“Well, there are no horses. I’m used to sleeping in a stable.” Wendy’s eyes opened wide, and Leif burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. This has been great. You have been…a wonderful tour guide. It’s just all so overwhelming. But I guess a guy could get used to it.”
Wendy laughed with him, and then pouted. “I’m sure you and Dad have lots of important business to discuss. Will I get to see you again?”
“I don’t leave until the day after tomorrow, and yes, I’d love that. It looks like there’s so much to do right here we won’t even have to go anywhere. Although maybe you’d like to get out of the ‘House’?” He grinned mischievously. “Since you’re such a good tour guide, how about if you show me the sights in DC tomorrow after I’m done with whatever your father has planned for me? That is, if you have his permission. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with the boss.”
She grimaced. “Oh please, I don’t need Daddy’s permission. But I do like that you’re a gentleman,” she added coyly.
“Then it’s a date.” Leif bowed and bid her farewell. “I’m an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy, but I’m sure dinner won’t run so late tonight that we couldn’t do something afterward—maybe get a cup of coffee or something?”
“How about bowling? Let me know when you’re done and I’ll beat the pants off of you.” Wendy smiled suggestively.
“I’m sure you will.” Leif detected her double meaning and realized he was probably playing with fire. “You have a lot of practice, I bet.”
“I guess you could say that.” And with that, Wendy said good-bye and walked away, strutting casually down the hallway.
That same friendly ease interspersed with sexual tension pervaded their bowling match, and Leif found himself irresistibly drawn to the president’s daughter, yet realized he was on new and probably dangerous turf.
So he continued to behave like the utmost gentleman, trying not to stare as he watched her from behind in her tight black jeans as she approached the alley, bending over to release her ball.
In the end, she beat him, but just barely. He was a good all-around athlete, but she had obviously had lots of practice with a bowling alley in her own house.
They kept their conversation light, talking about college, being the youngest among their siblings, and their mutual love of music. Although he liked classic songs and she favored more popular music, they had some common ground in country-rock. And while she had never been horseback riding, she said she enjoyed watching horse racing. It was a start.
Leif found it very hard to part ways with her that night but did so, keeping his affection to a hug and kiss on the cheek. She had gazed into his eyes with longing, but remained a lady, accepting his kiss and wishing him a good night’s sleep, telling him she was looking forward to the next day.
Leif didn’t have too much time the next day for fun.
The president had briefly explained the purpose of his trip during the previous night’s dinner. He wanted Leif to head up a governors’ advisory task force on US relations with the Middle East.
“Since you were so adept at uncovering Leon Slater’s terrorist backings, I’m confident you can lead the other governors I’ve selected to start looking at finding a real solution to the mess over there,” Martin Greene told Leif. “I’ve chosen governors who are popular among their constituents and who are doing the best job at running their states. I want you all to show the nations in the Middle East, including Israel, how they can govern their own people and yet work together with each other—like the United States do—to form a peaceful union, whether they agree on various issues or not. And who better to lead the group than the most popular governor of all?”
Leif hesitated before accepting Martin’s offer. “I like the idea, but Mr. President, I am still relatively new in office. Perhaps I could be part of the team and let one of the other, more experienced governors take charge?”
But the president shrugged that off. “Some people are just naturally gifted at diplomacy and relations with people, and I think you’re one of them.”
“Thank you, sir.” Leif shook the president’s outstretched hand and grinned. “I can’t very well say no to the president now, can I?”
Greene told Leif that he had lined up a press conference that afternoon to introduce the new task force. “This will boost your profile and popularity even further,” Greene said. “It’s a win-win.”
Unfortunately for President Greene, his scheme once again ended up being more of a win for Leif Mitchell and loss for himself.
In a one-o-clock press conference in the White House Press Room, the reporters attacked the president for wasting more taxpayers’ dollars by having a bunch of governors try to solve the Middle East problem.
“Instead of putting this off on other elected officials who should be running their own states, shouldn’t you be tackling the problem yourself, Mr. President?” one gutsy reporter asked.
Another was equally brazen. “President Greene, are you just using Governor Mitchell and his recent popularity and notoriety to deflect the negative press you’ve been receiving?”
“Of course not!” a red-faced President Greene sputtered into the microphones, becoming visibly indignant.
“Governor Mitchell, what do you think of this whole plan?”
“I think it makes complete sense,” Leif said in his slight Kentucky drawl, naturally radiating his cowboy allure. “And I am offended y’all think the president is using me or any of the governors he’s chosen to be on the task force. I am honored to be part of this project, and I think you have it backwards. I am lucky to be in the president’s company and to benefit from his leadership and knowledge.” He shot them all a big grin. “If anything, he’s helped me, not the other way around.”
Martin Greene appeared to relax as Leif spoke, relieved that his plan hadn’t totally backfired.
Leif didn’t walk out of the press conference and meetings that followed until close to five p.m. He was supposed to have met Wendy hours earlier for their tour of DC but had gotten word to her through one of her father’s assistants that they were running extremely late.
