The Night Stalkers White House - Books 4-6

Chapter 4-2

She waved at Harvey who waved back. The other two were inspecting her with a degree of scrutiny that at first felt invasive it was so intense. Then she realized they were probably studying her for characteristic motion, potentially dangerous actions, or who knew what went on within a top agent’s mind. Having finished whatever their inspection was, the huge man waved back in a friendly enough fashion. The woman still watched her carefully.

Then all three leapt to their feet as the President came into view behind her. Suddenly they looked like some Tom Cruise Mission Impossible team—dressed for a party and armed to kill.

“Dinner call,” the President said in a friendly fashion. “I’ll make sure trays get out to you.”

“Thank you, sir. Very kind of you, Mr. President.”

Anne glanced back as their party entered the Dining Room. The agents remained on alert, inspecting the long and empty hallway carefully before returning to their seats.

Maybe the transition to whatever inner circle she was being welcomed wasn’t quite so comfortable. They were in the most heavily guarded home in America. They even had guards inside. How far away was the officer with the nuclear football? The medic in case the President choked or had a stroke? What about…

“What in blue hills am I doing here?” She whispered to Zack as he held out her chair.

“Being the first woman I’ve dated who has been invited to the First Family’s table.”

Anne was overwhelmed by several elements of that statement and went for the least scary one, “We’re dating?” Though why she thought that was the least scary…

“Haven’t you been watching the news?”

She sat and he took the chair close beside her. She’d hoped for a little more distance from the emotional power that Zack was wielding over her. But he was right and she’d known that from the moment she’d seen the look in his eyes as he’d arrived tonight. She was in so much trouble. No, she’d known it since they’d stood together in front of that childhood train photo. It was impossible that she somehow knew so much about him so soon, and yet it also felt perfectly right that she did.

They’d had a wonderful time last night, definitely the best s*x she’d ever had. And Zachary Thomas wasn’t only a powerful man, he was an immensely considerate lover. Either his past as an Air Force Captain or his present life as the Vice President gave him a certain tendency toward macho, but it was well balanced by his innate kindness. Her past experiences were with men who had smoother manners and gentler personalities; not Zachary’s raw force of character.

In a dress—which made her feel exposed rather than beautiful—he’d looked at her as if she was indeed a queen—which made her feel beautiful rather than exposed. But seated side by side at the circular table, with their knees bumping against each other far more often than could be blamed on their relative positions, Zack was completely overloading her senses.

He was right, they were dating. She, Anne Darlington, was dating the Vice President of— Anne really wished she was a drinking woman.

The Dining Room also reflected a woman’s touch. Christmas here was knick-knacks on the mantel: candy cane candles, a line of matryoshka wooden nesting dolls but in the form of reindeer, and an old steel frame with three aged brass bells just like the ones on the four-horse team they used to pull the farm’s “sleigh.” In Tennessee it had wheels rather than runners, but the Darlington farm had offered children free hayrides in it since the late-1800s.

They’d seated Daniel across the table which wasn’t far enough—his constant hovering was making it hard to be herself; almost as much as wearing a dress. To her right sat Zack and Alice, who were still discussing climate change and world politics—apparently the Vice President had found the analyst he was looking for in Anne’s sister-in-law. Alice rattled off project names and statistics as if this was her CIA specialty rather than North Korean and Chinese politics.

To her left sat the First Lady and President Matthews. Anne was a little surprised that they hadn’t ended up man-woman the whole way around as was done at almost every formal dinner she’d ever attended or given. Sitting next to the First Lady was almost as daunting as sitting beside Zachary.

Geneviève was easily the most alarming woman Anne had ever met.

Of French-Vietnamese descent, not only was she a Director for the UNESCO World Heritage Convention, she notoriously had saved the President’s life, married him, and given him a daughter—presently asleep with her nanny. As if that wasn’t enough, the First Lady was a renowned beauty, as tall as the President with a statuesque figure, pale skin, and a lush fall of dark hair.

Why was Zack even looking at Anne when he could easily have his choice of similar smooth, urban beauties? Well, maybe not like Geneviève, but at least like Cornelia Day. Anne was so out of her league here that—

She shut down the thought and did what she could to survive the evening. Thankfully, her family entertained frequently and she’d known how to be social at a dinner table since before she’d learned to tie her shoelaces. If only Zachary hadn’t hooked his foot around hers beneath the table. It forced her entire body to hum with anticipation throughout the meal.

Over dessert of sweet wine and braised pears, the First Lady winked at her, “This problem I know,” she offered in her light French accent that only added to the perfection, unlike Anne’s own Holly Hunter imitation making her sound all the more rural.

“What problem?”

“Oh dear. You are so in the beginnings that you do not even see. Mais oui? I have forgotten what that is like. I think that makes it a very good beginning. Very good. You must be calling me Genny from now on.” Anne looked to Zack for some explanation, but he was talking to the President and Daniel about the Washington Redskins football team. Alice however, was leaning around Zack and watching the First Lady.

“Really?” Alice leaned further forward and looked carefully into Anne’s face.

Anne almost reached for her napkin to wipe it clean. Or maybe she’d just hide behind the linen, do a magic trick and disappear.

