Chapter Four #2
“We don’t mean to overwhelm you,” Mackenzie said. “But we’re very excited about the opportunity to work with you, to learn from you, to help you take full advantage of your new role. We’re at your disposal.”
“That’s very kind of you, thank you.”
“We have a few somewhat urgent matters to address with you,” Andrea said. “Including the bio you’d like us to use on the White House website, an appointment with the White House photographer to take your official portrait and the agenda for the inauguration events.”
Sam took a deep breath and blew it out. She could do this, right? Of course she could. She caught murderers for a living. What was a bio and photo when stacked up against that?
By the time her staff—and she still found it surreal that she had a White House staff—had finished with her, it was close to five o’clock and already dark outside. “Would it be possible to meet with the vice president if he’s available?”
“Of course,” Lilia said. “Let me check with his office and if he’s free, we’ll walk over there.”
Left alone in the office, Sam took the papers Andrea had given her and sat behind the desk, feeling oddly official all of a sudden.
She began going through the interview requests from some of the biggest magazines in the world—Vanity Fair, Cosmopolitan, Town & Country, Vogue, Working Mother, to name a few.
“I thought there had to be a mistake.”
At the sound of his deep voice, Sam smiled, but didn’t look up from what she was doing.
“When they said my wife was here and looking for me… I thought, my wife? Here? Are pigs flying in hell? Is it snowing in the desert?”
“Hahaha.” She smiled at him as he came into the office, closing the door behind him. “You’re going to start a scandal among my staff by closing the door.”
“They may as well get used to how we roll from the beginning.”
“Good point. Come on over here and say a proper hello to your wife.”
He crossed the room, came around her desk and leaned over to put his hands on the arms of the chair. “What would constitute a proper hello?”
Sam curled her hand around his neck and brought him down to show him what she had in mind. The instant his lips met hers, everything else faded away and there was only him. How he managed to do that to her every time they were together was one of the greatest and most amazing mysteries in her life.
When he drew back many minutes later, his cheeks were flushed and his lips wet from their kisses. “I believe there may be rules about making out in the White House.”
“You’re the vice president now. You need to do something about those archaic rules.”
“I’ll get right on that. What’re you doing here, babe?”
“Trying to be a good wife and second lady.”
“You’re a great wife and a great second lady.”
“Said the man clearly blinded by love. I’m neither of those things as you well know.”
“Why would you say that? You’re an amazing wife to me and mother to Scotty. We wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”
“You’re very sweet for saying so.”
“I’m hardly being sweet. You’re the only woman I’ve ever had even the slightest desire to marry. Doesn’t that say something about how awesome you are?”
“I suppose it’s a pretty good testimonial.”
“How’d you get here?”
“Lilia sent a car for me and they brought me in. Good thing because I wouldn’t have had the first clue where to go. They’re all very nice,” she said, gesturing to the outer office.
“What’s all that?” he asked of the papers on her desk.
“Interview requests. Apparently, I’m in hot demand.”
“You and me both.” He reached for her hand and when she took it, he pulled her up and led her to the sofa. Sitting beside her, he turned to face her. “Tell me what’s really going on, Samantha.”
“What do you mean?”
“This,” he said, waving his arm to encompass the room, “is not you.”
“Maybe it’s the new me.”
“I liked the old you who was screaming at me to do something about the woman at the White House who was calling to schedule meetings you wanted nothing to do with.”
“So you don’t expect me to be supportive of your new job?”
“There’s supportive and then there’s this. You coming here without being dragged kicking and screaming is unexpected, to say the least.”
“I was getting bored at home.”
“Then go back to work, but don’t do this for me. I don’t expect it.”
“I know you don’t, but she called and they sent flowers when I was injured and they were nice today.
They talked to me about how I can use my—our—notoriety to bring attention to issues I care about.
It doesn’t totally suck to think about bringing awareness to spinal cord issues, learning disabilities, infertility struggles, law enforcement challenges and adoption. ”
“You’d be an amazing spokesperson for any of those causes, but do you know what that would entail? Being a spokesperson?”
“I’m told it requires speaking. Publicly.”
Nodding, he said, “Among other things, such as interviews for print and television, intrusive questions about what these issues have meant to you personally. I want you to be prepared for what you’d be getting into.”
“I hear what you’re saying, and I’ve thought about what we might be able to do in these new roles. If me giving a few speeches and interviews about spinal cord injuries leads to more funding, advanced research, better treatment, then I’ll do it. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Um, because under normal circumstances you’d rather have the skin peeled from your body with tweezers than willingly meet with the press.”
Since she couldn’t deny the truth of his statement, she didn’t try. “You like me better that way? Kicking and screaming and bitching about all the many ways your new job is putting me out?”
“Frankly? Yes, I like you better that way. This docile Stepford wife thing is not you. It’s not my wife.”
“Well,” she said, looking down when tears suddenly—and unexpectedly—filled her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not what you want.”
“Samantha! Oh my God! How can you say you’re not what I want? I want you madly, desperately. I want you all the time. What I don’t want is you pretending to be someone you’re not to make me or anyone else happy.”
“I’m not sure where I belong anymore,” she said softly.
“When I’m at home, I feel like I should be doing something else.
” She wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek.
It made her feel weak and out of control of her emotions.
For that she blamed Stahl. “So I came here thinking maybe I’d find something to do to keep me busy until I figure out what I’m going to do about work. ”
“If you want to be here, legitimately want to do the work, then please, by all means, do it. But please don’t do it for any other reason than because it’s what you want.”
“I liked them,” she said of her staff. “They were very nice and welcoming and opened my eyes to some of the things that might be possible while you’re in office. Some of it interests me. Some of it doesn’t.”
“As long as you’re doing it for the right reasons, I’m thrilled to have you taking a role. But the minute you’re ready to go back to work, that’s what you ought to do. Don’t let any sense of obligation to me or my job get in the way of that.”
“Okay,” she said, grateful as always for his unending support and love. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I want to understand, Sam. I want to get why you’re not in an all-fired rush to go back to work. It’s concerning to everyone that you’re not.”
Because, she thought, to do that I have to talk about what went on in Marissa Springer’s basement.
I have to talk about how it made me feel to be certain I was going to die, that I was never going to see you or Scotty or my family again.
How can I tell you I’d rather be an active second lady than talk about any of that?
“Sam?”
She forced herself to look directly into his gorgeous hazel eyes. “I’m not ready.”
“Okay, babe.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Fair enough. What do you say we go home, make some dinner with our son and hit the loft after he goes to bed?”
“I say there is nothing else in this world I’d rather do.”