What I need is to…breathe.
I power the phone off and set it on the dresser. Then I return to the bedroom—locking the door behind me—to slip under the covers with Elliot and pray for sleep.
* * * *
The next morning, it’s tempting to shut off my alarms and call Elliot in late, but that’s not a thing I can do.
Because it’s not like he’s the CEO of a company, or has a substitute teacher he can call in.
Unless he’s really sick—as incall in the White House physiciankind of sick—or in so much pain he cannot move, he needs to go to work.
It’s not just because of his job, either. It’s also because of the appearance of fitness for the office. He’s got to work doubly hard to make sure people don’t start casting doubts on his ability to handle the rigors of the job.
After using the bathroom, I detour through my room to grab my personal cell, power it on, and carry it downstairs with me.
No stalker danish and coffee sitting on the counter to greet me, and I feel more than a twinge of disappointment over that.
I spend a few minutes pondering if I should text him good morning or not and finally decide on not.
This is already confusing enough as it is. I need to get our talk over with already.
But we’re just hitting the West Wing entrance—no sign of Leo, and yes, I’m looking—when an officer hustles up to Elliot. “You’re needed in the SitRoom, sir.”
Except for his travel mug of coffee, Elliot hands all his stuff to me, including cell phones. “Take those to the office and meet me down there.”
“Yes, Mister Vice President.”
I don’t know what’s going on, but my stomach’s already tied in a knot.
Pleaselet it be a rescue.
I don’t think I can sit through another ofthosevideos.
If necessary, I’ll take a seat and close my eyes so I don’t freaking faint. I can’t embarrass him and have people talking badly about me.
“Oh, look, there’s thefainter.”
I hustle over to the office, drop everything there, check in with Suzanne, and then head downstairs. On my walk, I stick my hand in my pocket and finger my day collar.
Yeah, Leo’s day collar.
I can’t bring myself to put it on. We need to have our conversation first.
But leaving it behind doesn’t feel right, either.
I’ve carried it in my pocket ever since he left it on my dresser.
Baby steps, right?
Leo’s already there when I walk into the briefing room area. He’s standing behind Kev.
But he doesn’t even look at me when I walk in. He and everyone else are watching the largest monitor, where what looks like IR camera feeds are playing in a four-way split-screen.
No one’s speaking, except a man on the monitor, who I quickly realize is in a helicopter. A pilot. Other monitors are quickly brought online, showing things like the actual position of the team overlaid on a map, along with other statistics.
I take my place behind Elliot and watch with everyone else as the military team flies toward their targeted drop zone. When I glance at Leo, his gaze is always on the monitors, and it feels like he’s…
Aloof?
