Chapter Three
Damien glared at his phone.
It had rung a hundred times over the last week, but not once had it been a call to warn him that the Chief of Staff was on her way down to the Sit Room. She’d been here any number of times, slipping along in the wake of the President or the President-elect each time, and then hurrying out as if avoiding him.
Had he been too pushy? He knew he was bad about that. Every time he met an attractive woman, his mind immediately painted all of the possible scenarios. And with Cornelia Day his imagination had been working overtime. He could see her laughing easily whenever he dug deep enough to find that funny bone she struggled so hard to keep hidden. He could picture quiet dinners together. And, just as easily as he could imagine how she might look morn
