As soon as she entered her office in the East Wing the next morning she took out a notebook, set it on her desk. She pulled her post-it note cube close and set the pile of books she'd collected on her way nearby on the desk. It was exciting to meet Gideon but meeting him made her all the more determined to do a good job for Joe.
The notebook was a little worse for wear she realized as she reached for it. The edge of the cover was getting worn, some of the the pages dogeared, little notes peeking out from between pages. She flicked through it, seeing lines highlighted, others crossed out, she stopped as she saw a stain on one page.
She smiled.
It was ice cream.
Ice cream she had brought back to the villa from her trip to the Vatican Museum she knew. The day she had identified Shawn. The day Joe and she had sat down after she'd returned from the visit and outlined the paintings they would request for the exhibition. The steps she'd need to take to get the secret canvas to the White House. And now, today, she was opening the notebook again.
She pulled herself from her reverie.
She had a lot of work to get through.
Important work.
Work for the President.
Work for the nation; for the world.
She selected a fresh page and got busy, jotting down a framework, the outline of a project. She understood that she needed to be circumspect, and couldn't lay out the details of the plan directly so every word was heavy with double meaning.
When she was done writing she sat back in the chair, thinking about how she was going to progress all of this. Joe had told her last night about some of the elements, what he thought was happening but he couldn't prove any of it. Her job was to find him proof, and quickly.
She needed to pick a starting point. She racked her brain to try and find a way into the project. A thought crossed her mind. Something Doug had mentioned. She reached across to the keyboard of her iMac and typed into the search bar.
Bingo.
Entry point discovered.
She lifted the phone. 'Vanessa, I'd like to add a stop on the upcoming New York trip. Can we schedule a visit to the MET please? I'd like to tour the Old Masters exhibition', she explained. 'I'd also like to speak with Dr. Hartley again from the National Gallery of Art. Invite him over for tea. Whenever you can schedule it is fine but make it soon please', she requested. 'I also have a Zoom set for later, please make sure I'm free at 2.00pm.'
She leaned back in her chair, satisfied she had made a start at least. She checked her watch, she had a few hours until her transatlantic call so decided to do some research of her own.
'Ma'am ...' no response.
'Ma'am', louder this time. Still no reply.
'Jill', he said. Louder this time.
Anthony's voice cut through her mind. 'Hmmm?' she murmured, still gazing intently at the computer screen. He laughed, 'you're in a world of your own today boss', he said in jest.
She peered at him around the screen. Let her eyes roam around the office, making sure they were alone. 'I'm working on something for the president', she began. She slipped her reading glasses off, played with them in her hand for a moment, her fingers mindlessly running the length of the stem.
'Sit down for a minute', she said. He sat opposite her, across her desk. She leaned back in her chair.
'I'm working on something for the president', she repeated. 'Obviously I can't tell you what it is but it will be ongoing and as such I'm going to have to add in a few stops here and there as needed. I need you to be ready to make some excuses, find events in the vicinity of official stops that will give me cover. Allow me to carry out the task he has asked me to do', she said.