She was waiting in the limo that met him in the high-security underground garage so they wouldn’t be bothered by the press. He sidled next to her in the backseat and the limo took off.
“I’m so sorry things took so long,” Leif told her. He noticed she looked beautiful in a mid-length red dress and white faux fur coat.
“It’s not your fault,” she replied, rewarding him with her beatific smile. “I’m just glad you’re finally free.” She put her hand on top of his. He turned his over so he could hold hers and glanced up. She was staring at him with a look of passion glinting in her eyes, and he felt as if a volt of electric coursed through his body.
The limo pulled up as close as it could to the Washington Mall, about halfway down its length. In one direction they could see the Washington Monument, backlit by a breathtaking sunset. In the other, they gazed at the Capitol bathed in a rosy glow. Both looked magnificent, surrounded by the newly fallen snow.
Leif felt another surge of adrenaline course through his veins, this time prompted by the realization that he was sitting at the core of the most powerful country in the world. It seemed like God was smiling on His kingdom, at least for the moment.
After a riding tour past the Jefferson Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial and several war memorials, Wendy directed the limo driver, and in a few minutes they pulled up in front of an obscure little restaurant tucked away on one of the side roads.
“I don’t know about you but I’m starved,” Wendy said.
The Red Moon Café was no more than the basement of a townhouse. Wendy had reserved the entire restaurant, although there were a dozen tables inside.
Leif and Wendy shared a bottle of cabernet and an assortment of appetizers she had ordered ahead of time. After sharing an entrée, they split the restaurant’s famous tiramisu.
They chatted and laughed throughout dinner, b
ut decided not to linger too long. Even though they knew the owner wouldn’t take any chances on offending his star diners by alerting the media, they also realized reporters always had a way of sniffing them out, so, limo waiting, they managed to ride back to the White House, sight unseen.
A full moon lit up the clear night sky, and the air was unusually warm, so Wendy suggested they take a stroll through the Rose Garden before retiring.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Wendy walked ahead of him, stopping to smell some of the winter roses that bloomed year-round.
“It’s not as beautiful as you.” Leif stood there in his black suit, red tie, and black cowboy hat, the most eligible bachelor in the country. “Thank you for a wonderful time tonight.”
She had turned around and their eyes locked for a moment. “You’re welcome,” she said, taking a step closer until their bodies were almost touching.
“Will I get in trouble if I kiss you, or will the SWAT teams shoot me down?” Leif teased.
Wendy put her arms around his neck, and he kissed her slowly, passionately.
“I better get you home,” Leif said.
“I am home, silly.”
“You know what I mean.” They went back inside and parted to go to their separate rooms, darting glances over their shoulders and smiling at one another like two swooning school kids.
Leif had just changed out of his suit and tie into a comfortable pair of lounge pants when he heard a light tap on his door.
He opened it just a few inches, enough to peek out and see it was Wendy.
“Can I come in?” Her voice seemed shy and small.
He opened the door and she stepped into the dimly lit room, still in her red dress and heels.
“What’s wrong, Wendy?” Leif asked, flustered. He closed the door behind her and frantically looked around for his shirt.
“I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep without another kiss.” Her teasing girl voice had deepened into a woman’s, husky with desire.
And in seconds, her dress fell to the floor, revealing lacy black lingerie. She kissed him, her arms wrapping around his bare shoulders, and they fell backward onto the bed.
“But what about…?” Leif’s head was spinning.
“No one will hear us. We’re almost a half mile apart from my parents.” And she kissed him again hungrily, silencing his protests.
CHAPTER 7
Chessa
It should have been a joyful day, standing by her husband’s side as he publicly announced his candidacy for president of the United States.
If not for what she had learned in Al-Anon, she probably would have hid in a closet or run away screaming. But instead, here she stood, the dutiful wife, putting on a smile for the cameras.
“This too shall pass,” she kept reminding herself. They’re watching. Keep smiling.
It was warm for a January day in New York, with temperatures in the fifties. Darren was making his announcement at the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park on Roosevelt Island overlooking the East River.
Thousands of supporters carrying “Richards for President” signs cheered in the open tree-lined triangular garden that was at the southern tip of the park, bordered on either side by water and panoramic views of Manhattan and Queens.
On the large platform constructed at the garden’s narrow tip, Darren stood with Chessa on one side, Pete Connor on his other, and dozens of aides and other campaign advisors behind him, as well as his parents and sister. They were separated from the media hordes by a wide podium. Behind them was the concrete contemplative square plaza, on which hung an enormous American flag. And behind it the expectant crowd had a view of none other than the breathtaking city skyline.
“We are standing here today, on this historic spot, for this historic occasion. It will be historic because it will hopefully be the beginning of a new leadership that will transform a weary America into a nation that is bolstered again by pride in itself, that shines a light of truth and justice out to the rest of the world.” Darren had hired one of the country’s best speechwriters to work with Pete.