“Oh!” Alice blinked in surprise. “I missed that,” she spoke to Genny, then she flashed a huge smile at Anne.

“What?” Anne would have hissed it at Alice, but knew from experience that the best way to avoid attracting the attention of other people at the table was to speak perfectly normally.

True to form, there were two distinct conversations going on. The three men discussing a topic she’d be much more comfortable with, and the two women in deep cahoots over some thing or other that had Anne shifting nervously in her seat.

“Men,” the First Lady clapped her hands together in a peremptory fashion. “Men, you are now going away. Watch one of your games or conquer the world to make your women safe.”

The President leaned over to kiss his wife, Anne noted that it was far more than a casual act, then dutifully rose to his feet. Daniel—always too reserved—merely squeezed his wife’s hand. Zachary rose, then leaned down to kiss her on top of the head. It was sweet and did nothing to calm her sudden nerves.

She looked at him, hoping that he’d see her expression begging him to take her away. But Zack didn’t and merely proceeded on his way out the door with the others. Or perhaps he did and ignored it because no one argued with the First Lady.

Alice moved her teacup and then herself into Zack’s seat. Now Anne was truly trapped.

“Frank,” the President called out to the head of his Protection Detail as the three of them entered the West Sitting Hall. “Please tell me there’s a game on.”

In moments Frank and Harvey had followed them back to the Living Room. Beat headed in to check on the other women. And Zack wished Anne luck.

He was having trouble hiding his smile from the others. He’d seen Anne’s panicked plea; couldn’t have missed it from atop a Rocky Mountain peak. But she was just going to have learn the hard way—the same as he had—that Kim-Ly Geneviève Beauchamp Matthews was not as terrifying as she looked. Well, perhaps she was, but she was so awfully nice about it. However, the First Lady was not a woman to be denied and he wasn’t about to try.

The President opened an armoire and revealed a large television. Frank dropped into one of the armchairs and began inspecting a football schedule on his phone.

Harvey looked at Zack as to whether he should stay and Zack could only shrug. Watching a friendly game with “the guys,” he wasn’t any more sure of the protocols than Harvey was. As VP, he’d been a common enough visitor on the second floor of the White House, but mostly as a part of social functions, which were a recent innovation.

First Lady Katherine Matthews, prior to her untimely death, had entertained without the President on the third floor where Daniel and Alice now lived. She and the President were only ever seen together when in public. The top floor had been Katherine’s domain and, to the best of Zack’s knowledge, the President still never went up there.

The White House had become a livelier and friendlier place with the arrival of Genny Matthews. She entertained more and it was as much through her as through Zack’s own daily interactions with the President that he and Peter had become friends. But the President was very reserved in many ways—DC born and bred and perhaps overly self-conscious about his role. He only truly relaxed around his childhood friend turned helicopter pilot. Anne should be glad she wasn’t facing Emily Beale; she was even more daunting than the First Lady.

Anne half rose to follow the men anyway, but when she turned, the female agent stood in the doorway. She was powerfully curved, and terribly imposing in her dark suit. A beautiful woman, but her standout feature was her eyes—they missed nothing.

They clearly didn’t miss Anne’s halfhearted attempt at beating a hasty retreat. She moved into a blocking position in the doorway. The agent was only a few inches taller than Anne, but Anne gave up any hopes of retreat when she noted how completely she blocked the doorway—she filled it more effectively than a woman twice her size.

“Beatrice,” the First Lady spoke up without turning, “could you make us some tea, please? I would, but I fear that Anne will still need to decide in her mind that she is where she belongs. Oui?” Her position effectively blocked any escape to the left.

“Yes, ma’am.” Beatrice offered a glare that told Anne she wasn’t going anywhere, then turned for the small family kitchen. The main kitchen was downstairs from which their dinner had arrived via a dumbwaiter, to be served by stewards who ascended in the tiny elevator and had now departed.

“No, Genny,” Alice blocked Anne’s options to the right. “We don’t need to worry. She’s from Tennessee. Anne is too polite to run, even given the chance.”

“Just…” Anne had to swallow against a dry throat, she really did need some tea. “Just try me. Give me an escape route and my next stop will be—”

“One Observatory Circle,” Alice offered calmly. “While the Vice President might appreciate that, it is far too soon to appease him so easily.”

Anne didn’t want to appease him, she wanted to burrow up against his chest and hide from the two women facing her. Beatrice returned with a tray laden with rattling china, lemon, sugar, and milk. Make that three women facing her. Make it four and then she could be hiding from herself as well…which was exactly what she couldn’t do. The First Lady was right; she couldn’t run.

“Besides,” Genny patted Anne’s hand and she felt soothed despite herself, “it is time we came to know you just as it is time for Peter and Zachary to become more properly acquainted.”

Anne was about to ask why now was any different than yesterday, but then decided she wouldn’t like the answer.

“I looked for cookies, ma’am,” Beatrice shrugged, “but—”

“The President has eaten them all, I know it is très problématique. He does this always, I must fight with tooth and nail for my share.”

Anne recalled the box she’d stuffed into her pack before leaving Tennessee. “I brought Christmas cookies, ma’am. For Daniel, but I forgot to give them to him. They might be a little stale, but I can run up to my room and get them.”