Love Lonely

by William C. Cole

  Engulfed in the euphoric feelings of the day’s activities, neither was prepared to consider the consequences of their actions. At this moment satisfying their new found appetite was all that mattered in the world.

  Renée continued to thrust back and forth until David pulled out of her. He turned her to face him, they kissed. Taking a hold of her tiny waist he effortlessly lifted her off the ground. She straddled him with her legs locked behind his back. With her right hand she once again guided him into her.

  The thrusting intensified. Staying deep within Renée, David sauntered his way towards the bedroom. With her legs fastened behind and arms locked around his neck she focused on gently bucking him during the ride.

  Falling on the bed with him on top, the lovemaking became more passionate with every movement. Soon he was on the bottom with Renée riding him, controlling the rhythm. She rode him like she was bucking a wild horse at the rodeo. The night was a lovemaking marathon. An hour’s break for dinner which was eaten in bed then back to the sex.

  ***

  The next morning Sandy sat with the President and the first lady enjoying a breakfast cooked by the White House chef. The two women were quickly immersed in discussing fund raising ideas. Sitting at the head of the table the President read a daily paper not paying much attention to the ladies.

  The President excused himself after thirty minutes or so but not before having Sandy promise to stop by the Oval Office prior to her departure. The next hour was absorbed with the girls going over plans to champion certain world causes. With the blueprints in place, a promise to meet in a couple of months was agreed on. Sandy put Emma on hold for a month or two expounding on her need to stay home for a while. Arrangements to keep in touch and goodbyes were exchanges as the First Lady escorted Sandy to the West Wing.

  “Eva, the President is expecting Miss McGinnis,” introducing her by her maiden name.

  Legally documents read McGinnis-Watson but in most cases she was still referred to by her father’s name. For business purposes it worked best.

  Eva placed her telephone on the receiver, “The President will see you now.”

  “Thank you,” she said, then parted ways with the first lady.

  “Thank you for extending your stay. Emma has a million ideas for world welfare and social reform. She relishes the opportunity to have a conversation with someone who excels in the field of philanthropy.”

  “You wife has been instrumental in bringing some significant issues to the forefront. I’m the one who can learn from her.”

  “How have you been? This last operation worried me. You’re so important to the country I’m uncomfortable when you place yourself in harm’s way.”

  “I appreciate your concern sir, but I was fine.”

  “I know, I know, but to make things worse your father delicately hints that if something happens to you he is going to browbeat me with a satchel of his money.”

  She laughed, “His bark is louder than his bite. I think you should remain relatively unscathed.”

  The room went silent for a moment while the President gathered his thoughts.

  “Sandy I’ll keep this brief as I realize you would like to get home to see David.”

  “First thank you for everything you have put yourself through. Secondly, all joking aside, I believe you should consider reducing your schedule to live life. Those who care about you should become your primary focus. It’s important. You will realize it later in life. Don’t let this time slip away. Just a bit of advice from an old guy who doesn’t follow what he preaches. If Christopher becomes heavy-handed with the easing of your involvement I can deal with him.”

  “I have already advised him that I’m staying put for the next few months. He seems fine with it, for now. You are correct, as always. I’ve been entertaining the idea for a while now.”

  “Good.”

  The President stood then walked behind his desk, opened a drawer seizing a file from within it. He walked back and sat opposite Sandy, sliding the file across the coffee table so she could read it. It was titled Burn.

  “What’s this,” she asked.

  “It’s the FBI report on the fire at your father’s stables.”

  She opened it, leaning back to rest her back on the couch. The President did not utter a word. He also sat back sipping on an early day glass of scotch allowing her time to decipher the report. The report concluded what had been suspected that it was intended as a diversion. The woman who placed the actual marbles had been secretly detained. She never met or knew the persons that rendered her services. Her job was working for a feed company which supplied a number of stables. This explained why the positioning of the tiny fire bombs was amateurish as the preliminary reports suggested. The woman was paid handsomely for her participation. She was led to believe the marbles were a new product which controlled odor. The contact told her they had permission from the owners to test the experimental product. However, it was to be kept a secret from the staff. No other explanation was forthcoming. That pretty well summed it up. She put down the file.

  “Do we buy the story?”

  “Yes. The agents assigned are competent.”

  “Okay. Are we any closer to the ones who ordered the fire?”

  “Sandy, would you like to interrogate her?”

  “No. Cut her loose. There is no sense in creating a media circus over this. Besides the girl had no idea what she was getting into. She was just trying to make a quick buck, which she probably needs. Ruining her life won’t assist in finding the one responsible. Explain to her she is catching a break but we may need to talk to her at later date. Make sure she remains accessible. Keep her under surveillance. They will know we’ve made her. Chances are they will want to have a chat with her.”

  “Done.”

  The room again was silent as the file was returned to the desk. The President seemed uncharacteristically fidgety with his arms crossed supporting himself by leaning his backside on the desk.

