The President's Wife - Kathy Myme Page 0,5

you luck xxx

Lacey Smith is my best friend. She’s the only other person apart from Trevor and my dad that I’ve been able to stay in contact regularly with for the last few years.

However hard I’ve neglected my social life and focused on my studies, Lacey has always tried harder to be my friend. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.

I type a message back, despite being so helplessly lost.

Veronica Waters: It’s been a bit stressful. But I’ll tell you all about it later.

Somehow I find myself back in reception. A new woman, with hair even blonder and straighter, has replaced Rebecca as if by magic.

As much as I loathe asking for help, I eventually cave. It makes me feel like an idiot, but at least I’ll be able to get Mr Andrews his drink.

“The cafeteria? It’s just down the hall,” the receptionist tells me. I can see the judgement in her eyes. She probably has me figured out as some good-for-nothing nobody. Or worse, an intern. “Just down the hall, and then to your left, and then your right, and then take the fourth corridor going upwards and turn again.”

When I eventually find the cafeteria, it takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust. It looks absolutely alien to the kinds of cafeterias that I came across in high school and college. Gone are the grimy floors covered in half-eaten food and strands of hair. The White House cafeteria is all shiny leather chairs and freshly pressed tablecloths. Why had I ever expected anything different?

The queue is fairly long, but standing in it is at least a brief reprieve from being lost. At least I know what I’m doing.

But when I finally have Mr Andrews’ triple quadruple hazle-whatever in my hands, the next problem in my life rears its ugly head. Where am I supposed to go with it?

The Press Secretary’s office sits in the West Wing. So heading west is probably a good idea, then. But where exactly is that?

Perhaps I’ll be able to get a better understanding of the building’s layout if I step outside. I head out of the cafeteria, searching for an exit. When one appears, I take it without hesitation.

The open sky greets me cheerily. I take a deep breath, taking in the fresh air. I’ve barely been a White House intern for two hours and yet it already feels like much longer than that. So much has happened.

I look around, trying to work out where I’ve come out of. I’ve never seen the White House from this angle before. The area is fairly secluded, with high stone walls surrounding me and grass growing gently at my feet. Who knows where it might lead?

Still, I can’t afford to turn back. Mr Andrews’ coffee is growing cold with every moment I hesitate.

But as I pass further and further through the outdoor passageway, I start to grow worried. It only seems to stretch further and further without any sign of another entrance.

Maybe I should turn back. Maybe I’ve made a mistake.

“Damn it,” I whisper under my breath.

My first day - no, my first real hour - on the job and I’m already making errors. I hope Mr Andrews doesn’t think badly of me.

I turn on my heel and spin around, sighing as I do so. But instead of marching backwards…

I find myself with a face full of something.

“Mmphhh!” I scream, although it comes out more like a wail.

My legs give out from underneath me and the colors of the world around me spin. I’m half aware of myself toppling to the ground and half-aware of something else. Something unspeakably mortifying.

I’m not alone.

Someone is falling with me. Another human body hits mine and within seconds, it’s all over. Our legs are a jumbled mess, clashing and struggling against each other in a fight to stay upright.

My eyes are closed tight but I brace myself for pain. The moment before I hit the ground seems to draw itself out, stretching out longer and longer…

And longer…

And longer?

I open my eyes in confusion.

There’s a man on top of me.

A man who has his hands on my chest. Tightly.

Without thinking about it, I scream again.

“Hang on.” The man, it appears, has a voice. “Give me one second-”

Mercifully he extracts himself from me and rolls over, pushing himself onto his feet. I know I should move too… but it’s all I can do to lie there on the grass, blinking up at him. What just happened?

He offers me a hand.