Enough

by Cassidy Hutchinson

I doubt any politician could have led the country through the deadliest pandemic in a hundred years without making errors of judgment and execution. But of all the people in the world, President Trump was uniquely unsuited to the challenge. He lacked empathy and was stubborn and impatient. For all but the MAGA base, his aggressive personality made his leadership appear more erratic than inspirational.

Before he turned to leave, Ben gave me some advice. “Keep your guard up still, but you’re in a powerful position, Cassidy. You can bring some needed changes to this place. You have his ear.” Ben’s approval and his sincerity boosted my morale, and his report of Mark’s sentiments was the encouragement I needed.

A few of us were left when, at one o’clock or so, Dan Crenshaw, who had lost an eye in Afghanistan, brought out a display case of variously designed glass eyes he always carried with him, and began popping in one after another and asking us which we liked best.

getting married in Atlanta. Mark asked me to go in his stead. I had not had a day off since I started in Mark’s office and had been looking

The president looked at me and then turned to Hope and asked if she would give me her hair stylist’s contact information. He turned back to me and said, “Cassidy, you should get some of her highlights. I think they would look really nice on you.”

I tried to make a joke. It was the only thing I could think of on the spot. “Yeah, sure, but could it be to the leg?” He laughed. As the president began to wrap up, we walked toward the stage. “Would you?” I asked him. “I would do anything,” Mark answered, looking over his shoulder at me, “to get him reelected.”

As I turned to leave the Roosevelt Room, George invited me to look through the documents with him. “There’s a lot of interesting stuff in these. I thought I knew a lot about Crossfire Hurricane, but turns out there is a ton I didn’t know. You should read them, too.” “Crossfire Hurricane? What does that mean?” I asked him, genuinely perplexed. He laughed and said I had a good sense of humor. I shook my head and walked out of the room. I had not wanted to know what was going on before, but I especially did not want to know now.

The call was with Brad Raffensperger, Georgia’s secretary of state, and it went on for a long time. I had a backlog of stuff I needed to speak with Mark about and was waiting for the call to end. Mark was listening to the conversation on his desk phone’s speaker and had the phone cord stretched to his couch. His door was propped open, and I heard much of the conversation.