In Plain Sight (Sisterhood #25) - Fern Michaels Page 0,58

can possibly be,” Myra said. “What about your family? What do they think?”

Amalie snorted. “He allowed me to call home once a month, and he wrote out a script for me to read. As far as they know, I am happily married and love, just love, living in America. Lincoln constantly sent gifts and flowers to them. I hate to admit it, but my family has become a little shallow since meeting him. They love the freebies and the attention he showers on them.”

“Understandable to a point,” Maggie said sourly.

“Now what happens?” Rosalee and Amalie asked at the same moment.

“Now what happens is we all put our heads together and see how we can make Saturday evening work for us,” Myra said. She looked around the glass-topped table, and said, “We’re open to any and all suggestions.”

Amalie raised her hand, albeit hesitantly. “What is happening Saturday evening?”

“A rather big event at the Four Seasons. The First Lady’s pet project for children with disabilities. It’s pretty much A-list only. Heavy hitters. Each table seats either eight or ten people. Each individual chair costs fifty thousand dollars. Annie bought a table for ten, and so did Dennis. That means we can take twenty people into the gala. Our people. I’m sure your . . . Lincoln Moss will be there, and I am just as sure he bought a table. He is, after all, the President’s best bud,” Annie said.

“How are we going to make that work for us? We only have three days to come up with a plan. Bear in mind there will be as many Secret Service agents as there are guests,” Maggie said. “By the way, I’ve called Moss a dozen times to get an interview for his nomination for Man of the Year. So far, he has not returned any of my calls. I’m not giving up, and I am not above camping out in his driveway.”

“Attagirl,” Alexis said.

A frown on her face, Nikki looked around the table. “Like Maggie said, three days is really only seventy-two hours. Whatever we come up with better be foolproof.”

“The Secret Service doesn’t protect Lincoln Moss,” Dennis said. “That means he’s fair game.”

“True. But despite what Annie said, we cannot be certain that he’s going to attend,” Isabelle said.

Myra chewed on her lower lip for a second as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I have an idea. At best it is risky, and the decision will be up to Amalie.

“What if Maggie makes one more call to Mr. Moss and mentions that Amalie is going to attend. She can say she somehow got a copy of the RSVP list. Reporters get that kind of information all the time from their sources. And they never divulge those sources. Now, having said that, we can either take Amalie with us as she looks now, or Alexis can . . . ah . . . return her to her original appearance with that magic red bag of her tricks.”

Before anyone could comment on Myra’s idea, Kathryn said, “How’s this for a shocker! We have Jack Sparrow escort her, in whichever persona she goes as, if she’s willing.”

“Oh, wow!” Dennis shouted. “That has to be the best idea ever!”

“It is daring,” Annie admitted.

All eyes turned to Amalie and Rosalee. Both women were white as the T-shirts they were wearing. “I . . . I . . . what if he tries to . . . take me with him. I’m not sure I can be in the same room he’s in. I think I’d black out.”

“We’ll do it!” Rosalee said forcefully. “I will be right at your side, Amalie. Who is Jack Sparrow? Can I bring Jason Woods as my partner?”

“Of course you can, dear. And Jack Sparrow is the Director of the FBI. I know for a fact that he despises Lincoln Moss,” Annie said. “Oh, and before I forget, the gala is black tie. That means I get to wear my tiara.”

Jack laughed. “And where will you be packing your heat, Annie?”

“Inside my blue garter!” Annie shot back.

Harry laughed so hard, Yoko had to pound his back.

“Be serious, people. Don’t worry, Amalie, we will all be there to protect you. You have my word that nothing bad is going to happen to you. Between now and then, you have to psych yourself up to attending, then leave the rest up to us. You’re a strong woman, you can do this. I know you can,” Myra said.

Amalie drew a deep breath. “Okay. Okay,

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