At the Pleasure of the President

by Shayla Black

  Zack nodded briefly before turning Connor’s way. “You’re absolutely certain you took care of your problem in South America?”

  “If I were a surgeon, I would tell you that I cut out every bit of the cancer,” Connor assured. “No one is left to come after me and my wife. Consider that you’ve got an all-clear from me. Now we only have to worry about you and Gabe after Roman survives his scandal.”

  Dax took a swig from the beer he’d brought down. They only had a sad six-pack to share since Mad had asked them not to bring down a lot of liquor because Sara couldn’t drink. “What about Gus? Zack got Liz’s sister a lawyer to help with that part of the blackmailer’s scheme, but no one is talking about my sister. She’s still got that tape out there.”

  Mad waved him off. “There are, like, ten tapes out there. She went through a phase.” He winced when Roman growled his way. “Sorry. I appear in none of them. By that point I was just a friend.”

  Glowering, Roman turned to reply to Dax. “Gus doesn’t care about the tape. If this asshole wants to release it, she’s ready. She says she’s lost a couple of those suckers and would like them back, so whoever is behind this is actually doing her a favor.”

  Thank god for Gus. “So our only remaining worries are for Zack and Gabe. And the fact that I’m alive takes the teeth out of those threats. You’re welcome.”

  “Your living state lets Gabe off for sure, but Zack still looks like he halted a federal investigation to cover your shenanigans,” Roman pointed out.

  “They weren’t shenanigans, Mr. Calder.” At least Freddy was willing to stick up for him. “If Mad hadn’t done what he did, he would be dead by now. The Russians figured out he was investigating Tavia and her foundation. The beating was merely a warning. But he kept digging, so they planted the bomb to kill him.”

  At the grim reminder, the rest of the group tensed, every one of them looking his way.

  “It was why we picked that day. Well, picked isn’t the right word. More like they forced us to act,” Mad explained.

  “You were trying to tell me.” Gabe paled. “That day at the restaurant, you were trying to tell me, and all I did was yell about the way you’d treated Sara. I wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.”

  “I wanted to tell you, Gabe. But I couldn’t. I just…I wanted to say good-bye. I didn’t know what would happen, if I would ever come back, and it felt wrong to not see you one last time.” Mad could still remember sitting in that restaurant in the Upper East Side. It had been the place their fathers went. The first time he and Gabe had gone alone, he’d felt like such an adult.

  “That’s why you left everything behind,” Zack said solemnly. “I suppose calling me was the only way you could warn me.”

  He’d had so little time to figure out a plan—not to decide how to fake his death. Freddy and Matty had helped him work out the protocols and details weeks earlier, just in case. But it had been so surreal, driving to the airport and getting on that plane, knowing there was a bomb on board, and waiting until the right moment to jump, wondering all the while if he’d ever be able to return to the life—and friends—he’d always known.

  Walking away when he’d been unable to warn his friends outright had been even tougher. But informing them would have put them all at risk much sooner.

  “Yeah,” Mad said finally. “I couldn’t say more.”

  “Because you didn’t know if I was involved.” Zack held up a hand to stop Mad’s forthcoming explanation. “Stop. We’ve discussed this. If I’d been in your place, I probably would have had the same questions. We’re good, Mad.”

  He still hated that he’d questioned one of his oldest friends, that suspicion had ever come between them.

  “Well, I’m back now, and once we put all of the grief behind us, we should have a party. A real one. Can we please do it up right? Because this, right here?” He gestured around the little room. “It’s just sad.”

  The rest of the guys laughed, but Gabe was obviously still upset.

  “I’m fine, man.” Mad reassured his friend with a clap on the shoulder.

  “No thanks to me,” Gabe groused.

  “That’s not true. After you got your jealous head out of your ass, you took care of the two women in the world who mean the most to me. You made it easier for me to do the job I needed to do. Now let’s finish this chat so we can join the women.”

