Chapter 2-2
677 Words
Alice spun around to face the man who had come up beside her unnoticed. Tall, even more handsome than on TV. Stained sweat pants and a faded sweatshirt from Oxford didn’t detract from the image in the least.
The President held out a hand. She offered her own in some ingrained social response mechanism, like a trained puppy, only to find her paw shaken and released before she had a chance to do more than allow her arm to be moved up and down.
He settled into the chair beside her before she belatedly remembered you were supposed to stand when the President arrived. He propped his sneakered feet on the edge of Dr. Darlington’s beautiful cherry wood desk right where hers had been. What had she been thinking when she’d done that? Had she hoped to fluster the man and his immaculate three-piece suit behind the desk? Or had she felt so comfortable around him she hadn’t cared? Must have been the first but it felt like the second.
Daniel leaned forward, “Don’t worry. The complete intimidation wears off eventually. He’s not all that important really; it only feels as if he is.”
“Hey, I’m the one who they elected President. And I’m not a ‘he.’ I’m a POTUS to you.”
“Right, and I’m just the guy who makes sure that the all-important President of the United States doesn’t screw up at 12:30 in the morning.”
“True, true.” The President nodded sagely and the guys traded smiles. The mutual respect and friendship was clear between them.
They made an interesting contrast. The President had all of the magnetism she’d seen on TV, and more again in person. Even sleepy-eyed and wearing sweats, dark hair ranging loose down to his collar, he looked as if he should be framed up on a wall. Most popular President in recent history, probably all the way back to JFK. The world’s ultimate bachelor since his wife’s tragic death in the helicopter crash.
Whereas Dr. Darlington was perhaps the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Yale and Princeton; Bulldogs and Lions. Along with the Wildcats that made two cats and a dog, that part of her mind that collected useless garbage offered up. The White House Chief of Staff looked like a classic surfer bum with those sparkling blue eyes and gold-blond hair, despite the short cut of it and his sharp three-piece suit that he filled really, really nicely.
She’d always been a nerd, only comfortable with other analyst nerds, but even her few moments with Daniel had been easy.
Before she could stop herself, she caught herself glancing over at his hands.
No ring.
Some insane part of her brain said, “Goody.”
If she could slap it, she would.
Way too classically Alice. “Oh look, an intriguing rabbit hole, I think I’ll fall down it.” Of course, she usually fell for useless pretty boys. She’d bet that phrase had never been used to describe the White House Chief of Staff. Beautiful and, by reputation at least, brilliant as well. He was so far out of her league that it almost hurt. Still, she did wish she’d worn something nicer than her Christmas turtleneck and the old cardigan she’d knit a couple years back. It was her comfort sweater, made in a dozen shades of autumn forest browns and dusky reds.
“So, Dr. Alice Thompson, what did you bring us?” The Chief of Staff was back, all smooth and businesslike. He glanced up and over her head. “We’re good here, Kenneth. Thanks.”
She tipped her head back on the chair far enough to see the upper part of the upside-down Marine, her shadow who she’d completely forgotten about, looming close behind her. He offered a precise nod, did a neat snap turn, and walked out of her range of view with the back of his perfect white hat being the last thing to disappear.
Her head spun a little as she brought it back upright. She really needed some sleep.
Then she remembered what she held in the thin portfolio. It had kept her awake for three days, it would keep her going a bit longer.
That and the fact that, no matter how casual and collected he’d sounded, Dr. Daniel Drake Darlington III’s hands still hadn’t moved from the pull tab on the Advent calendar.
- Writer
