Ripple Effect

Chapter Forty: ...damage control.

Stevie

2:04 PM

'After news broke on Sunday that Senator Carlos Morejon's wife, Victoria Morejon, worked in the United States illegally when she first came to the country, Senator Morejon has today announced that he will be resigning from his post, effective immediately, citing 'personal reasons'. We approached Senator Morejon for further comment, but he declined...'

Stevie stared up at the television screen mounted on the wall in the corner above the drinks station whilst she stirred the brown sugar crystals and a dash of milk into her coffee. The spoon clinked against the inside of the mug with each cycle. The camera cut to the panel, ready to discuss the turn in events, or to chew over the carcass more likely—though that much Senator Morejon probably deserved—but before the feast could begin, Stevie tossed the spoon into the sink with a clatter, and then snatched up her mug and strode away.

She sailed along the corridor and back towards the office, flashing a strained smile at each staffer and official that she met on her way. At least with the attention on Morejon, no one was so much as mentioning her mother's absence, and it couldn't hurt that him quitting meant that she no longer had to worry about him skulking around White House corridors or accosting her when she was on her lunch break. But what if the media found out about her mother, about where she was staying and why? The circle of people who had been read in was slowly expanding—no thanks to Jason telling Aunt Maureen—and all it would take was one slip, one misplaced word, and once the press got wind of it, they'd make the feast over Morejon look like no more than a snack.

Stevie strode past the side door to Russell's office, and then stopped. She backed up two paces, and with the mug clutched against her chest so that the warmth of the ceramic pressed through her blouse, she peered inside.

Russell was stooped over the desk. A heavy frown furrowed his brow whilst he glowered down at the three files splayed open in front of him. Not the files she had left for him earlier. He straightened up and massaged his forehead, and the glass casing of his watch threw off a glint of white light. Then his shoulders pricked and his gaze whistled around. When it landed on Stevie, he flipped the covers of the files shut, jostled them together and placed them beneath the binder at the far side of the desk. "Miss McCord... How can I help you?"

"You're back." Stevie shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Russell shot her a look as he lowered himself into his office chair. "Well observed."

A tingle of warmth crept through her cheeks. "It's just, I thought you'd be gone longer, when you said that we should clear your schedule..."

"Yes, well, things didn't take as long as I'd planned." He smoothed down his tie, and then dragged himself up to the edge of the desk. He grabbed the stack of memos from his in-tray and tossed aside the pallid pink paperclip that fastened them together.

As he flicked through the pages, the rustle of the paper mingled with the erratic patter of raindrops against the windowpanes and thickened the silence that settled across the room. When he had given each memo a cursory look, he returned to the one at the top, and without so much as a glance in her direction, he said, "You're hovering."

Stevie pursed her lips. A pause. Then—"Well observed."

That earnt her another look, but also a huff of a laugh.

She switched her coffee into the opposite hand, and then crept a step further inside. "So...I saw that Senator Morejon's resigned... It's all over the news."

"Yes, that was rather felicitous."

She pushed the door to with a soft click, and then sidled closer, half-step by half-step. "So, it had nothing to do with the threat you made last week, or needing to speak to my dad on Saturday?"