America the Beautiful

by Laura Hayden

  Emily laughed. “Marjorie is trying to distract me.”

  “Oh no,” Maia added quickly, “she merely wants you to look as perfect as possible on stage. This will be your big moment and you should be mindful of your appearance.”

  It was hard to believe that someone so exotically beautiful and worldly looking could possess an outlook quite that innocent and simplistic. Marjorie had a deal with a couple of designers who could probably build their careers based on this exposure alone.

  Maia turned her attention to the scattered bags. “If you are satisfied with this outfit, then I must go now. I shouldn’t disturb you any longer. You have many important things to do today.” She looked up and smiled. “I am pleased to have been a small part of it.”

  Emily picked up the dress bag and hung it in the closet. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Maia.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Benton.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Emily.”

  The young woman’s smile magnified. “I hope to be calling you President Benton—”

  A roar from the living room interrupted her.

  Dozier knocked on the door. “If you’re decent, get out here. The returns are starting to come in.”

  East Coast, South, Midwest . . . As the results came in, the tension mounted in the suite. By 7 p.m., Talbot had won the first four states called and put himself in a thirty-three vote lead right at the start.

  To everyone’s surprise, Emily remained almost circumspect, her calmness masking what Kate suspected was a fear of failure, a word not usually found in the Benton family lexicon. “Well, this is not the rout I was hoping for,” she said.

  Dozier drained his highball glass. “Don’t fret, honey. Things’ll pick up soon enough.”

  An hour later, the tides had indeed changed and Emily picked up ten of the next twelve states, garnering a fifty vote lead. Wes Kingsbury popped in to say hello but immediately headed downstairs since he’d been asked to speak and lead the invocation.

  By 9 p.m., Emily’s lead had been cut to twenty-seven votes, but she still was in first place with over 145 votes. In typical fashion, Emily spent more time complaining about the states she hadn’t won than celebrating the ones she had.

  Dozier was the only person brave enough to take her on. “You only lost Texas by a hair, and you had solid numbers in New York.”

  “I wanted both.”

  Dozier contemplated his empty glass, twirling the ice cubes with his forefinger. “You’re going to win, sweetheart. Mark my words. Just be patient.”

  By 10 p.m., her lead widened to a little over forty votes, but Emily’s anxiety began to infect everyone else in the room. Kate found herself pacing in front of the large window and had to force herself to stop and admire the view of Washington National Cathedral, its lit towers reaching for the heavens.

  Between ten and eleven, the reports began to come in faster. Until then, the staff had kept Emily mostly away from the television so she wouldn’t blow out her voice yelling at the political pundits who had spent all night analyzing every single aspect of her campaign from her platform planks to her platform shoes.

  “Pennsylvania!” Chip called out, the Internet reports beating the network news coverage by scant seconds.

  Ten minutes later, he caught Kate’s eye and mouthed, California. After a quick calculation, Kate realized that Emily lacked only twenty-six votes. Florida, yet to be called, held twenty-seven votes.

  Kate made a command decision; it was time to move to the private box off the ballroom. Victory was within their grasp. She wanted everything to go smoothly. Emily had barely gotten settled in the private balcony when more reports flooded in, showing the rest of the states falling like dominoes in her favor.

  At 11:27 p.m., November 4, 2008, all four networks plus CNN declared Emily Benton as the next president of the United States.

  At 11:35, Charles Talbot made a frigidly polite and extremely brief call to Emily, conceding the election.

  At 11:50, Burl Bochner introduced Emily. When she took the stage, the throng of her supporters screamed and cheered.

  Energized by the excitement, Kate climbed the stairs two at a time to the private box to watch. Dozier, Dave, and several of the senior staffers were there. Dozier gave her a boozy kiss on the cheek. Dave, at the far end of the row of spectators, shot her a thumbs-up.

  From her lofty vantage point, she could see the entire ballroom, from the bunting-draped stage to the crowd who had paused in their celebration to listen to their candidate speak.

  Their president.

  Kate wanted to capture the feeling, drink in the moment, memorize every sight. She never wanted to forget this feeling, this place, this time.

  Emily had won. They had won. Although it had been the goal from the beginning, it seemed unreal. Surreal.

