Emily was less sure about using the word “exceptional” as a part of this particular plan’s definition.
She lifted off the South Lawn an hour before sunset with Mark and Katherine settled in the back. Her instructions? “Go up and fly around a bit. Act as if you’re heading toward Camp David. We’ll change our mind later because I have a date tonight.”
Their late departure was due to finagling time into the First Lady’s schedule. Despite the whimsical reputation she’d cultivated, Katherine couldn’t brush off the wives of four pivotal governors until after an early dinner of grilled sea bass on a bed of blackberry sauce swirled with strawberry sauce for contrast and a single, perfect candied basil leaf from Emily’s rooftop herb garden to top off each portion. One way or another, Emily guessed
