Second Honeymoon

Chapter 60

“YOU COULD’VE GIVEN me a heads-up,” Sarah whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “Seriously.”

Dan, sitting in the chair right next to hers, folded his long legs under the seat. It was bright and early the next morning in D.C., barely 7:00 a.m. “Nah, that would’ve just made you nervous,” he whispered back.

“Like I’m not nervous now? I am very nervous. And I don’t ever get nervous.”

As if on cue, the door next to them opened. An older woman with a mother-hen aura walked out, giving them a slight nod. She was clutching a clipboard against her chest.

“The president will see you now,” she said.

Sarah stood up, took a deep breath, and straightened some imaginary wrinkles out of her white blouse. A couple of panicked thoughts flashed through her head. Did I forget to put on deodorant? How do you talk—intelligently—to the president?

“After you,” said Dan, his arm outstretched. “He wants to see you, not me.”

So many times, Sarah had watched this scene play out when she used to tune in to The West Wing on television. But those were all actors. Make-believe.

This was the real deal. With only one step into the Oval Office, she could feel her heartbeat going into overdrive.

Is it too late to call in sick today? Not funny, Sarah. None of this is funny.

Clayton Montgomery, the most powerful man in the free world—and not too shabby a figure everywhere else—was a Blue Dog Democrat from Connecticut who’d been an All-American lacrosse player at Duke. Although that adopted southern pedigree helped him a bit on Super Tuesday, he never would’ve captured the general election without his wife.

Rose Montgomery—née Rose O’Hara—was a former Miss Florida and beloved TV news anchor at WPLG in Miami for five years before meeting Clayton. In other words, before the election she not only had better name recognition in Florida than her husband but also had better name recognition than his Republican challenger.

Oh, and she was also fluent in Spanish and could supposedly play “Hava Nagila” on the clarinet.

Montgomery won the presidency by twenty-eight electoral votes. The total number of electoral votes he won by taking Florida? Twenty-nine.

“Everyone, I want you to meet FBI agent Sarah Brubaker,” said President Montgomery, who was sitting at the Resolute desk signing a flurry of documents. His jawline was even stronger in person than it was on TV. He hadn’t even glanced up at her yet. “Two nights ago, she had drinks with a serial killer who tried to run her over afterward in the parking lot. Isn’t that correct, Agent Brubaker?”

“Uh, yes, I guess it is, Mr. President,” she said.

President Montgomery finally looked up and stared right at Sarah for the longest five seconds of her life.

Then he cracked a smile. Just as he did whenever he scored a point against his opponent during the debates. Just as he did when he posed for his campaign poster.

“And I thought I’d had some bad first dates,” he said. “Take a load off your feet, Sarah.”