  Maia joined Kate at the balcony rail. “Emily looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” she said, close to Kate’s ear. “Every inch a president.”

  Kate nodded.

  “I do not understand why anyone would not vote for her. Charles Talbot would not have made a good president. He is not a nice man.”

  “I agree.” Please stop talking so I can enjoy this.

  “I read the papers that Emily had about him. About the terrible thing he did when he was young. That poor girl . . .”

  All sounds blurred together in the background—Emily’s voice, the applause, everything. The last vestiges of trust she had in Emily shattered into a thousand pieces. Disillusionment replaced excitement. Fear uprooted faith.

  All Kate had left now in her broken moment of glory was a burning desire to know why, when, and where Emily had chosen to betray their friendship.

  Kate wrapped her hand around the young woman’s fashionably thin arm and pulled her from the rail until they stood at the back of the balcony box. “Where did you see those papers?”

  “She had them on the touring bus. When I asked her about them, she told me she got them from you. That you had found information that Charles Talbot would not like the American public to know about.”

  Kate stared at Maia’s perfect, guileless face, the light of absolute innocence in her eyes. Then she turned and caught sight of Emily in the television monitor—shrewd, calculating, and triumphant. She pushed Maia toward the door at the back of the balcony and into the room behind it, where they had all waited earlier. A bartender was policing the area, picking up dirty glasses, and two security personnel stood at the far door.

  “Why?” Kate said in a terse whisper.

  “Pardon?”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I do not understand.” Maia had perfected the look of wide-eyed innocence.

  “Drop the act. You don’t think I didn’t investigate your background, do you? You’ve been in this country since you were four. You grew up and went to school in Hoboken. That stilted ESL dialogue and this ‘I don’t understand your foreign ways’ act is growing really thin.”

  Maia’s eyes widened; then she shot Kate a not-so-innocent smile that completely changed her flawless face from a naive beauty to a calculating one. “You’re more like Emily than I expected,” she said, the tinge of foreign accent gone. “She saw through me pretty fast. I thought it’d take you a while. But it’s a wicked good gimmick, don’t you think?”

  Kate ignored the question. “Tell me about the papers.”

  “What about them? You had them; Emily wanted to read them.” Maia leaned closer with a conspiratorial whisper. “You really should have locked the door to your bedroom. She simply waited until you were asleep and then she sent me to retrieve them. It’s not like they were hard to find or anything. I got the file, made a copy of it in the business center, and sneaked the originals back in place without you ever knowing. I didn’t even read them while I was copying them,” she said proudly, as if expecting praise for the expediency of her crime.

  The logistics were certainly possible and Emily’s motives were crystal cle
ar. But not Maia’s.

  “Why are you telling me this? And why here and now? Don’t tell me that guilt is weighing heavy on your conscience. I’d find that a bit hard to accept at the moment.”

  “Nah. It’s because I want to be honest with you. After spending three weeks on the road with Emily, I realize that I desperately want to work with her. And if you’re going to be her chief of staff, that means working for you. You have the reputation as a real straight shooter. What’d happen if you hired me and then learned what I did? You’d have me thrown out on my rear end before I could take another step. I don’t want to start my career in politics trying to hide a lie like this. I respect you too much for that.”

  Maia was saying all the right words, but the sentiment behind them seemed more than a bit forced, not to mention the logic was somewhat strained.

  She was telling Kate she’d be trustworthy because she’d just confessed to her breach of trust.

  “Look, I didn’t have to tell you anything,” Maia continued, almost pleading. “You never would have found out. And it’s not like Emily used the papers to expose Talbot to the world. All Emily did was make sure Talbot received a reminder of his upcoming college alumni meeting two nights ago. You’d already inserted the knife; all she did was point out the scar to him.”

  “Sure she did,” Kate said. “All she did was drop a veiled hint that she knew what happened and where. She didn’t care if she made a liar out of me. She didn’t care that I’d promised to bury that stuff forever. And she’d promised to respect my decision!”

