February 4
8:15 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
The White House Residence
Washington, DC
“How does it feel to always be right?” Susan said.
Stone shrugged. He looked down at the glass of red wine in his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Susan was dressed the way she always preferred—like a teenager. She wore an old pair of blue jeans, so faded and ripped they were practically falling off her body. She wore a hooded pale blue sweatshirt. She wore pink fuzzy socks on her feet—the floors here were cold at night. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail.
She and Stone sat across from each other at the small round alcove table in the Family Kitchen. There was a bottle of red wine on the table. She was drinking it, and in fact was on her second glass—he was still working on his first. There was a tension between them tonight. It was the first she had seen him since he had been back in town. He had filed a report about the mission within twenty-four hours, but he hadn’t stopped by.
“Well, you went after the kidnapped girls instead of the tectonic weapon,” Susan said. “People in my world wanted to hang you for that.”
Stone’s hard blue eyes gazed into hers. “I think anyone in my position would have done the same. We had the information on where they were being held. It was nearby. In a sense, if you have the right people with you, it was low-hanging fruit. Also, my men would have mutinied if I said no. Sometimes you have to lead from behind.”
“Then you gambled and went to the coast, even though we told you to wait. Your job was probably on the line at that point. There’s only so much I can do to protect you… without it looking weird.”
He shook his head. “The people on my team are the best. I believe what they say, even if it sounds crazy. If they tell me there’s a weapon heading to the coast and it’s going to cause a tsunami, I act on that information. I believe in my people, even if you and your people don’t.”
Susan shook her head. “Even Stephen Lief turned out to be all right. I was in a bad spot there for a minute, and he saved my bacon a little bit. I never would have imagined it. To tell you the truth, I was already sick of him.”
Luke smiled, and he seemed softer now. “I heard you sent him out west on a chili-tasting tour.”
Now Susan laughed. The wine was starting to go to her head, just a little.
“Yeah. I did.”
“The Vice President is a man of the people,” Luke said. “He’s probably got an iron stomach.”
They lapsed into silence for a long moment. Stephen Lief was not what they needed to talk about, and they both knew it. She looked at Stone. He was very good-looking, of course—not in a movie star way, but in a rugged, sexy, killer-for-hire kind of way. And he was the new version of himself—clean-shaven, short-haired, in a white dress shirt rolled to his forearms. He was making a run, however haphazard, at playing the DC game, running an agency, being a dad…
And what else?
“You put me in an awkward position sometimes,” she said. “You know that, don’t you? People around here, some people, know about us. Many others suspect. People like Frank Loomis. When you disobey my orders in public…”
She trailed off.
Luke’s glass was raised to his mouth.
“You send the military police to arrest me.”
She nodded. “Yeah. That happened. What choice did I have?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
She took a sip of her own wine. It was really good. She could picture drinking the entire bottle. Then again, she had a busy day tomorrow. Every day was a busy day.
“Your job, and your attitude, makes it hard for me to maintain this… relationship, or whatever you want to call it. I’ve got people leaking information to the press. I’ve got military people, people in Congress, and talking heads on TV and the editorial pages second-guessing me. I’ve got other people who think I’m letting you do whatever you want because you’re in here sexing me up on your off hours.”
Luke smiled. “Isn’t that what’s happening?”
She found his complacency the tiniest bit irritating. “Look, Stone. You’re out there playing Indiana Jones, and I’m back here trying to run an organization of three hundred million people while everyone is calling me names. If the world ends, I’m the one they’re going to blame. No one even knows who you are.”
He nodded. “I know. It’s rough. For you.”
“If stories about us ever get leaked…”
He reached for the bottle and poured another two fingers of wine into his glass.
“Yeah.”
“Well?” she said. “Do you have any ideas what to do about it?”
He shook his head. “Not at this moment. No.”
The doors to the kitchen were closed, one Secret Service agent right outside. He was listening to this conversation, in all likelihood. That’s how it was. It was always going to be that way, and she was used to it by now. She had no illusions about privacy. People knew. If anything, it was amazing that anyone didn’t know by now.
Susan stared at Stone. Exasperating, mercurial, high-flying Luke Stone. He had saved everybody’s neck once again, and had done it by going his own way.
“Listen, you want to get out of this joint?” she said. “Maybe take a walk somewhere?”
“Now?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“It’s like ten degrees outside,” he said. “Where do you want to go?”
“I figured I’d take you on a tour of the residence here. We can start with the Presidential bedroom.”
“But I’ve already seen that,” he said.
She shook her head. “There are new sheets and pillowcases. You haven’t seen those. Also, I got a new comb. It has a big handle which says No Tailgating on it. You’re supposed to put the comb in your back pocket with the handle sticking up so people can read the words. That way they know not to get too close.”
His brow furrowed. “Well, that is something new and interesting. I’d like to see that. But I thought you were worried about these problems with our relationship, or whatever it’s called.”
Susan stood and took him by the hand. His hand was large and thick and rough. He stood and downed the last of his wine. She led him toward the hallway.
“We can figure out all that stuff in the morning,” she said.