  “Madison Taylor has concerns about the lack of information the CIA is providing her. On the surface Christopher is going out of his way to co-operate. There has been little substance to what he has passed on. She has reason to believe his is in possession of more.”

  “Sir, Christopher always knows more. That’s why you allow him to run our intelligence agency.”

  “You have a point,” he agreed. “Sandy, I have a gut feeling this fire was about you. I haven’t been able to piece it together yet, but I will. Until then, watch your back. Someone other than us may know you exist. Or, and I don’t want this to be true, someone within our organization that knows of your identity is behind it. If that were the case, it puts you in a dangerous position. Be careful.”

  “I will. Thank you, Mr. President. You have better things to do than worry about me. I will be watchful. Let’s keep this close. I would prefer my father not being advised until we have everyone responsible. He would want this girl locked up forever. Would you advise Madison and Christopher?”

  “Absolutely. Let me accompany you to the South Lawn. Marine One is waiting for us. I am flying past the airport. You might as well catch a ride.”

  “You spoil me.”

  They walked the hall of the White House making their way to the helicopter. As always the media would require an explanation as to this lady’s royal treatment. The official word would be she had taken time out of her busy schedule to meet with the First Lady with regards to some charitable issues.

  When they arrived at the lawn, the Secret Service was prepared to escort them out to the aircraft.

  She leaned to whisper something to the President.

  “The day is young. I believe I will adhere to your advice. I’ve decided to fly to Miami for a surprise rendezvous with my husband.”

  “He’s one lucky man.”

  ***

  The night was void of sleep. On the other hand it was plentiful of sex. Renée returned to her room to prepare for the days business. David did the same in his
.

  In a rented vehicle they drove to the farm housing their purchase. The meeting went well. Renée was immediately consumed with the two foals. The frolicking of the ponies had her grinning ear to ear. David was left on his own to handle the business aspect of the purchase. One look at Renée’s interaction with them cemented the deal. She had given her approval without uttering a word. The transaction was completed and they were on their way back to the hotel by early afternoon. Renée instantly fell in love. That’s all she could talk about during the ride. She was like a kid opening presents at Christmas. These two horses would be her first acquisitions as head trainer. The responsibility of nurturing them through the steps of producing two world class thoroughbreds now lay solely on her shoulders. She couldn’t have been more excited.

  Walking from the parking lot to the hotel entrance was the first opportunity for David to discuss anything other than the foals.

  “Renée I know you’re probably hungry but I have to opt out for some sleep. I think it would be best if we both retired to our rooms for a few hours. If I invite you over, we will never get any rest.”

  “Should I take that as a compliment?”

  “It’s an acknowledgment of your prowess in the bedroom.”

  “Flattery will get you everything monsieur Watson.”

  He smiled. Nothing more was said until they reached their floor.

  “Let’s grab a few hours sleep then hook up for dinner.”

  “Sure, that sounds great.”

  “Renée, the gentlemen that we bought the horses off today happens to be part owners of the BB&T Centre in Sunrise Florida and he’s invited us to join him in his private box tonight to see Florida Georgia Line. Are you interested?”

  “Oh David, I don’t think I like hockey games.”

  He burst into a deep laugh.

  “It’s not a hockey game. It’s a group.”

  “What do you mean a group David?”

  “Un groupe Renée, the hottest country band on the music charts.”

  “I’m not sure I enjoy that type of music. Maybe you would have more fun without me.”

  “No, I insist. Give it a chance. You might be swayed into becoming a country music fan by the end of the night.”

  “Well then okay, you’re the boss. I will keep an open mind.”

  “Perfect. We have back stage passes. Maybe you’ll get to meet the guys.”

  Marine One sat down in close proximity to her aircraft. She thanked the President and his staff then made her way across the tarmac to her own transportation. It seemed a bit curious to her that there was a black helicopter sitting close to her plane which seemed to be preparing for takeoff. As she approached the stairs of her father’s jet, one of her pilots stepped out to meet her.

  “Have you filed our flight plans to Florida?” she inquired.

  “We did but they were declined.”

  “By who,” she demanded.

  “FAA,” he shrugged.

  Just as she was about to storm up the stairs and contact the airport authorities to demand an explanation, from behind she heard her name called. She was being addressed by two well dressed men who appeared from within the black chopper. As they approached, she walked to meet them halfway. One of the men handed her a cell phone.

  “Director Young would like to speak with you ma’am.”

  She moved to a safe distance so not be overheard.

  “Christopher, why did you have my flight to Florida denied?”

  “How was breakfast? That White House Chef makes a mean omelet.”

  “Are these agents aware of my identity?”

  “Yes. They know who you are. Not what you are. They follow orders without question. A concept one day you may grasp.”

  It was a hot day. The sun was beating off the pavement. Sandy was warm, she was tired and all she wanted was to get to Florida to be with her husband. The Director was wearing thin on her. Discussing breakfast or for that sake anything was not high on her priority list.

  “Sir, what is it you want from me?”

