again that I can’t let you take pictures, but it’s both a privacy and a security issue. I can give you a thumb drive of a catalogue of approved official pictures for reference.”

“No, that’s all right. Mr. Markos already provided those. And the blueprints and 3D renderings are more than adequate. Mostly, I needed to see it all in person to get a sense of the light and actually feel the space before I start selecting paint colors, wall and floor treatments, and furniture.”

“Well, if you need anything else, let me know. I can e-mail you a current list of everything that’s in use right now from the furniture inventory.”

“Thank you. That would be appreciated.”

“Also, I’ll give you my cell number and direct line so you can bypass the switchboard, if you need to call me. Don’t hesitate to reach out with any questions.” He kindly smiles. “I’ve done this a few times now. I’m sort of an expert at it. I promise I’ll help you with anything you need. Simply reach out and ask.”

He’s very warm and gracious and has been doing his best to put me at ease. “Th-thank you so much.” I’ve never stammered so much in my life, either. “I’ll definitely be calling you next week.” I laugh. “Once I’ve had a chance to wrap my head around this.”

“It is a little overwhelming, I’m sure.”

“That’s one word for it.” My life feels like a dream right now. I’ve already submitted all the paperwork to the Secret Service for the background check, but I have preliminary clearance to do what I need to do. If I have to be with the president-elect, her husband, or the vice president, there must be Secret Service or senior staff present, like Mr. Markos, or Mr. Cruz, who I haven’t met yet. It’s unlikely I’ll be here long enough to need a fuller, more in-depth security clearance, but Mr. Markos said it was easier to get it started in case they need my services in the future.

There are already packing boxes in some of the rooms—the bedrooms and sitting rooms the First Family is obviously using. I know the First Family has a house out in Montana, and will be moving there once President Fullmer leaves office in January.

We’re upstairs for less than an hour, but I am able to see everything I had questions about. Now I’ll be able to sit down with President-Elect Samuels and her husband and work out my plans. The Chief Usher completes our tour of the residence back in the main entryway on the second floor, and we are starting for the stairs to head down when we meet a man coming up the stairwell.

“Hi, Chuck,” the guy says to the Chief Usher as he ascends. “Oh, hey, Dale,” he says to the agent shadowing us. “Sorry I’m late, but President-elect Samuels’ meeting ran long.”