Clay turned a corner and passed a number of offices. His aide, Jennifer, was clearly expecting him when he opened the door and walked through. “Hi, John.” She said, hanging up the phone. “How were the Caymans?” “You would have hated it,” he smiled and moved past her into his office. “No reality TV.” She grinned and followed him with a folder of her own. “I’ll be sure to cross it off my list.” Jennifer laid the folder out and set aside his stack of messages, which Clay eyed with dismay. “All of these in just three days?” “You’re a popular guy.” She flipped through the folder for his
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