  “Mad’s right,” Dax said. “I want to get back to Holland as soon as I can. I’m going to be tailing Paul Harding for days. I have to find a way to cover that up, and it will go over so much better if I spend some time with her first.”

  He honestly thought Holland was where he’d left her. Foolish man. And Mad would eat his shoes if Holland wasn’t already planning her own surveillance.

  “Has everyone read the report I sent detailing the dirt Lara dug up on Shorn?” Connor asked.

  Roman’s face twisted in distaste. Mad was sure his old pal would have worn the same expression if he’d caught his grandmother having sex. “How did that little asshole get two women to sleep with him? I don’t even understand that.”

  “He did come from a lot of money,” Zack mused. “That usually helps. But it doesn’t matter. If Wallace Shorn lied and he’s got a second family stashed away, he’s got huge blackmail potential. It gives the Russians a way to shut that pipeline down even if I resign, so that potentially cuts off one of my exit strategies. Freddy, have you verified the other information Lara found?”

  Freddy nodded. “Yes, Mr. President. I’ve managed to confirm everything, including our Russian friend’s data. I’m getting into the nitty gritty on your family’s connections.”

  “Check into Joy’s family line,” Mad requested. “I don’t know if she was involved, but after prowling through her life the last few days, something tells me she might have been. I don’t think she would have been making her own decisions though. Someone else was probably pulling the strings.”

  “If she was involved, absolutely. Joy wasn’t a political animal, but she did insist on that last campaign push through the Midwest. I don’t know why. I guess I never will.” Roman had gone grim again. “But I have a hard time believing she would plan her own death.”

  “You haven’t met true believers,” Connor replied quietly. “Sometimes the brainwashing goes so deep, the operative ceases to care about anything but the mission.”

  “Or she didn’t really understand the mission,” Dax suggested. “Maybe she thought she would survive the shooting and the attempt would be enough to sway voters.”

  “Maybe,” Mad allowed, but he’d thought of something else during the long hours he’d spent researching. “Or maybe we saw what they wanted us to see. Are we sure she’s dead?”

  The idea that Joy could be out there, waiting to show up at the worst possible moment, had haunted him. He knew exactly how easy it was to stage your own demise.

  There was a moment of complete silence that made Mad wish he hadn’t asked the question.

  “She’s dead,” Zack said. “I assure you of that.”

  “None of us saw her body after that first night.” Connor took up the inquiry. “Zack didn’t actually leave his room until the day of the funeral.”

  Because he’d been so shocked and horrified. Upset. He hadn’t gone to his election night party, hadn’t delivered a traditional acceptance speech. Zack hadn’t celebrated what he’d worked all his life to achieve because he’d been in mourning.

  “I saw her.” Roman finally stopped pacing. “I saw her body. I sat with her the night before the funeral, after the mortuary had finished prepping her. It was weird. I felt as if I couldn’t leave her side. If she played a role in this Russian power grab, the syndicate was done with her. She’d served her purpose. Our correspondence, all her talk of the future…if she was in on the plot, she was damn good at hiding it. Or she was trying to get out.”

  “She didn’t have to try,” Zack said. “We had no chance of winning—until she was killed. If we’d lost,
our marriage and my political career would have been over. She knew that. And maybe we’ll never know if she was involved or what she was thinking before she died. Maybe we’re pointing the finger at ghosts because we don’t know who else to blame. Mad, you’ve been reading through her private notes. What do you think?”

  “Everything she ever wrote felt well thought out and carefully stated. I can’t even find an e-mail where she wasn’t polite. She seems far too good to be true, but all my suspicions are just gut instinct,” he admitted. “Unlike your current girl. Damn, man. Liz can take a dude down. By the way, is there a reason Freddy is monitoring Liz’s mail?”

  Zack tensed, but Roman seemed perfectly at ease. “Because she’s close to Zack and it’s my job to protect him. The order to kill the FAA investigation originated from a computer in her office.”

