Chapter 12
The next day the yurt topping-off party was a big occasion. He and Emily chased Ama out of the kitchen and spent all of that same afternoon creating a feast.
“You really cooked at the White House?” Nathan had never actually met one of the White House chefs and it took him over an hour to stop feeling clumsy beside her.
“For just a few weeks. Private chef to the First Lady,” Emily didn’t make it sound like a very nice experience, but he had to ask.
“What’s she like? The First Lady?”
“I’ve known three of them. The last one and the new one are both wonderful. I cooked for the one before that.” Her tone put a clear, end-of-discussion period at the end of it. She’d cooked for the one who’d died at the White House—that must be a bad memory indeed. He remembered it only vaguely; h
