“You haven’t had a full day off since we started this new journey. Take as much time as it takes to settle your family.”
“Call if you need me. I can be here in ten minutes.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry about this, Nick,” she said softly. “You deserve so much better from the people around you.”
“This too shall pass.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of the way you power through the nonsense and never take your eye off the ball of doing what’s right for the American people. It’s an honor and a privilege to be on this journey with you.”
“Thank you, friend. Having you and other close friends in my corner makes all the difference.”
Dr. Harry Flynn appeared in the open doorway to the Oval Office. “Am I interrupting?”
“I was just leaving,” Christina said with a smile for Nick. “He’s all yours.”
Harry came in and closed the door behind him.
“Are you making a house call, Dr. Flynn?” Nick asked when he saw that Harry had brought his medical bag.
“I am indeed.”
“What brought this on?”
“Some of your advisors thought you might be in need of a stress check.”
“My advisors did, huh?”
Harry set the bag on a sofa and withdrew a blood pressure cuff. “That’s right.”
Nick sat back against the Resolute Desk, resigned to getting this over with so his “advisors” could rest easily. “Did my wife send you?”
Harry affixed the cuff to Nick’s arm and placed a stethoscope in his ears. “I can’t reveal my sources.” He pumped up the cuff twice before he removed it. “One thirty over eighty. That’s a bit high, my friend.”
“It’s been that kind of day around here.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Nick huffed out a laugh. “Not even kinda.”
“How’re you managing the stress?”
“Since the shit only just hit the fan—again—I haven’t got a plan in place quite yet.”
“You need to get one. How about we go for a run after work?”
“You hate to run.”
“I’d take one for the team to get you out of here and into the fresh air for a few minutes.”
“That actually sounds really good but save us all from you becoming the patient and let me run with Brant and the guys on my detail.”
“I’m hurt by the insinuation that I can’t hang, but whatever you want, Mr. President. You’re the boss. Are you able to leave now?”
Nick took a fleeting look around the room that became more like a jail cell than an office on days like this. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-One