  Maia grew defensive. “I didn’t say I agreed with her actions. I’m just telling you what she did.” An honest light lit her dark eyes for the first time. “I really do want to work for you. I want to help you help Emily. I have an advantage because she sees me as someone she can mold in her own image. I can tell you things. About what she’s planning. She likes confiding in me,” she said, her sense of pride obviously outweighing her common sense.

  Such idealism. Here Maia thought she had hidden her worldliness behind a naive facade, but the girl wasn’t nearly as experienced as she thought.

  Kate almost didn’t have the heart to burst her illusions. But some things had to be done. Otherwise it wasn’t fair to the innocent bystanders.

  “No,” she said. “Emily sees you as someone she can use to her own advantage. If the Talbot thing had blown up in her face, who would have been the fall guy? Not me. And certainly not her. No, you were the one who stole the files from me. Your fingerprints will be on the originals, not Emily’s. I bet the e-mail to Talbot even came from an account only you have access to. If Talbot raised a fuss, Emily would have made you the sacrificial lamb.”

  Kate had to give the girl credit. It took only a second for realization to dawn.

  “She . . . she used me?”

  “Of course she did. That’s what she does best. Give her an opportunity and she’ll do it again. Both of you are beautiful, smart, ambitious women. The difference is that she’s mastered the art of being ruthless without people realizing it. And she’ll stop at nothing. You might think about that before you take her as a role model, much less a boss.”

  Maia glanced at the door to the ballroom balcony and the door on the opposite side of the room that led to the hallway. “I . . . I’ve got to think this over.” She inched her way toward the hallway.

  “You do that. Think long and hard.”

  As Kate watched the young woman make a hasty exit, she thought back to her earlier conversation with Wes. The stakes were higher now that Emily had won the election. Soon she would be at the center of the most powerful government on earth, controlling the visible reins of the country as well as its invisible strings of power. As White House chief of staff, Kate would be in the best possible position to influence, guide, and if necessary, temper Emily’s actions.

  But Kate asked herself the same question she asked Maia.

  Do I really want to work for someone I can’t trust?

  Can I withstand a constant bombardment of my values, my faith, my morals?

  Do I go or do I stay?

  Kate stared at the television monitor that showed Emily and Burl standing with clasped hands raised high in the classic victor’s stance. The camera panned the stage, showing various party higher-ups—Melissa Bonner-Bochner, Dozier, Dave Dickens, Wes Kingsbury. . . .

  Kate turned away from the television set.

  Two doors led from the room. Two paths.

  Which one should she take?

  Right now, only God knew what would happen next.

  Kate prayed she would make the right decision.

  And took the first step.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Allow me to let you in on a secret. I’ve never really liked politics. I’m not likely to jump into a heated political discussion. I’ve never felt compelled to sway people into supporting my candidate, whoever that might be. Maybe that’s a funny thing to admit after what you just read, but it’s true.

  So this is less a novel about politics than it is about the trials, tribulations, and heavy burdens of people who work in politics. As the famous philosopher Stan Lee said, “With great power comes great responsibility.” To me, that’s one of the key issues of this series. Emily will be facing some pretty stiff challenges that come with the office of president. Will it be enough for Emily that Kate is her conscience? Or will Emily realize that she must forge her own relationship with God to responsibly wield the power of the presidency? With Emily’s soul and the fate of the country in the balance, I know what I’m hoping will happen.

  Emily is a stubborn woman. Then again, Kate is a patient one.

  I just hope that Kate’s patience lasts longer than Emily’s stubbornness. . . .

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama, Laura Hayden began her reading career at the age of four. By the time she was ten, she’d exhausted the children’s section in the local library and switched to adult mysteries. Although she always loved to write, she became sidetracked in college, where the lure of differential equations outweighed the draw of dangling participles.

  But one engineering degree, one wedding, two kids, and three military assignments later, she ended up in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she met people who shared her passion for writing. With their support, instruction, and camaraderie, she set and met her goal of selling her first book. She now has published ten novels, including the First Daughter mystery series, as well as several short stories.

  The wife of a career military officer, Laura has moved with surprising frequency and has now returned to her native Alabama. Besides writing, she owns Author, Author! Bookstore and is the head of the graphics department for NovelTalk.com. When not at the keyboard of her computer, Laura can be found at the keyboard of her piano.