  “An office she doesn’t keep locked because too many on her staff need access to it,” Zack pointed out.

  “Even if she did, I could easily get through one of those locks,” Connor added.

  Roman’s expression turned thoughtful. “Liz is horrible with computers. How would she learn to route an e-mail to make it look as if it came from Zack?”

  “I don’t think she did,” Zack said. “But someone wants us to believe that.”

  “She’s got some odd logins,” Freddy reported. “I’m looking into them now, but I’m not convinced one way or the other yet.”

  Freddy was never convinced of anything until it slapped him in the face—unless it was crazy conspiracy theories.

  Mad leaned toward Zack. “You’re right. It feels like someone wants to put a wall between you and Liz.”

  “How can they get a wall in there?” Roman teased. “He’s always on top of her.”

  A hint of a smile curled up Zack’s lips. “It’s the best way to make sure she stays out of trouble. Now, do we all have our list of questions and marching orders? Because I should go and do my job. I can’t leave Elizabeth alone for too long.”

  Were they all so foolish? “You guys know that the ladies are somewhere in this building, gathered and plotting, right? Everly took Sara to one of the color rooms.”

  Roman froze. “I should have known Gus wasn’t really working late.”

  Dax stood up with a sigh. “Oh, my sister is working. But if she’s taken over a whole room, I bet she catered the thing.”

  Connor glanced at his phone. “According to my wife, they’ve set up a whole buffet and found more than a six-pack.” When the others turned to stare at him, he shrugged. “What? I can’t help it that I’m more modern than the rest of you. Lara and I don’t do the sneaking around thing. If I sneak around, she does the same, and she’s so much trouble. This is precisely why I said we should invite the ladies. Their plotting meetings always have a buffet and a full bar.”

  “Face it, gentlemen,” Gabe said. “We screwed up. Sharing a six-pack doesn’t cut it.”

  “I thought the brew was excellent,” Freddy argued.

  “Said the guy who lives in a cabin without indoor plumbing.” Dax gave him the side-eye.

  Everyone else laughed.

  “Let’s go join our women.” Zack held a hand out, shaking Freddy’s. “Thank you.” He turned to Mad. “And thank you. I’ll have Sara bring you down a plate. I’m sorry, but you have to—”

  “Stay here so no one in the White House thinks they’ve seen a ghost. I know. It’s fine.”

  “Hey, I’ll hang with you for a while.” Gabe sat down again. “Have my lovely wife walk back down with Sara, and make that two plates of whatever Gus ordered. And a bottle of Scotch. I know Gus has one of those.”

  Mad shook his head. “Gabe, you don’t have—”

  “I do. You’re my best friend.” Gabe settled in. “And if you’re stuck in a bunker alone, I’ll keep you company until Sara returns.”

  Smiling, Mad offered his best friend the last beer, satisfied that he wasn’t alone anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  Liz hurried to the elevator of the building she’d lived in since the week after Zack won the election. That time in her life had been such a flurry of activity, including Joy’s funeral and the start of Zack’s transition to power. At the bottom of her list had been finding a place to live, so when one of her assistants found this unit for lease, it had seemed good enough…mostly because she hadn’t had time to look anymore. Now she wished she had searched a little more diligently. The unit and building were serviceable but lacked the amenities she’d been used to in the past. Still, it was close to the White House and within her budget.

  Vaguely, she wondered how much longer she would need this place. Her lease was set to renew soon…

  Refusing to wonder what the future held for her and Zack now, she pushed the button to call the elevator when her cell buzzed. Smiling, she slid her finger across the screen. “Hey, Gus.”

  “I just walked into your office and you aren’t there. As I happen to know Zack is in a meeting with Roman, you’re not underneath him, so how did you escape and can I join you? The interns are making me crazy, Vanessa especially. Can we fire her?”

