The President's Wife - Kathy Myme Page 0,51

you ready?” Jackson asks. “We should attend as soon as possible.”

I apply a coat of mascara. My war paint. “Ready.”

The march down to the dining room seems to take forever. I’m yet to eat in there since most meals have just been brought to my suite on demand.

It feels far too grand for a meal so simple as breakfast. In the middle of the room, there is a long ornate table with an embroidered white tablecloth. Silver dishes hidden by their lids run amok all the way from one end to the other, blending together in a metallic sea.

The sight of David at the table makes my belly do several backflips. He’s looking immaculate today, but then what did I expect? His shirt is crisp, his blazer perfectly pressed. The wildness in his eyes has been stripped away and been replaced by quiet sensibility.

There are two figures sitting alongside him. An older couple, their hair beginning to show splashes of grey. The man is incredibly average, with a kind looking face and an upright back. The woman is awfully glamorous, which is positively obscene to be over breakfast. I swear I can’t even walk in a straight line until I’ve had my coffee.

“Hello,” I say, oddly nervous. My eyes flicker to David far too often, but he’s looking at a spot near my head rather than at me. “My name is Veronica. How do you do?”

I cringe at my own words. ‘How do you do’? It’s like my brain reverted to a 1920’s maid.

“Veronica Waters, yes?” The woman is first to speak, holding her hand out for me to shake. “You’re…” Her eyes trail to David.

“This is my lovely fiancée, yes,” he says, smiling broadly. In a second, he’s risen from his place at the table and is standing up to place his arm around me. “Veronica, darling, I’d like you to meet Emily and Harry Reginald. Emily is the ambassador from the United Kingdom.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say softly. What on earth are you meant to say in situations like this?

More importantly, what are you supposed to say when the President’s arm is around your shoulders? The warmth of him is enough to send my body haywire.

But he still hasn’t even looked at me properly.

“Take a seat, Veronica,” David continues, pulling out a chair for me. It’s the seat furthest away from his own. “We were just about to dig in.”

Once we’re all sitting, Emily wastes no time. “I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, Veronica, but I have to admit that there are a lot of rumors going on around you at the moment. Every newspaper I read seems to have your face on it.”

“That’s the price you pay for agreeing to marry the President, I suppose,” her husband chuckles softly. “No offense, Shepard.”

“None taken.” David smiles thinly. “I don’t think I’d be so quick to marry me in her place.”

“And what’s all this I hear about an attack last night?” Emily asks, looking between us. “David, am I right in hearing that some crazed lunatic attacked your lovely companion here?”

Something in David’s brow seems to twitch with displeasure at the memory. “Yes, there was an incident that occurred when Miss Waters here went walking unattended. I can assure everyone that it won’t happen again.”

He’s still angry at me about running off, I can tell. But could that be why he left last night? Something about it doesn’t seem plausible. He’d been angry, sure. But he’d also been willing to talk to me.

The David of today won’t even look me in the eyes.

Waiters come to dish out the breakfast offerings before us. It’s quite the feast. A stack of pancakes, towering over everything around them. Fresh fruit in every different shade of red, yellow, blue, and green you can think of. French toast that’s still steaming with warmth.

I let them serve me some blueberries and pancakes. I never can resist that combo.

“I’m very curious about you,” Emily says to me. “Will you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

“Um, yeah,” I say, every lesson of etiquette training I’ve received going straight out of the window. “I’m from California. I actually only just graduated from college very recently.”

“So there’s a bit of an age gap between the two of you, then?” Harry asks the President.

“I’m barely thirty.” That’s the grumpiest I’ve ever heard David sound. “She’s twenty-four.”

“How did you and the President meet?” Emily asks, a hand under her chin.

Oh god. We’ve never discussed