Madam President (5 page)

A laugh escaped Lauren, and she clamped down on it with the palm of her hand.
A politician with a genuine sense of humor? It's snowing in hell.
"That name sounds familiar," she offered noncommittally, not bothering to wipe the smile off her face.

"Then please allow me to immediately apologize. I'm certain that Francis' presence wasn't intended to intimidate."
Please don't ask me why else he was there then.

Lauren held the phone out again and looked at it, wishing could see Devlyn Marlowe's face. She sounded sincere enough. "Perhaps I misunderstood then," she heard herself say.

"Ms. Strayer, your work is both intelligent and insightful. I'm a huge fan."

Lauren was surprised again by Dev's enthusiastic praise and felt her cheeks growing warm. "Th... Thank you." What she didn't know was that Dev was sporting a matching blush on the other end of the phone.

The President-elect mentally scolded herself for sounding like a star-struck teenager. "I need your help. I'm in a very unique position, Ms. Strayer. One that needs to be skillfully and, more importantly, accurately recorded." Dev's alarm went off, and she swatted at it with an irritated hand.

"I couldn't agree more."

Dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Then you'll do it?" People started filing into the conference room.

"I didn't say that."

Devlyn sighed in frustration. "Please, Ms. Strayer, help me out here. I've got a meeting in two minutes. Tell me what I need to do to get you to say yes."

Lauren's car came to a stop outside the public library and waited dutifully for her to give the command to kill the ignition. "I don't think there is anything you could say," she replied honestly. "I'm flattered. Really, I am."
And curious as hell.
"But I don't want to have my copy ghost written by the Emancipation Party President. That's not the type of work I do. I'd be happy to recommend someone..."

"What are you talking about?"

Lauren could hear the puzzlement in Devlyn's voice.

"That's not what I want."
What did Michael say to you?

The writer blew out a breath, wanting to believe the other woman, but knowing better. "You say that now. But..."

"But nothing! I don't want a 'yes man' for the party. The party is paying you because I couldn't see asking the taxpayers to do it. And if I paid you myself it would call your professionalism into question, would it not?"

Lauren leaned forward, listening intently. "Yes, it would."

"I want someone with honesty and integrity and real talent. I want you, Ms Strayer. You'd have free rein to write whatever you see fit." Dev waved in the woman who she hoped would be the next head of the Department of Health and Human Services. Cursing the time, she spoke rapidly. "I'm giving you full access to everything and complete editorial control of the content. You're only constraint will be working within the bounds of reasonable National Security." Dev laughed. "And keeping up with me."

Lauren stared at the phone for the third time, not believing what she was hearing.

Dev held up a single finger, indicating to her people in the room she'd be just one more minute, as the last person sat down at the table and Jane closed the conference room door. The dark-haired woman turned her back to her guests and crossed her fingers. "Was that what you needed to hear, Ms. Strayer?"

Lauren nodded dumbly.
Full access? Editorial control?
And a 'subject' who is making history with every thing she does?
"Yeah." She swallowed hard. "That was what I needed to hear."

CHAPTER I

January 2021

Thursday, January 21
^st

D
EV TOOK A DEEP breath and looked at David McMillian, her oldest and most trusted friend, and the new White House Chief of Staff. She'd known him since her undergraduate days at Harvard. They'd studied and even roomed together for a semester, before Dev meet Samantha. Their time together cemented a friendship that had become a permanent fixture in both their lives.

While Devlyn's political aspirations put her squarely in the spotlight, David was more than content to play behind the scenes, where he often, and only half-jokingly, reminded Dev, the
real
power lay.

Dev reached out and grasped the cool metal knob, an astonished smile playing on her lips. "We did it."

"Yes, we did, Madam President."

"Cut that out." She scoffed at the title coming from him. They were beyond things like that, at least in private. And David knew it. But still, she was fun to tweak. "Or I'll make you call me Wonder Woman."

The tall, red-haired man scratched his jaw, and his tobacco brown eyes went slightly round. "Huh?"

"Never mind."

It was just after dawn, and the offices were empty, an almost haunting quiet surrounding them. This was just the way Dev had wanted it to be the first time she and David entered the Oval Office as the President and the Chief of Staff. It had taken a horde of people to get her here. But without the support of her best friend she never would have made it. It was only appropriate that they should savor this moment alone together.

She pushed the door open but didn't step inside. David smiled broadly and gestured. "After you, Wonder Woman."

"Smartass."

She stepped into the office and took a deep breath, stopping in the middle of the room to enjoy every crazy emotion, soaking in the pure thrill of it all. An almost giddy laugh worked its way up from her chest. She turned around and found David standing behind 'the chair'.

He gave her a grin and patted the soft leather. "Come on. Try it out."

"I'm almost afraid to," she admitted. "It's like, if I try to sit in that chair, I'll wake up from the dream, and it'll all be gone."

