“Why are you telling me about him?” Billie asked.
Lane stopped just as they reached a conference room door. “Well, he wanted to meet you. I think he’d like to believe you’re subpar, because he thinks if you were any good, he would have found you. Just say hello. You don’t have to answer any questions. Just don’t be intimidated.”
“I won’t be.” Billie was determined to give this Michael Johnson a fit if she could. “I can handle headhunters. Let’s go.”
When Lane opened the door to the conference room, the first thing Billie saw was a woman sitting at the large table in the middle, with several sheets of paper laid out in short stacks. The woman was on the phone. It wasn’t until she turned her attention to the left, where there was a man standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows, did she have to catch her breath.
It couldn’t be.
She blinked, wondering if she was seeing things. She had actually thought about the man she’d encountered on the train last week a few times since then. But this wasn’t her imagination. This was real life and he was standing at the window, looking at her with just as much surprise as she was.
“Billie Carter,” Lane said, walking over to Michael, “this is Michael Johnson, our headhunter. He was eager to meet you.”
Lane stopped midway as he realized that Billie hadn’t moved from where she was standing. She forced herself to recover from her shock and pull herself together. She took a deep breath and headed over toward him.
Michael took a few steps to meet her halfway. By this time, the look on his face, clearly caught off guard, was composed and unreadable. He held his hand out to her.
“So you’re Billie Carter,” he said, no hint of that Southern twang from before.
“And you’re Michael Johnson.” She took his hand and gripped it as firmly as she could.
His hands were warm and strong. Fortunately for her, the shake was quick and done in a second.
“Um . . .” Lane looked from one to the other. “Am I missing something here?”
“Mr. Johnson and I ran into each other on the Metro a while ago,” Billie informed him.
“So you remember that?” Michael asked. “It was a very brief moment you seemed eager to get away from.”
Billie found that to be an unexpected reaction. Was that how it seemed?
“Well, it was my stop,” she said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“I hear you wanted to meet me to prove to the company how much of a mistake they made in hiring me.”
“Well . . .” Lane wasn’t sure how to recover from that. “I wouldn’t say that. . . .”
Michael smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t say that is exactly what Lane is trying to say.”
“Wouldn’t you?” she asked.
Michael lifted his head just enough to seem haughty as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I’m sure you’re a good lawyer, but I know for a fact that I had several excellent candidates for this position—the tops in their field.”
“But I’m here and they’re not.” She smiled, making sure her tone was playful so as not to seem too bitchy.
“I guess the best person isn’t always the right person,” he said as his dark eyes bore into hers.
“Or,” Billie offered, “maybe the best person doesn’t need help from a recruiter to get the right job.”
She knew she’d hit a nerve. That confident smile flattened a bit, just a bit.
“I don’t think anyone here would question the process I have,” he said. “You’ll see that the turnover at this company, at most of the companies that I work with, is directly related to people not hired through me.”
“So you’re already predicting a quick end to my tenure here?” Billie’s tone couldn’t hide that this offended her.
His left hand went to his hip as stared at her intently. “I’m just saying that my candidates at this company have always been the most successful long-term and others haven’t.”
“Well, I’ll just have to prove you wrong, Mr. Johnson.” Billie smiled just sweetly enough to make it seem fake. “It’s been so nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” he offered flatly before turning and walking away.
Billie watched as he walked out of the conference room, not bothering to look back. She felt herself breathe a little now that he was gone.
It was too bad. She had imagined running into him a few times since first seeing him. In her mind, though, it would have gone very differently. He would be so excited to see her again that he’d ask for her number. She would give it to him and discover that she’d met her dream man.
Oh, well, she thought. That fantasy was shattered now. There was a 0 percent of it turning out that way, anyway. Considering her luck with men, one might consider that encounter successful. She didn’t intend on ever seeing Michael Johnson again, and it was probably for the best.
Sherise wasn’t quick enough. She was trying to get rid of all of the signs of her work before Justin reached the bedroom. Either she had miscalculated or he had run, instead of walked, up the stairs of their town house. The latter would seem strange, considering he hadn’t seemed to be in a rush to get home to her this past week since the doctor’s office confirmed that she was indeed pregnant.
“What are you doing?” he asked as soon as he entered the bedroom and saw what was going on.
“I’m just trying to tidy up,” she said nervously. “This place is a mess.”
There were papers strewn across their king-sized bed and she was trying to put them together and get them back in their respective folders.
“You’ve been working?” he asked.
He approached the bed, placing his briefcase on it. His frustration was evident on his face. “For Christ’s sake, Sherise. You’re supposed to be resting for another week. What’s the matter with you?”
Those were the doctor’s orders, but Sherise wasn’t trying to hear it. There was nothing wrong with her. It was just first-trimester light-headedness and her stressful schedule. A visit to her ob-gyn prescribed two weeks of bed rest. Sherise tried to explain to her that she had just accepted a position on a presidential campaign and needed to work. Justin sided with the doctor; and although she was touched by his concern for her, since he’d seemed very distant the previous few days, Sherise’s career was foremost on her mind.
