The President's Wife - Kathy Myme Page 0,69

happened between David and me… has it really changed him that much? After he flew to Cali just so he could apologize to me, he’d told me he could have me and also stay in control.

But maybe all that meant is that… he’d figured out a way to control me.

“You look worried,” Andrews says. “Are you?”

I shrug. We’re still in a busy dining room and I can’t lose my cool here. “I’m… fine.”

He doesn’t look so convinced. “Veronica… you don’t have to act around me.” He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling. “Remember, I know your secrets. I’m in on the act.”

“It’s just… people are still watching us here,” I explain.

“Then why don’t we go somewhere a little more private?” he offers.

“Private?”

“You seem to have a lot on your mind,” Andrews says softly. “Especially when it comes to the President. I’m more than willing to listen to any concerns you might have.”

“So you can report back to David?” That’s the last thing I want.

He spreads his hand over his heart. “It’ll be between us. Scout’s honor, ma’am.”

Should I really be doing this? I’m not sure. It feels… weird to share my thoughts about all of this with someone else, especially someone who’s not David.

But Andrews is the only one around who knows the truth.

“Then let’s talk.” I agree before I can change my mind.

David

My phone buzzes and I read the message.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have an urgent meeting,” I say. The men in the room nod and murmur, but before anyone can stop me I’m up and out.

I walk quickly through the White House, down the lesser-used corridors. Then, after checking to make sure no one else is around, I enter one of the unused offices in the basement.

Miss Robertson is waiting for me, sitting on the desk. As I enter, she stands. “Mr President.”

“You’ve got something for me?”

She opens a folder and I walk over and take a look.

“I’ve gone through every photo the blackmail sent you, and cross-referenced them with the ones the leaker sent to the press.”

I nod, looking at all the photos in the folder. The pile is as thick as a book.

“Now most didn’t have anyone in the background, or sometimes just part of an arm or hand,” she continued. “But in those that did, I recorded who was in them.”

“Good,” I reply, staring at the photo of me on Veronica. The leak that had got me into trouble in the first place. “And?”

“Well, just going on the ones printed in the press, I ruled out basically everyone. Your entire inner circle, the cabinet, all the upper White House officials.”

I frowned. To have access to the information the leaker had, they would have to have been someone close to me. This was looking like a dead end.

“So I went through just the blackmail photos,” Miss Robertson continued. “I figured maybe the ones in the press weren’t from the same leaker, or they could have had another source. But the blackmail photos-”

“Of course,” I cut in. “The blackmail ones are the only ones we are certain came from the leaker.”

“Exactly.” Miss Robertson nodded. “And so I narrowed it down to seven people.”

Seven people. This was incredible news. For months, I’d been scrambling to find the leak and now it was just one of seven people.

“We can work with that,” I say. “Okay, so let’s-”

“I’m not quite done yet, sir,” Miss Robertson says with a faint smile. “Now, if you look at this photo here…”

She passes me a photo of Veronica and I in the hallway.

“What about it?”

“In the background, you can see the French Ambassador, see?”

I look closely. “Yeah, and?”

“Well, I remember working late that day because your cabinet were all at a party meeting in New York. I had to stay late to wait for them to get back and get some footage of them for some online content we were pushing out. I bumped into the French Ambassador and had a chat with him over coffee to kill some time.”

I nod. I think I see where she’s going, but she’s talking so fast I don’t want to interrupt.

“So, given that none of your cabinet were in the White House that day, it can’t have been any of them.”

“How many are we left with then?”

“Three.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Three?”

Miss Robertson smiles. “For now. One of those three is the Vice President.”

I smile. The Vice President was on the other side of the country, hiking in the middle of the wilderness. “I think his