"Nah. It's real. You're here. And it's never gonna be the same again. You've already made history, Madam President. Now let's give 'em four years they'll never forget."

Devlyn took another slightly shaky breath and made her way to the chair, sinking into the soft leather with an inaudible sigh. She spread her hands over the desk in front of her, feeling the cool, smooth surface under her palms. "I am the President of the United States," she whispered, looking up to her Chief of Staff.

"Yes, you are." David sucked in a breath, biting the edge of his thick red mustache, fully aware of the power of the moment.

She blinked and stared across the room with unseeing eyes. "I've lost my mind."

"Yes, you have." David cleared his throat. "I'll leave you now, so that you can get your personal things out." He gestured as he moved back to the door. "They're in those two white boxes in the corner."

"Thanks, David." She looked up. "Hey, if we don't hate this too much, are we going for eight?"

"Ask me in two years. Have a good day, Madam President."

"David!" she called after him.

He poked his head back around the door. "Yes?"

"Thank you for getting me here."

"We did it together, Dev." Her friend gave her a smile and left the office.

Monday, January 25
^th

Dev had quickly adjusted to the flock of people that always seemed to be on her heels no matter where she was going. It was a lot like being Governor only to the nth degree. Luckily, she had long ago learned to listen to everyone at once.
Now, if someone could scare me up a good corned beef on rye without my having to fly back to Ohio, I'd be a happy woman.

"You have a meeting with the Secretary of Energy at three thirty," Liza Dennis, her new assistant told her, slipping another folder into her hands. Liza was young and every bit as tall as Dev's 71_ inches. She was rail thin with tightly curled brown hair and gums that showed just a little too much when she smiled. She was also saving Dev's life by getting her everywhere she needed to be with at least some semblance of punctuality.

Dev had learned early in her political career never to wear a watch. People read way too much into the gesture of glancing at the timepiece, which she tended to do often if she wore one. "What time is it now?" Dev eyed the door to the Oval Office, which was growing larger and larger with every step. She hoped to make it inside before someone declared war.

"One fifteen, Madam President."

"Remind me about the meeting at three fifteen."

"Yes, ma'am. You have an appointment now as well. With Lauren Strayer."

The President stopped dead in her tracks, turning to the young woman on her heels who nearly crashed into her. "Is that today?"

"Yes, ma'am. It was set for one o'clock."

Dev winced, and then suddenly became very aware of her appearance. "Damn." She gave herself a quick once over, straightening her jacket and smoothing back long, ebony locks. "Do I look all right?"

The young woman's mind derailed at the sudden change of topic. "Umm... of course," she stammered. "I mean... yes, ma'am. You look fine."

"Good." She handed all the files back to Liza, then wiped her palms on her slacks, chiding herself for her nervousness. "How long is this scheduled to go?"

"Half an hour, ma'am."

Dev pursed her lips. That simply wouldn't do. "Push everything back and give me an hour here. I'm gonna need it."

"Yes, ma'am." Liza opened her notebook. This was only her second day, and she'd already figured out that the President was always going to need some wiggle room in her schedule. "That means you won't get back to the residence until sometime after seven thirty."

"If I'm lucky," Dev grumbled as she stood in front of the door to her office and waited for an immaculately dressed man to let her in. She wondered if she'd ever become accustomed to people whose sole purpose appeared to be to open doors for her.
Okay. There's nothing to be nervous about. You respect her work. All right... you
love
her work. So what? You've met accomplished people before
. Dev drew in a deep breath. She was an expert at burying how she felt. "I'll be ready to move on in an hour." She reached over and tugged on Liza's sleeve. "Do me a favor and find me a corned beef sandwich, huh? The food they served at the luncheon wasn't even close to edible."

"Right away. What about...?" Liza gestured to the door.

"Oh, yeah."
Where are my manners?
"Hold on." Dev squared her shoulders and walked into the Oval Office, pushing aside the immediate thrill she felt just from entering the room. That's when the dark-haired woman got her first real life glimpse of Lauren Strayer.
Wow. Not just cute.
Dev mentally amended her assessment of Lauren's looks, based on her photograph.
Beautiful.
Dev cleared her throat gently, and the writer's head turned, slate gray eyes fastening on Dev's face. Dev's lips immediately curled into a smile, and she greeted Lauren warmly while remaining at the door. "Hi. I've been looking forward to meeting you. I'll be right with you, I promise. I'm just making sure I get enough sustenance to keep from passing out." She stopped and took a breath.
Okay, I usually don't talk that quickly
. "Would you like a sandwich?"

Lauren practically jumped to her feet. She hadn't even heard President Marlowe come in. It had taken her all of two seconds to commit her first breach of White House etiquette. "Hi."
God, television does not do her justice.