“Don’t start with me, Justin.” She finally got the papers out of the way. “I’ve only been drafting some statements and doing opposition research right here from the bed, in my pajamas.”
Justin grumbled. “Didn’t you tell them that you need no stress for the next week?”
“Work doesn’t stress me out,” Sherise said. “I thrive on it, and you know that. What does stress me out is starting a new, extremely important job on the wrong foot. Trust me, baby, working is much less stressful.”
When Sherise told the campaign heads that she was unexpectedly pregnant, it was clear that they were disappointed. It was too late to rescind the offer, but she could tell that at least LaKeisha was wishing she could. After a short, surprised pause, Northman congratulated her and told her everything would be great. He was good at faking it, so Sherise wasn’t sure if he meant it or not. All she could do was promise to keep working, just from bed. She would have to Skype into their meetings and use her surrogates to fill in for her.
“Sherise, I’m not taking any shit from you on this.” Undoing his tie, Justin walked over to the dresser against the wall and began pulling things out of his pockets and placing them on top of it. “I’ll take your phone and your laptop away if I have to.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Damn it!” He slammed his fist on top of the dresser.
Sherise gasped, startled at his reaction. When he turned to her, she could see there was real anger in his eyes. It was definitely about more than her working from bed. She couldn’t let this go on any longer.
“We need to talk about this.” She patted the bed, gesturing for him to join he
r.
Justin stayed where he stood. “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re supposed to be resting, and that’s all there is—”
“Not me,” she responded. “You’ve been terribly concerned about me, and I love you for that. You keep saying what I need to do for myself and what I need to be careful about. You won’t mention this baby at all. You don’t want to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he retorted. “You’re pregnant. That’s that.”
“We’re pregnant,” she corrected. “And you’re acting as if a blessing is a punishment.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “I’m happy. I am. I just need time to adjust.”
“So do I,” Sherise argued, “but we should do that together. This is just as unexpected for me as it is for you.”
“Look,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her. “This isn’t . . . I don’t want to do this right now.”
“Then when?” she asked.
“Right now, we need to just focus on you staying calm, safe, and healthy.”
He turned and headed for the bathroom. She called after him just as he reached the door. He reluctantly turned back to her.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I want to talk about us, about our family.”
“Our family is fine,” he assured her, although the expression on his face was more of annoyance than anything. “Just take it easy, Sherise. I don’t want anything happening to you.”
As he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, Sherise felt like crying. She wasn’t sure if it was hormones or the ridiculousness of what just happened. Maybe she was pushing too much. They hadn’t been expecting this child, so it was a surprise. She was having a hard time adjusting to the idea of another baby too. After Justin had shot down the idea, she’d let it go. After all, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have her hands full working on their marriage, caring for Cady, and doing her job. Another baby could wait.
Now that she found out she was pregnant, she was concerned about the effect on her career, but mostly she was happy. Knowing her own boundless love for Cady, she warmed at the idea of having another baby to love the same. It made her more hopeful for her marriage, for her family.
Things were back on track, weren’t they? With a second baby, they’d have to make things work. Why couldn’t Justin see that? Or was it that Justin did see that and wasn’t sure about it? This baby was going to be a blessing for them. Sherise would make sure that it was.
Just as Erica was about to reach Jonah’s office at the Pentagon, the door opened. Out stepped an olive-skinned young man, with a smile on his face that went from ear to ear. He was tall and attractive, with an athletic build, dressed in preppy college-boy clothing.
Erica wasn’t sure what to do. His smile made her feel awkward, as if she was supposed to recognize him.
“Hi,” he finally said, holding out his hand. His eyes were light brown and his hair was dark and cut conservatively short. “Are you Erica?”
“Yes, I am. How did you . . .” Erica realized that she’d left him hanging and quickly reached out to shake his hand. “I’m sorry. Hello.”
His shake was firm and quick. Erica appreciated that. She hated long, drawn-out handshakes with strangers. Although, truth be told, this young man didn’t seem like much of a stranger.
“You know who I am,” she said kindly, “but who are you?”
“I’m Alex,” he answered. “Alex Gonzales. I just know your name because Mr. No . . . I mean, Jonah said he was meeting with you next.”
Erica nodded. “It was an unexpected call. Seemed urgent. Do you know what he wants?”
She hadn’t intended on coming to his office, but he’d called her three times already that day. The last time he’d called, she was almost on her way out, so she agreed to stop by very quickly. He’d only get five minutes she warned, especially since he refused to tell her what he wanted to talk about.
Alex’s smile widened, if that was even possible. It was contagious, making Erica smile as well. She could tell he was a very likeable person. He looked around her age as well, maybe a little younger. It was odd for her, since she usually did not warm to people right away, but she liked him immediately.
