by Carsen Taite
Addison wasn’t sure if Julia’s voice had actually trailed off, or if she’d been no longer able to hear any words beyond “president’s choice,” “of the United States,” and “short list—you’re the only one on it.” Before she could fully process her thoughts, Julia’s words penetrated, picking up where she had dropped out of the conversation.
“…okay, just so that’s clear. I’ll talk to you tomorrow and we’ll set the schedule for next week. Good-bye, Dean Riley.”
Addison held the phone for a few minutes after Julia disconnected the line. Dean Riley.
Leave it to Julia to make even that dry title sound sexy.
*
Julia set the phone down and let out a deep breath. That had gone as well as could be expected, but it had been a struggle to maintain her composure. Part of her wanted to congratulate Addison, ask her out for drinks to celebrate her good news, but a bigger part dreaded the fight to come and what it might do to her and to any chance they might get to know each other better.
“Julia?”
She looked up to see Noah standing in her doorway. “Yes?”
“I’d like to go over the president’s schedule. He wants to make the announcement by the end of the week. Rose Garden if it’s sunny, which it’s supposed to be. I have a number of things for you to get done by then.”
Annoyed at his commanding tone, and that Cindy never seemed to be at her desk when he came by, she didn’t try to mask the imposition from her voice. “Am I always to expect a personal visit from you when you want to tell me how to do my job?”
Ignoring her tone, he sank into a chair and took over a corner of her desk with his stack of files. “Maybe I like seeing you.”
“Maybe you should get a new hobby.”
He laughed. “You’re refreshing. No one here talks to me this way.”
“That’s because they’re all scared of you. You have the power to send them packing.”
“And you’re immune?”
“Let’s just say I don’t care if you fire me or not. I’m doing this as a favor for the president, not because I need the work. In a month, I’ll be moving on to a long list of clients who want me to perform the same miracle for them that I did for your guy. Translation, cash. Lots of it. Like I said, I don’t need this gig.”
“Why don’t you step down then? Take that trip you planned? I’ll talk to him, pave the way. I know several qualified candidates who could take your place.”
Julia started to say “if only,” but then she realized he was serious. The steely expression lurking behind his veneer of nonchalance started her wheels spinning. He wants me to quit. Badly.
It was one thing to know she had the power to quit whenever she wanted, but she wasn’t about to be pushed out, especially when she suspected Noah had an ulterior motive behind his idle suggestion. No, she’d gotten Addison Riley into this by passing along her name, and she was committed to seeing it through. She had no clue what Noah was up to, but she made a silent vow to see the process to conclusion.
The words she spoke next were ones she’d never expected to say. “I serve at the pleasure of the president. If he would like someone else to handle the confirmation process, then he can tell me so himself.”
Noah laughed and stood. “Take it easy, Julia. It was just a suggestion. Hey, you’re the one who said you were doing this as a favor. I was just trying to give you an out. No harm done.”
She studied his face. His features were firmly fixed in a broad smile and his tone was casual and confident. Maybe she’d imagined the ulterior motive. After all, she was used to looking for the hidden twists in any situation, and sometimes things were just exactly as they appeared to be. She reached for his hand, a truce of sorts. He looked startled at the gesture, but stopped gathering his files to reach out and meet her halfway. As he did, the stack of folders fell to the floor.
“Damn, I’m sorry,” Julia said as she released his hand and bent to help pick up the scattered papers. Noah practically dove to the floor and began scooping up the files, hugging them to his chest, but not before Julia got a good look at one of them and its contents. It was familiar. She’d seen the same folder only days before, on the president’s desk. She hadn’t asked then, but she had to now. “Noah, is there a reason the president was looking at the police report about Justice Weir’s accident? It was an accident, right?”
His reaction was swift. Eyes downcast, he shook his head. “Yes, it was. A horrible accident. The president wanted me to see if there was anything about the roadway that night that could’ve contributed to the accident so I could speak to Mayor Dandridge about it. But it appears it was just a matter of human error. Sad and such a great loss.”
His words offered a plausible excuse, but his downcast eyes and the slight hesitation in his voice told her he was shading the truth, if not covering it up entirely. But why? He had every right to request and read a police report involving the death of a highly placed official. No reason to lie about it.
She kept her reaction to herself, and chose to respond by echoing his sentiment. “Yes, a very great loss.” Then, quickly changing the subject, she said, “the Rose Garden will be a great spot for the announcement. Let me know when the schedule is finalized and I’ll follow-up with Dean Riley.”
A few minutes later, after he was long gone, Julia stood and walked to her door. “Cindy, may I see you for a moment?”
When Cindy was in her office, Julia motioned for her to take a seat and then she shut the door.
“I’d like you to get a copy of the police report for Justice Weir’s accident. Can you do that?”
Cindy cocked her head and Julia could’ve sworn she looked insulted by the question. “I can do anything you want me to.”
“Can you also keep it quiet? I don’t want anyone to know why you’re asking for it or who asked you to get it.”
Cindy nodded. “Not a problem.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
“If you wanted me to know you’d tell me.”
