T-shirt, with morning stubble and bed-tousled hair, he was truly the most attractive man I’d ever seen. Not only that—he became increasingly more handsome by the day.
I sat down on the bed next to him. “This brings back memories?”
His brow came together and he gave a quick headshake. “The opposite, in fact. Right before you woke up I was thinking about how difficult things have been for Erma and Bill. How they probably couldn’t have made it without having each other. How lucky they are that they do. How lucky to have had one another for so many years. Life can be so full of anguish. But when sorrows are shared . . .” He reached out for my hand, and held tightly. “Thank you for being here for me.”
I leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips. “Always.”
* * *
“You want a what?”
Tom MacKenzie, head of the Presidential Protective Division of the Secret Service, the PPD, practically choked with laughter.
We were seated across from one another in Tom’s West Wing office. I was allowed broad access to the Secret Service and to Tom because of the many situations I’d been involved with in the past. Where once Tom and his staff had worked to exclude me and even belittle my contributions, he now grudgingly accepted my peculiar talents as part of the job.
“I think it would be smart—forward-thinking, even—to post a linguist in the kitchen while the Saardiscan contingent is here. To translate what they’re saying.”
“Don’t they speak English?”
“They do, very well.”
“Stir that, bake this, pass the artichokes.” He cocked his head to one side. “What more do you need?”
I sat up a little straighter, my spine zinging at the condescension. “They carry on extended conversations that neither Bucky nor I understand.”
“So? They’re friends. They probably have a lot of things to discuss.”
“It isn’t right.”
“Have you asked them to speak English in the kitchen?”
“I have, but they’re still lapsing into Saardiscan. Quite a lot, actually.”
Tom shook his head. “Has it been too long since we’ve uncovered a conspiracy in the White House? Are you bored and looking for a little excitement?”
“What is up with you today?” I asked him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know how sarcastic you can be when you’re in that kind of mood, but this seems over the top, even for you.”
He pulled at his nose, not looking at me. My words had struck home, and I watched as he collected himself.
“There is no such thing as nonessential staff when it comes to protecting the president and his family,” he said. “Even though my workforce hasn’t been cut during this sequester, there have been ripple effects from personnel shortages in other departments. Tensions are high.”
“I get that you’re under pressure, but it isn’t fair to take it out on me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The words were there, but the tone was perfunctory. “Thing is, Ollie, while the government is running shorthanded, this is a ludicrous request.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks. “Hardly ludicrous,” I said. “The decision was made to honor our promise to Saardisca and host their team. Seems to me that if this initiative was so crucial that the sequester couldn’t touch it, we ought to give it its best shot at success.”
“And you think a linguist will do that? Seriously, Ollie? Don’t you believe they have a right to private conversation?”
Of course I did. Yet, while we all worked together in the White House kitchen, I needed to know what was going on. How could I tell Tom that I had an uneasy feeling about them? He would immediately claim I was chasing conspiracies again.
“Bucky and I don’t have the luxury of private conversation,” I said. “And with Marcel out, he and I are stretched thin.”
“Talk to me about being stretched thin.” He shook his head. “Your request is denied. Totally out of the question. Besides, the visitors won’t be