Deadly Deals. Fern Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ It’s safe to say your fame has preceded you. Actually, Lizzie, you’re a legend in your own time, and I, for one, am honored to be called your friend. How does your new husband feel about your taking on the job?”

      Lizzie leaned forward. “You know what, Marti? My husband is that rare breed of man who only wants to see me happy. If all it takes is his approval, he’s all for it. We take turns traveling on the weekends. You need to give him a huge slice of credit for helping get you to where you’re sitting right now.” Lizzie looked around and lowered her voice. “Is this place bugged? Are you recording me?”

      “Lizzie!”

      Martine’s outrage was so total, Lizzie relaxed. “What I was going to say was, my husband numbers among his friends some of the most powerful, some of the most respected, some of the richest people in the world, and those he doesn’t know personally, he has access to via those same friends in his Rolodex. You should see his Rolodex, Marti. I think it’s safe to say your own cannot compare.”

      “What are you trying to tell me, Lizzie?” There was an edge to Martine’s voice that did not go unnoticed by Lizzie.

      “Nothing, Marti. I was simply commenting on your question about my husband.”

      “Point taken.”

      There was a knock at the door, and a white-coated waiter indicated that lunch was ready in the little breakfast nook, as requested by the president.

      “Our lunch is ready. It’s one of the perks here. I hope you enjoy it,” Martine said as she rose and led Lizzie down the hall. When they reached their destination, she nodded to the waiter to show that he could leave. “I know you don’t like to eat heavily at lunch, and most days I don’t have time for lunch. We’re having sesame-crusted salmon, grilled asparagus, and a garden salad.”

      It looked delicious, but Lizzie wasn’t hungry. She lifted the glass of iced tea set by her plate and clinked it against Martine’s. “Here’s to a thankful Thanksgiving and a Merry Christmas, Madam President.”

      “And the same to you, Lizzie.”

      The bite was still in Martine’s voice, Lizzie noticed. Well, she hadn’t invited herself here. She was the invitee. She smiled as she mashed the salmon on her plate. Martine was cutting her asparagus into tiny pieces. Lizzie couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to eat it or if she was just playing with her food, too.

      “Does my office have a window, Marti?”

      Martine offered up a genuine smile this time. “It was one of your requirements, so yes, your office has a window. You did say you would be willing to negotiate the second half of the year. Is that still on the table?”

      Lizzie mashed the salmon some more. “Yes, but no promises. So, tell me now, who do I have to watch out for?”

      “Everyone would be my guess. You’ve been Googled so much since we made the announcement, I’m surprised the site didn’t shut down. You’re the next thing to Public Enemy Number One at Sixteen Hundred Pennsylvania Avenue. My chief of staff understands that you are to have direct access to me twenty-four-seven. Of course, he went ballistic, but we’re on the same page now. Everyone is replaceable. He understands that, too.”

      “Guess you aren’t going to eat that asparagus. You must have a hundred little pieces on your plate.”

      “You always were perceptive, Lizzie. I’m listening when you’re ready to talk.”

      “My friends are very unhappy, Marti. I thought you would have gotten the message when your Secret Service agents were thrown into a Dumpster and their weapons and badges were sent back to you.”

      Martine started to mash her salmon the way Lizzie had. “We’re going to have to put all this food in the disposal so the kitchen doesn’t get their knickers in a knot. I did get the message. I wasn’t amused. We had to do some fancy dancing to explain all that.”

      “I bet you did. My friends weren’t amused either. You have six months to keep your promise.”

      “I can’t believe you’re giving the president of this country an ultimatum! And if for some reason I can’t deliver on the promise in the allotted time, then what?” Martine asked in the same frosty tone.

      Lizzie smiled. “Marti, I might be many things, but I’m not clairvoyant.”

      “What? Are you seriously warning me that the vigilantes can penetrate the White House? Is that what you’re telling me? Are you telling me they’re smart enough to outwit the best of the best? It’s simply not possible. What are they going to do, hold a gun to my head and make me sign a pardon and then we’re all going to disappear in a puff of smoke?”

      Lizzie was pleased at the look of pure horror on the president’s face. She continued to smile. “I said no such thing. That’s your interpretation. Although the ladies did take on your Secret Service and come out on top. And if I remember correctly, that little neighborhood White House luncheon you sponsored didn’t go over so well either. Your guests were more impressed with their ride home, compliments of the vigilantes, than they were with your luncheon, the photo op, and their souvenirs.”

      Martine Connor got up and carried the two luncheon plates to the sink in the main part of the kitchen. She scraped the plates and turned on the garbage disposal. Lizzie listened to the loud clunking noise followed by a shrieking, grinding sound.

      “The plumbing leaves a lot to be desired,” Martine said.

      “You could call a plumber,” Lizzie volunteered.

      “It doesn’t work that way here. In the real world, yes. I can’t even describe to you what it’s like living here. I can’t step out and go to the drugstore to get shampoo. If I want to do that, I have to notify the Service a month in advance. Then they have to empty out the store so I can shop. I can’t go to a bookstore. I can’t drive a car. I can’t use my credit cards or carry money. If they ever find out I have that phone, they’ll probably pack me off to Outer Mongolia.

      “You know what I miss, Lizzie? I miss going out to the mailbox for my mail. I miss all those catalogs I used to get by the pound. I always looked forward to Sunday afternoon, when I’d browse through them and order something. You know what else? I made potato pancakes one day. They came up here on the run and said I was stinking up the White House and not to do it again. They fucking told me I can’t make potato pancakes! It was the onion I put in them. I’m not excusing my language either.”

      For all of a minute, Lizzie almost felt sorry for her old friend. Almost. Then she burst out laughing. “Remember that old saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.’ You wished for this, we made it happen for you at the eleventh hour, and now you have to live with it. And you have to honor your debt. That’s the bottom line.”

      “God, Lizzie, how cold you sound. That’s the real reason you agreed to sign on, isn’t it? You’re here to protect your friends, and if it means taking me down, you’ll help them do it, right?”

      Lizzie just smiled.

      “Goddamnit, Lizzie, say something.”

      “Where I come from, Marti, and where you’ve been, a person is only as good as her word. I really should be going. I’ve taken up enough of your time today.”

      Martine СКАЧАТЬ