“I can’t tell you,” he said sheepishly. “He’d kill me. What I can tell you is that you and I will be seeing more of each other, and I look forward to it.”
Erica’s jaw tightened in anger. The nerve of that man!
“Look, Alex.” Her tone was becoming extremely serious. “I don’t know what Jonah told you, but I’m not looking to be set up with anyone. I’m not really dating right now, so I don’t think you will be seeing—”
“What?” He leaned away, his face racked with confusion. “I wasn’t talking about that. Jonah didn’t say anything about me dating you. Why would Jonah Nolan be setting you up with guys, anyway? How well do you really know him?”
Erica realized she’d just made two huge mistakes. One, assuming that this was a setup by Jonah; and two, revealing their unusual relationship to a stranger.
“Look, I . . .” She stepped around him quickly and headed for the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything. I’m just playing. I’m joking around. Just ignore me. I have to go.... See you around!”
She knocked rapidly on Jonah’s office door, not waiting for permission to enter. She escaped into his office and quickly shut the door behind her. She was embarrassed beyond words, hoping to God she would never run into him again.
Jonah, who was on his phone, frowned at the rudeness of letting herself in. She knew she must have looked embarrassed and he wouldn’t have any reason to understand why. Whatever the case, he waved her toward his desk as he hurriedly finished his phone conversation.
Erica sat down in one of the plush leather chairs on the opposite side of the massive desk in his office, trying to recover from her humiliation. Was Alex now suspicious of her relationship with Jonah? Would he ask more questions? Would he jump to conclusions? Was Jonah going to be mad at her? Should she even tell him? Who the hell was Alex, anyway?
“Hi, Erica,” Jonah finally said after putting the phone down. “I’m glad you finally agreed—”
“Who is Alex?” she asked, too anxious to realize she was being rude.
Jonah looked confused.
She pointed to the door. “Alex Gonzales.”
“Oh, Alex,” he said, nodding. “You met him? Good. Do you like him?”
“Who is he?”
“I’ll get to that later.” He waved his hand as if the matter was unimportant. “I wanted to know if Caroline was still giving you a hard time.”
“Well, I . . .” Erica leaned back in her chair, not sure what to say. She imagined the less said to Jonah, the better. “Why are you asking? I’ve never complained to you about her.”
“I know she’s had it out for you,” Jonah said. “She’s tried to write you up before, and I’ve put a stop to it. She’s tried to find out why you left my office, and she was slapped down. We’ve discussed this before, Erica. I want to make sure she’s still not giving you a hard time.”
“She’s a horrible boss,” Erica said. “But if you’re asking is she asking me questions about you—no, she isn’t.”
Jonah looked away, his expression doubtful. “I think she may still be sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“A government administrator has you spooked?” she asked. “I find that hard to believe.”
Jonah Nolan was not one to be worried about much. He’d made it more than clear in the past that people who had gone up against him had suffered the consequences. Sometimes those consequences were severe, but they were never traceable to him. He was extremely confident and excessively connected. He made the things that he wanted happen, and he prevented things he didn’t want from happening.
Jonah sighed as if annoyed by the entire thing. “I’ll just have her fired. That will be easy. Strip her of all her clearances. That should do it.”
“
Wait.” Erica shot forward in her seat. “Are you serious? You would do that?”
“I don’t like these annoyances.”
“She’s not an annoyance, Jonah. She’s a person. She has two teenaged daughters and a mortgage or . . . whatever.”
“So now you care about her?” Jonah seemed confused.
“No, I don’t care about her.” Erica wasn’t sure how to talk to this man. This seemed so easy to him. It shouldn’t be. “I don’t like her, but I don’t want her to lose her livelihood.”
“She makes you miserable,” Jonah said.
“I never told you that.”
“I know what goes on everywhere in this building,” he said. “She’s a nosy bitch. That’s a fact.”
Erica couldn’t deny that. “It’s not right, Jonah. Does that matter at all? That it’s not right?”
“Of course it does.” He hesitated as if trying to find some explanation, but eventually gave up. “Fine, you don’t want me to fire her, I won’t.”
“Good.” Erica grabbed the arms of the chair, ready to lift herself up. “If that’s all, then I—”
“I have another solution,” he said.
Erica moaned, slumping back into her seat.
“That’s enough of that,” he warned.
“I’m listening,” she said.
“You come work for me,” he said.
“Been there, done that,” she responded. “Not happening.”
“Not here,” Jonah said. “My campaign. I want you to come join me on my campaign.”
“For what?”
“Vice president.” Jonah smiled proudly in response to Erica’s stunned face. “There are some things to take care of first, but President Matthews will be announcing next week that I’ll be his running mate for the upcoming election.”
Erica wasn’t sure how long she was speechless, but Jonah waited patiently for her to find the words.
“What about . . . What’s his name, again?”
“McGarry has already said that he will only serve out the rest of this term because of his respect for the president and his lifelong friendship with Shaplin. He will not be on the ticket.”
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