Page 162 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

“Good call,” she said, laughing. “I appreciate you overseeing the plans for this.”

“My pleasure. We’ll have everything ready at seven, and I’ve cleared the guest list with the Secret Service. They’ll have the list at the gate.”

“Thank you for taking care of everything.”

“No problem. I’ll see you then, if not before.”

“Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

Ten minutes later, Vernon pulled the SUV into the White House complex and was stopped at the gate to show his badge and reveal his passenger before they were waved through.

“Why don’t they do that every time?” Sam asked.

“They don’t like to be predictable.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

Before Vernon could get there to help her, Sam was out of the SUV and standing on her own two feet, the cane tucked under her arm even as her hip ached like a bitch.

“Look at you go, ma’am.” Vernon smiled like a proud papa. “You won’t be needing us to drive you around for much longer.”

“No offense but thank goodness for that.”

“None taken,” he said, laughing. “Have a nice evening.”

“You guys do the same. Thank you for all you do to keep me safe.”

“It’s an honor, ma’am.”

“My name is Sam!” she said over her shoulder as she walked away with the cane still under her arm. Inside, she was greeted by Dustin, one of the younger ushers. As she eyed the staircase to the residence, she decided she wasn’t feeling that ballsy and headed for the elevator.

“Can I get that for you, ma’am?” Dustin asked.

“I’ve got it. Thank you.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

Sam arrived to silence on the second floor, which meant everyone was probably upstairs in the conservatory, their favorite gathering spot. She sat on the bed and sent a text to Nick. I’m home. Just getting changed and finding some food.

Dinner is in the oven for you. I’ll come down to get you.

How long would it be, she wondered, before an innocuous sentence from him, such as I’ll come down to get you, wouldn’t make her heart skip a beat? Hopefully forever. Since he was on his way, she stayed seated to wait for him.

He came through the door two minutes later, wearing sweats and his favorite ratty Harvard T-shirt, looking very much like her husband and not the leader of the free world. When he smiled at her, she could forget he belonged to the entire country. Right now, he was only hers.

She held out her arms to him, and he came to her, wrapping her up in his special brand of love.

“Tough day?” he asked.

“Aren’t they all?”

“Are you okay?”

“I am now.” Before she’d had him to come home to, the idea of clinging to any man would’ve been unthinkable. Now the clinging was as necessary as breathing. “What’s for dinner?”

“Tenderloin and potatoes.”

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