The President's Wife - Kathy Myme Page 0,58

White House. Whatever David’s doing, I guess he’s keeping things under wraps.

David. The thought of him makes me feel so many different emotions at once. Even despite everything, a part of me wants to be with him right now. To talk to him.

To have his body against mine just like it had been the other evening.

Oh my god, I have to stop thinking about that.

I sit up from the couch suddenly.

“Where are you going?” Dad asks.

“I need to take a walk,” I say, heading for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

My neighborhood town is a pretty place. A stroll around will probably do me good. And it’s hot enough that I don’t need a coat.

I step out onto the pavement, breathing in the morning air. It’s fresh, just what I needed.

And then my eyes lock eyes with his.

David Shepard, the President of the United States, is waiting in my front yard.

He’s leaning against the fence quietly, waiting in a crisp blue suit. His head tilts upwards as I arrive. The slight breeze ripples through his dark hair, sending strands flying about in a messy manner I’m not used to seeing on him.

On the road outside I see members of the Secret Service dotted around. Guilt pools in my stomach when I see Jackson’s face. I hope he didn’t get into trouble because of my escape.

My jaw is practically on the ground. “David… I…”

I can’t read the expression on his face. Is he angry? Am I about to be yelled at for sneaking away and putting myself in danger again?

Memories of the last time David was mad at me for running off pop into my head. Bad Veronica. This is most definitely not the time.

“Veronica,” he says at last. “I’m happy to see you.”

When he speaks, I realize what’s happening. This isn’t David talking to me. This is the President.

We’re not alone. This is usually a busy road and I’m pretty sure I can make out people starting to stare out of their windows. I’m not sure how long David has been here, but he’s a recognizable man. His face is probably one of the most recognizable faces in the whole country.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” David asks. His eyes flicker to my dad’s house behind me. “Somewhere a bit more private?”

So much for my walk. Thoughts of David aren’t going to be going away any time soon.

If anything, he looks even better than I remember. Seeing him on TV already feels pretty special. The man has an undeniable magnetism. But in person? The full force of David is something to behold. I’m drawn to him helplessly, like a moth to a lightbulb. I couldn’t look away if I tried.

And here I am, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. I’ve been in such a slump that I haven’t even bothered getting changed. I doubt I’m looking my best, and I wish I’d at least had a chance to brush my hair.

“We can go inside,” I tell him, somewhat nervous. Who knows what I’m about to walk into?

None of this feels real. Seeing David in my hometown, standing in my dad’s tiny front yard… It’s like something out of a dream.

It makes me realize, not for the first time, how crazy this all is. How incredibly bizarre it is that I’ve ended up in this situation to begin with. The Veronica Waters that grew up here would never have dreamed of talking to the President of the United States, never mind being (fake) engaged to him.

Never mind the night of mind-blowing, utterly confusing passion we’d spent together.

I gesture for him to follow me, unlocking the door.

“Your friends…” I look at the Secret Service.

“They’ll wait out here,” David confirms. “This is a private conversation.”

My stomach flips. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one.

When I push open the front door again, I’m forced into a situation that I couldn’t possibly have predicted. David is behind me, but in front of me… is my dad.

He’s still sitting in his chair, but it’s clear he’s sizing up the man behind me. My dad isn’t a particularly big man, but there’s something about him that seems to intimidate other men. Maybe it’s that he’s not afraid to say what he’s thinking.

“Veronica,” my dad says slowly, although he’s not looking at me. “You’re back early from your walk.”

I look sheepish. “I ran into someone on the way.”

Dad clucks his tongue. “So I see. Care to introduce me?”

This is awkward. Obviously Dad