52
“You are here as a part of my guard detail, Em.”
Connie looked at the three Secret Service agents who stood at strategic locations in the hotel suite. Places where they were unobtrusive but would be the first to any door or window. Long before President Peter Matthews.
They fit in well here, and the SOAR crews certainly didn’t. The plush furnishings evoked the founding of Stockholm’s Grand Hotel in the late 1800s. She considered touring the suite but felt too self-conscious under the Secret Service’s vigilant eye. She sat at the far end of the living room at the broad dining table. Most of the others were clustered down at the far end in the circle of sofas beyond the grand piano.
Connie had never imagined a hotel suite like this one, never mind been in one. Everything was so perfec