  “I’ve asked the agents to escort you to Langley. After an initial analyzing of the computers I would like to pick your brain. I need you for one more day. You will be sun tanning with your significant other by morning.”

  Refusing the invite was unacceptable. This was her duty. It sucked big time. But it was the reality of her agreement. Everything in life played second fiddle to the country’s security.

  “What will be the official line for my visit?”

  “You and the First Lady are embarking on a humanitarian mission within volatile areas. Out of the goodness of our hearts, also at the request of the President, we have agreed to brief you on the dangers you face and outline security measures we will be putting in place to protect your safety.”

  “We will be there shortly,” she said then handed the phone back to one of her unbeknownst counterparts.

  After explaining the revised plan to her pilots, she boarded the CIA helicopter en route to Langley.

  ***

  Dinner was a delight. Brooklyn was rarely subjected to the sociable side of her boss. In all fairness, she didn’t think Jacob himself was very well acquainted with that part of himself. They had dined at a small Italian restaurant he occasionally frequented with clients. It featured a one page menu. No prices. Patrons had their choice of three or four main course meals. All the food was prepared fresh at the time of order. Exquisite was the best way to describe the taste.

  It was during their nightcap at Brooklyn’s residence that Jacob posed a question or what might have been construed as a suggestion.

  “Brooklyn, please don’t take this the wrong way.”

  Her expression turned curious. One never really knew what to expect from Jacob. Motioning for him to continue she braced herself.

  “I was considering having you clear my calendar for two or three weeks.”

  “I will make the necessary changes tomorrow.”

  “Good. I want to fly to England, make up some lame excuse about being dragged there on business so I can nonchalantly run into Serge. I miss him Brooklyn.”

  “So do I Jacob. You two are good friends. That is a lovely idea. I’ve been suggesting for years that you take time to vacation. It is long overdue. Consider it done.”

  He waited for a short time nodding in agreement and then told her, “I want you to join me.”

  She didn’t see this coming. Lost for words, she sat back trying to decipher what she heard. Her mind was scrambling for an intelligent reply. It wasn’t forthcoming. Her brain and mouth were not wired together at the moment.

  “Brooklyn, I’ve enjoyed our time together immensely. We seemed to have dropped our guard down. It makes me feel alive. I mean no disrespect.”

  “None taken,” she finally found her voice. “You’ve taken me by surprise Jacob. I wasn’t expecting such an invitation.”

  “I apologize. Would you at least give it some thought?” He began to stand preparing to make his way home.

  You didn’t serve the President of the United States as his executive assistant by being a procrastinator. Tough decisions were made instantaneously. Her work always demanded that, her personal life, not so much.

  “Jacob I have enjoyed our time together. It has been years since I’ve kept company. It never crossed my mind that my reinstatement into that world would be with you. Would it be proper if we entertained an idea like this?”

  “Who defines proper?”

  Both took a drink from their glass. Jacob sat back down while waiting on a reply. No words were being exchanged. Silent, staring into one another’s eyes, he anticipating her response and she was discerning right from wrong, realism from abstract. With a mind that processed as efficient as hers did, the decision was arrived at expeditiously.

  “I would love to join you Jacob.”

  “Wonderful. Tomorrow we will make the necessary changes to our calendars for a period of three weeks. I would like to treat you to my favorite hide
aways in Paris and Rome. We should plan on leaving as soon as our scheduling permits.”

  Jacob got up once again, this time making his way to the door. They exchanged their good nights. He surprised her with a kiss to the forehead. Brooklyn watched as he made his way down the path to the main house. Once back inside, she locked her door and retired to the bedroom. Awestruck but feeling more vivacious than she had in years, her preference would have been to skip right to morning rather than endure a night of staring at the ceiling. Eventually sleep would triumph fostering a clear mind to forge ahead with whatever the next few weeks had in store. Well aware the latter made sense, she closed her eyes setting the stage for the sweetest of dreams.

  ***

  Introductions were taking place back stage at the BB&T Center. Renée was conversing in French with a member of the production crew who was from Montreal. David stood beside his business acquaintances being versed on the backstage protocol. It was similar to the dressing room of a professional sports team, a sanctuary which only a select few were granted access.

  David was familiar with the facility. The NHL’s Florida Panthers use the arena as their home. He played against them on many occasions. Being backstage was a whole new ball game. Technicians were everywhere, fixing this, fixing that. They were tuning the many guitars, adjusting lights, kind of an organized madhouse. Taking it all in, David hadn’t noticed that one member of the duo was standing to his right.

  “Mr. Watson, I’m a big horse race fan. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said offering his hand.

  “Thank you. I would venture to say I’m a bigger fan of yours. You guys are awesome.”

  The musician held an iPad. Besides being a fan of the track he also followed the hockey world and knew of David’s achievements in the game. He had been in the dressing room reading the news keeping abreast of current affairs, when he was informed of David being backstage. It was too much of a coincidence not to show his guest the article he had just read.