Good, a woman who appreciated a need for discretion. A thought struck Julia. “Cindy, who did you work for before me?”
Cindy shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the question. “I’ve worked for a number of people in the administration. Some wouldn’t mind if I told you, some might.”
“Do you work for anyone else now?”
“Just you. Mr. Davy said you needed someone and asked me to fill in. I was happy to do so.” She frowned. “Are you unhappy with my work?”
“Not in the least. And thanks for keeping this matter just between us. It’s just my idle curiosity, and I’d rather not have anyone thinking it was anything else.”
Cindy stood. “Is that all?”
“Actually, no. I’m sure the press office is going to handle the details of the announcement, but you should know the president is going to announce Addison Riley as his nominee for the Supreme Court. I’ll contact her myself to talk about the schedule for her Senate interviews, but I need you to find us a space to meet to prepare and I’ll also need you to coordinate with the Judiciary Committee’s chief of staff.”
“No problem. I’ll get right on it.” She walked toward the door, but paused before she crossed the threshold. “Interesting choice, by the way.”
Julia looked up from the papers on her desk. Something about Cindy’s tone made her think she disapproved. “Really? How so?”
“Nothing. It’s just she’s very different from the president’s first choice.”
Julia continued to stare, trying to read the meaning behind the words. “Yes, she is. Addison Riley is a rare breed.”
Chapter Twenty
Addison kicked off her shoes the minute she crossed the threshold of her condo. What a day. President Garrett had called within an hour of her conversation with Julia, and Roger had nearly fallen out of his chair with excitement before he burst into her office to tell her who was on the line. After the brief discussion in which the president asked and she agree
d to be the nominee, she’d spent the next hour clearing her schedule and warning Roger to keep things under wraps until the White House made the official announcement.
She’d managed to pour a glass of wine before her phone rang again. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway. It had been a day for strange calls, and she didn’t expect that was going to end anytime soon.
“This is Addison.”
“Addison, hi, it’s Jeff.” The man on the other end of the line paused and then cleared his throat. “Jeff Burrows.”
Addison relaxed into a chair. “Oh, hi, Jeff. Good to hear from you.”
“Sorry to call you at the last minute, but I was wondering if we could meet for a drink. It’s important.”
Addison glanced at the glass of wine in her hand and the shoes she’d abandoned in the foyer. She really didn’t want to go back out, but he sounded like whatever he wanted to talk about was urgent. For a brief moment, she considered inviting him over, but decided against it. If she met him somewhere, she’d be able to leave when she was ready. Whatever Jeff wanted, she was going to get a good night’s sleep. She’d need it to make it through the rest of the week.
“Sure, how about Old Ebbitt? Say half an hour?”
“Perfect. See you there.”
She hung up the phone, placed her wine glass on the kitchen counter, and wandered off to find a warm coat and a pair of boots for the walk to the restaurant.
The Old Ebbitt was the oldest restaurant in D.C. and a popular power circle venue. She knew Jeff, the consummate Washington insider, would know the place, but she’d chosen it mostly because she was starving and a plate of their famous grilled oysters sounded wonderful right now.
The walk took only twenty minutes, but by the time she pushed through the brass and wood revolving glass door, she was eager to enjoy the heat and hospitality inside.
Jeff was waiting at the bar and she made her way over. When she got closer, he looked up and stood.
“Don’t stand on my account,” Addison said as she hugged her old friend.
Jeff leaned back from the embrace. “You’re freezing. Did you walk?”
“My place isn’t far.”
“You’re a braver soul than me. I don’t know what I’d do without my driver.”
“Law school deans don’t exactly merit those kind of perks.”
“I suppose not. Well, unless you’d like a drink now, we have a table waiting.”
She looked around. There was plenty of seating at the bar. “We can just sit here if you want.”
Jeff looked around, and Addison followed his gaze to the man seated two places down, head buried in the Washington Post. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather we sat somewhere more private.”
Addison shrugged. “We can sit in the basement if you want, as long as I can get some food.”
A few minutes later, they were tucked away at a booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant. Addison recalled the first time she’d come here for lunch. Soon after, she’d started as solicitor general. As legal counsel for the United States, she’d been notable on her own, but she’d quickly realized how notable didn’t mean much in a city full of powerful political celebrities. She’d barely been noticed in the sea of important men and women who ate like everyone else. One mouthful at a time.
Tonight was no different. Long removed from political life, she was barely noticed except as a woman joining the powerful Senator Burrows for dinner. In just a couple of days, that would change. Her face would be plastered on every front page, every news outlet. Her entire life would be examined, from her opinions on trending legal issues to her favorite foods. Was she prepared for that kind of notoriety?
“Addison?”
She looked up into Jeff’s inquiring eyes. He’d obviously just asked her something and she’d zoned out. “Sorry, what?”
“What would you like to drink?”
She started to say a glass of wine, but reconsidered. A stiffer drink was in order after the week she’d had and what was still to come. “McCallan. Neat.”
