Cross Roads - Sisterhood book 18

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Cross Roads - Sisterhood book 18 Page 28

by Fern Michaels


  Martine couldn’t believe how excited she was at the plan swirling around inside her head. Satisfied that with a little tweaking, she could make it work, she let her mind wander to other things, like her small family. Such as it was. The day she’d taken the oath of office, her sister Agnes had kissed her good-bye, wished her good luck, and said she didn’t want to be part of Washington’s fishbowl. Agnes had signed up for Doctor’s Without Borders, and that was the last Martine had heard of her. God alone knew where Aggie was. Then there was Alvin, her brother, who had virtually said the same thing although he’d whispered in her ear that he was proud of her. He’d mumbled something vague about going to build bridges in India somewhere. So much for family. Now, if she had a dog, she would have a family, someone to celebrate the holidays with. Someone to talk to, someone who wouldn’t argue with her, someone who, she hoped, would listen attentively and not pass judgment. She could frolic and play with him when she went to Camp David. He or she could sleep at the foot of her bed. Maybe she’d let him or her sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom. Yessiree, very soon she was going to have a family if she didn’t chicken out. She could hardly wait.

  Three cups of tea and two glasses of orange juice later, Martine looked at the clock. Her BDB would be arriving along with her chief of staff any minute. The president’s daily brief always arrived just as the sun was coming up. She was still wearing her ratty old-friend robe and her fuzzy-bear slippers.

  When the COS arrived, they got right down to presidential business, which lasted all of fifteen minutes. The COS then inquired about the president’s health and asked if she had any specific instructions for him.

  “Actually, I do have something you can do for me if you can somehow do it without a media blitz. Can you get me a dog? A big one. One that needs a home, a rescue if possible. A shepherd or maybe a golden retriever. Gender isn’t important, but I think I lean more toward a female. Can you do it?”

  The COS looked stunned at the request, but he rose to the occasion. “Do I have a time limit, Madam President?”

  Martine squared her shoulders, and said, “Today will be just fine,” she responded in her best I-am-the-president-voice. The COS blinked, mumbled something about wishing her a good day, and left with the PDB.

  Martine found herself giggling when the door closed behind the COS. World affairs would be taking a backseat at least for as long as it took the COS to delegate her request to others. Satisfied that she had started her day on a roll, she picked up her phone and asked her secretary to come to her quarters. Plans were only as good as the follow-through. She needed help with what needed to be done. In order to do get any, she had to start in her own backyard.

  Martine settled deeper into the chocolate sofa and flipped through the channels till she found the home shopping channel. She narrowed her eyes to slits as she stared at the array of jewelry being hawked. Sooner or later they would show something diamonique.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2010 by MRK Productions

  Fern Michaels is a registered trademark of First Draft, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-2036-3

 

 

 


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