to. The question was, did he?
Now that he was calming down, he started to think clearly. Maybe he could make things right, call Spritzer, and apologize. He could always get a new cell-phone number. In the whole of his life, with one glaring exception, he’d never apologized to anyone. Only when Gabe had proved right about the purchase of La Natural did Lincoln apologize for doubting him. Other than that, the reason he never apologized was because he was never wrong.
So, why start now? Spritzer was right, there was nothing more powerful than the written word, and the one thing any politician learned from the git-go was that you never made an enemy of the press. As in never, ever. And he’d done just that in a fit of rage.
Moss leaned over and pressed the button on the intercom. “Send someone up here to clean this mess. And when you’re done, put some flowers in here. I’ll move into one of the guest rooms until things are returned to normal.”
Flowers! He’d send Spritzer some flowers. Women liked flowers. That should make things right.
Moss stomped his way out of the room, down the hall to one of the many guest rooms, where he headed for the shower. He stepped in the moment the water rushed out of the twenty-seven pulsing jets, still wearing his grungy clothes and Timberland boots. There were more ways than one to skin a cat, and he knew them all, he assured himself, as he peeled off his filthy, sweat-stained clothes.
The First Lady, also known as Emily Helen Knight of the United States, paced the family quarters as she waited for her husband to join her for lunch. He was an hour late, which was nothing new. When his press secretary called her midmorning to say the President wanted to have lunch in their private quarters, she hadn’t been the least surprised. Gabe needed to talk. Or he wanted her to talk. As in, share the latest White House gossip. She wondered what it was this time. Probably something to do with Lincoln Moss, she decided.
Emily Knight picked up her pace as she walked from one room to the other. She was a plain, pleasant woman who was often compared to a young Bess Truman. At first, she’d been insulted, then flattered. Bess Truman was a kind, gentle woman who did not let her position influence or take away from the real person she was. Lincoln Moss didn’t like her. He’d made that abundantly clear the day Gabe introduced her to his best friend in the whole world. He thought Gabe could do better than a farm girl from Kansas. But Gabe had defied Lincoln and proposed, and she’d accepted. They had had a wonderful marriage until they moved here to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Wonderful as long as she stayed out of Lincoln Moss’s sight. It was still wonderful in many ways when Lincoln Moss wasn’t in the picture, even living here at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the most famous address in the world.
Emily was aware of all the gossip, the insider backbiting, and the downright nastiness that went on within these hallowed walls. There were those who said Gabe couldn’t tie his shoes unless Lincoln showed him how to do it. It wasn’t true, but still they said it. In many ways, it was Gabe’s fault that he allowed Lincoln to overpower and overshadow him. Then there were the whispers about Moss’s little black book, the book everyone feared, even Gabe, if the whispers were true. Personally, she believed it and wouldn’t put it past Lincoln Moss to blackmail anyone who crossed his path. She’d learned the hard way not to interfere in any way in the relationship between her husband and Lincoln Moss. Every night, she prayed for insight and the hope that someday she would come to understand that particular friendship.
Emily looked down at her watch, a small gold face on a gold-plated expansion band. It had been her parents’ gift to her when she graduated from high school. She treasured it like no other piece of jewelry in her velvet-lined jewel case. To this day, it still worked, and she was never without it. Oh, she had fancy watches, one from Tiffany’s and a gold Rolex, but they were too ostentatious for her. You could take the girl out of Kansas, but you couldn’t take Kansas out of the girl. She was who she was, it was that simple.
Gabe was now ninety minutes late.