Jeff turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the same. Make it the eighteen-year.”
As the waiter started to leave, Addison called him back. “And an order of grilled oysters.”
For the next few minutes, they made small talk. Jeff relayed stories about his family and asked about her brother who had resumed his tour in Afghanistan. When the waiter returned with their drinks and appetizer, Jeff motioned for her to take the first oyster. As Addison placed it in her mouth and reveled in the salty brine, he dropped the bomb.
“I’m amazed you can eat after all the excitement.”
Now she knew the real reason for the meeting. It wasn’t to catch up on their personal lives. Jeff was here in his role as senator. She’d almost forgotten he’d recently been elevated to minority chair of the Judiciary Committee. After all, before this week, she’d had no personal reason to remember that fact. She’d been told not to reveal her upcoming nomination, but of course, he’d know who was on the president’s short list. No harm in discussing it with him now.
“It is pretty exciting.”
“I’m sure Justice Weir would be proud.”
His statement was flat, signaling he might not agree with the deceased justice’s assessment of her abilities. His support would go a long way toward an eventless nomination process, something she was sure the president needed right now. No sense waiting to find out if the waters were going to be choppy. She plunged in. “And you? What do you think?”
Jeff picked up the heavy tumbler full of scotch and twirled it around in the glass before taking a deep drink. “I like this one. No burn. Smooth from start to finish. Well worth the price.”
Addison set her fork down and faced him. “I wasn’t talking about the scotch, but I think you know that. We both know you didn’t invite me here for small talk, Jeff, or should I call you Senator Burrows?”
“You can call me whatever you like. I’m here as a friend, and I’d like to offer a little friendly advice. I think you’ll find that being dean at a prestigious law school is a much more satisfactory occupation than any other you should care to seek.”
“No need to dance around the subject. You’re saying I should withdraw, aren’t you? I can guess why you’d like to see me withdraw from consideration, but you must realize that if it’s not me, it will be someone like me.”
“Not necessarily. When the president realizes he’s not going to get another Weir, he’ll turn to more moderate names.”
“Like Landry?”
“Yes. The president caved to threats from his own party on that one, but when he learns that we, along with our majority in the House, will block all of his legislative initiatives, he’ll cave. It’s not like he’s got a lot of political capital to waste on wars like this one.”
Addison held back a wince at the word “war” and pointed out, “He was reelected you know.”
“A fluke. Never should’ve happened. Everyone knows it.”
“And you do realize your job is only to advise and consent? And you’re not in the majority?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t understand politics, Addison. We both know you’re not that naive. There are many things we can do to prevent a nomination we don’t like. I’m just trying to save you from the trouble of going down with the ship.”
“How gracious of you.” Addison stared at the unfinished platter of oysters. She’d completely lost her appetite. “Tell me, did you harbor ill will toward Justice Weir while we were clerking for him, or did you only develop your animus after the fact?”
He looked surprised. “I don’t have any ill-will toward Weir or you, for that matter. I actually like you. You’re smart and well reasoned, but I don’t want a mini-Weir on the bench. He was dangerous, and the court is better off without his leadership.”
“You’re wrong. The court issued some of the most important decisions ever under his guidance.”
“Fighting corporations’ right to free sp
eech? Curbing citizens’ rights to bear arms? Setting the stage for gay marriage to be accepted in violation of states’ rights? I don’t think so. Of course, that last one may be of particular importance to you, I suppose. Would you recuse yourself from a discussion on the issue or will you let your own bias inform your decisions?”
His ire was palpable. Addison stared at the man she’d considered a friend. His fury came from some place deep, and she wasn’t about to engage. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“Actually, no. We need to agree that you will pull your name from contention.”
It was clear he expected her to say “Sure, whatever you say, Jeff. I’ll bow out.” Had life as a senator so insulated him that he thought his power was boundless? She took a long drink of her scotch, not for fortitude, but to give him time to back down. When she placed her empty glass back on the table, it was apparent nothing had changed, but she decided to give him one last chance to clear the air.
“Jeff, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I assumed you wanted to meet to catch up, talk about old times. It never occurred to me that you asked me here in your capacity as a senator, as minority leader of the Judiciary Committee. Frankly, I feel sandbagged, but I’ll tell you this. On Friday, the president is going to announce my name as his choice for chief justice. You and I both know I’m qualified for the position, and I hope I will have your support.”
Jeff stood up and threw a few twenties on the table. “I’ve lost my appetite, but feel free to enjoy your meal.” He leaned down and in a low voice said, “You have until noon tomorrow to let the president know you’re not interested in the position.”
“Or what?”
He shrugged. “I can only advise you as to what I believe will be the miserable experience of having your entire life placed under a microscope. These hearings can be pretty rough. I offer this advice as a friend. I hope you’ll take it to heart.”
Addison raised her empty glass and toasted the air. “Sure, Senator Burrows. Thanks for the advice.” She waited until he was completely out of sight before letting the glass thud back to the table. She grasped the edge of the table with both hands, willing the shaking to stop.