  Vanessa handled way too much for that. She could be touchy at times and they’d had their differences of opinion lately, but she was reliable and one of the most senior assistants in the press office. Vanessa had come on board when Zack had hired her toward the end of the campaign, and she’d saved Liz from drowning. She remained essential to keeping reporters off Liz. “We can’t fire everyone who annoys you. We wouldn’t have a staff left.”

  “True.” Gus paused, telling Liz that Gus hadn’t called to simply chat. “So…I talked to Roman after the party broke up last night.”

  After listening to her concerns about Paul Harding and the trouble he could cause for Zack, Gus had promised she would discuss the situation with her fiancé and they would decide together whether to move forward with the interview that weekend.

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “Roman is adamant that we move forward. Zack agrees. And I’ll be honest, I think we’re too far down the road now to take an off-ramp. I know you’re worried, but we’ve got this.”

  “And if Paul starts giving interviews? You know the things he could say about Zack.”

  “Of course I do. I’m engaged to a man who believes that not only is the glass half empty, but it’s going to explode at any moment,” Gus replied. “Trust me. Roman has gone over every terrible scenario Paul could contrive. None of them change the fact we still have to move forward. If Paul publicly implies that Zack was cheating on Joy, we deal with it. Or is the problem that you’re afraid this public scrutiny might derail your relationship with Zack?”

  That was only one of her worries. “No. What I’m truly concerned about is that Paul might introduce the idea that Zack had his wife killed. Because think about it. Can Freddy really be the only one who’s pieced together all the footage from those rallies?”

  Liz hadn’t seen Freddy’s montage of assassination practices—and she didn’t want to. She’d lived through the real thing. But Zack’s description had been enough to haunt her.

  “If Paul spouts that kind of garbage to the press, we’ll handle that, too,” Gus replied. “He has no proof because it’s not true, so he’ll probably come off sounding like a crazy man, and he won’t win in the court of public opinion. And if worse comes to worst, we’ll bring Paul in for questioning and leak to the press that he has strong Russian ties. I doubt he wants that kind of exposure, especially if he’s involved with the syndicate. The truth is, we’re playing a game of chess, Liz. This is merely another move in that game. How Paul reacts may tell us whether he’s a pawn, a bishop, or a king.”

  “Okay.” She couldn’t fight all three of them. She simply had to brace for the worst. “I’ll start strategizing how best to prepare the team without letting them know too much.”

  “The interview isn’t for a few days. I’ve got press all over me, but I can handle it. Roman is struggling, but hey, the added stress is maki
ng for some lusty as hell sex. I’m counting it as a win.”

  Gus was the eternal optimist, but then she firmly believed she could bend the world to her will. Liz was more of a realist. “I’m glad some good is coming out of this mess. I’m heading up to my apartment to grab some fresh clothes. Maybe I should stay here for a while.”

  Because now that she thought about it, the likeliest scenario was Paul accusing Zack of adultery, and Liz knew the press would assume she’d been his mistress. It could cause a scandal that would hurt Zack both in the polls and in his reelection bid. If she pulled away now, they might change the perception or mitigate some of the damage.

  “I don’t think Zack will allow that. Get your clothes, then come back here. We’ll have happy hour,” Gus urged. “You and me. We’ll order some pizza and put veggies on it so the guys won’t touch it. If they come in, I’ll start talking about my period. Vegetables and menses—the perfect combo to send the guys scrambling back to their man caves.”

  Liz wanted to demur. She really could use some time alone to decompress, but Gus would show up on her doorstep if she didn’t return to the White House pronto. Not only that, Zack would have questions, too.

  When the guys had emerged from the bunker to invade their party the evening before, she’d kept her distance because Zack had never been big on PDA, even around his friends. She’d been surprised when he’d taken her hand and tugged her onto his lap.

  Was she, even subconsciously, putting off this interview because she was worried about their relationship? Did she think she might put Zack in a position to have to choose between her or the White House? They’d certainly been there before.

  “I’ll be back in about an hour,” she promised Gus. “We can strategize then.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” From Gus, the promise sounded a little like a threat.