Page 51 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

“I do know that. I can’t explain the panicky feeling I had up there, but then, of course, Nick tuned right in to it and said he’d give me a ride home if it came to that.”

“Which it did. You told me you wanted me to tell you when the press is hammering you guys, right?”

“I guess…”

“They’re going off about him flying you home on Marine One. Waste of taxpayer dollars and such.”

Sam sighed. “I was coming home to work for the taxpayers, but no one considers that.”

“They want to know why you weren’t driven home.”

“Because the chopper was quicker!”

“You know that, and I know that…”

“They’re just looking for things to pick at us about.”

“Yes, they are. That’s what they do with whoever lives in the White House. Nonstop picking.”

“This is why I never wanted him to have the job in the first place. The scrutiny of everything we do is just maddening.”

“I can’t imagine what that must be like. Here’s what I’d do if I were you… Live your lives. That helicopter is his to use as he sees fit. They can’t make him use it when it suits them and then come for him when it suits him. All you can do is ignore the noise and do your thing.”

“That’s easier said than done when you work for the people who are criticizing you.”

“You don’t work for the media.”

“No, but they’re firing up the people we do work for.”

“Those people know how hard you work for them. You know why you needed to get back to town fast, and you did what you had to do. That’s what the chopper is for—to transport you guys where you need to go. Remember that.”

“True. It’s not like he can just jump in the car and give me a ride home if he wants to.”

“People don’t understand the severe restrictions you guys live under.”

“I didn’t understand it fully until I was living it.”

“Which is why I say do your thing and ignore the noise. You’re following the security rules set forth by the Secret Service.”

“True,” Sam said, sighing. “I just wish people would try to understand that the president—and first lady—can’t just do whatever the fuck they want when they want and have to follow all these protocols to do anything.” She pulled into a parking space three blocks from Audrey’s apartment in Adams Morgan. “Who do you think we’re going to find at her place? Parents, significant other, roommates?”

“I don’t know, but I hate doing this to anyone.”

“Same.”

They zipped up tight against the cold and walked to the building. Outside the main door, they pressed the button for apartment six.

A male voice responded. “Yes?”

“Metro PD. May we speak to you for a moment?”

After a long pause, the man said, “Uh, yeah. Come on up.”

He buzzed them in.

“Boyfriend,” Sam said. “Or husband.” Ugh.

They went up the stairs to the second floor, where a young, dark-haired man waited for them in a doorway. His eyes widened when he recognized Sam.

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