“As Franklin Delano Roosevelt, one of the greatest presidents—who was also from this great state of New York—once said in his famous ‘Four Freedoms’ speech, ‘I address you at a moment unprecedented in the history of the union. At no previous time has American security been as seriously threatened from without as it is today.’
“Back when he gave that speech, we were facing World War II, a war against dictators who were threatening the democracy of other nations, a war that threatened our very own democracy. I believe the same is true in a very real sense today as we continue our war against an equally dangerous foe: the terrorists of the Middle East. And we need a new, stronger leadership to take charge and destroy this threat to democracy, and to our very peace and safety right here in America.
“As President Roosevelt said: ‘We are not at peace so long as those dictators and terrorists are out there.’ Those four basic freedoms he addressed—freedom of speech and expression, freedom of worship, freedom from want or economic insecurity, and last but not least, freedom from fear—are our rights as Americans. The terrorists seek to eliminate those very freedoms. Since the current president and his administration are doing little to nothing to protect them, we are becoming precariously close to losing them.”
The breezes off the water did little to quell the uproarious cheers coming from the crowd. Chessa had to fight from rolling her eyes. He loves to quote old FDR. She remembered his speech at Columbia University, the first time she met him. She thought he was so attractive, so smart. My hero. Looking out over the sea of admiring faces, she reminded herself that everyone saw him that way. If they only knew the Darren Richards I know now. But of course, they never will. She clapped like the rest of them. She had to.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the current administration has failed in its promises and its mission to ensure peace and prosperity.” Darren spoke in a compelling, authoritative voice. The audience was riveted. Chessa realized that she could hear the wind whistling in the trees and on the water, everyone was so quiet and attentive. “They have tried and failed to work with the Middle East countries that still are backed by terrorist regimes. I say it is time that Americans face reality. It’s time for a new age; one that looks back to the pioneers who circled their wagons to protect their families and hard-earned possessions. I say when you can no longer work with the enemy, then stop trying and start working within your own country to make it stronger.”
Darren went on to outline the tenets of his campaign proposal: to withdraw all troops overseas and instead spend the military budget to build weapons at home and further scientific and medical research; to continue to protect the environment and look for alternatives to the nation’s dependence on foreign sources of oil; and to reinforce America’s intelligence abilities and digital communications. “We need to start making America superior to its enemies,” Darren said. “But it will come at a price. Our current president has been fortunate to inherit a country that has climbed out of a recession. But as history shows us, we can’t just rest on our laurels. We need to make an investment in protecting our country and our land, in shoring up resources and in coming up with new technological and scientific breakthroughs for our people. I assure you these investments will pay off in many ways, including the creation of more jobs, a stronger government and ultimately a stronger nation.
“We need a new leader to rebuild our government which will, in turn, defend our freedoms, protect our rights, and ensure our prosperity,” he concluded. “I have been called to be that leader.”
News anchors commented that the event had been one of the most magnificent announcements of a presidential candidacy America had ever witnessed.
Of course the conservative and Republican commentators had a field day with the Senator’s speech, saying Darren’s programs would not only take the government back into the trillion-dollar debt of years past with all the spending, it would probably plu
nk America right back into a recession. They said his foreign policy could undermine all of the negotiations the current administration had started in the Middle East, possibly provoke the terrorist regime, and maybe even start another war.
Chessa didn’t really like the limelight that had been thrust upon her. But, she had to admit to herself, the thought of becoming First Lady was starting to grow on her.
Ever since she was a young girl, really, she had wanted to “make a difference” in the world by helping those less fortunate. If Darren wins I’ll be able to do that, she knew. If I can just put up with him and his ego—or perhaps, ignore him as much as possible. I’ll probably be traveling a lot to needy countries anyway while he’s back home here in the US. That’ll work.
Chessa was secretly disappointed that her gender still chose to focus on what she had been wearing at the ceremony instead of interviewing her about her views and her goals.
The fashion world bloggers and entertainment reporters were all agog that day saying Chessa Richards made a very elegant, trendy first appearance, looking stylish in a new Donna Karan cream-colored silk dress with a slight ruffle at the bottom and matching jacket with pearl buttons.
“Chic but not afraid to show her femininity,” one Entertainment Tonight emcee gushed. “Chessa Richards will make a fabulous First Lady if she continues to show up dressed like this.”
If it had been up to Chessa, she would have worn something out of her closet. A tomboy growing up and the daughter of a woman who liked shopping at flea markets and bargain basement sales, Chessa had never considered herself a fashionista. Her husband knew her frugality, her disregard for stylish clothing and her aversion to shopping, so he surprised her one night a week prior to the announcement ceremony by coming home and giving her a small gift. Inside a prettily wrapped small box was an American Express card. He told her to use it to buy herself a new wardrobe—she would need it. “And because I know you might need some help, I’ve arranged for my mother to go with you. She’s got all kinds of connections at the best shops in New York, not to mention great fashion sense.”
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