Page 39 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

“We sure do.”

“Maybe we can salvage the second half.”

“I sure hope so.”

Chapter Eight

They left Camp David aboard Marine One at eleven. The plan was for the helicopter to land on the South Lawn long enough for Sam to disembark before lifting off again to return Nick to Camp David.

Earlier, she’d explained to the kids that she had to go into work for a day or two, but would return to pick up the vacation already in progress. With Tracy, Angela and their families due to arrive at the camp that day, the kids were looking forward to some cousin time and had plenty to keep them occupied.

If Sam was bitter to be missing the time with her family, she kept that to herself. The story of her life going forward would be the push-pull between work—including her “job” as first lady—and the desire to spend more time with her children and family. It was the conundrum of working mothers everywhere, and she was no different. Well, except she was managing the push-pull on a much larger stage than most mothers—and with much more help.

Nick held her hand during the flight and gave it a squeeze as the White House complex came into view.

“This is my stop.”

He kissed her forehead. “Be careful with my wife. She’s my whole world.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going back to fight a PR battle more than anything.”

“If there’s a way to injure yourself doing that, you’ll find it.”

Sam snorted out a laugh. “True, but I’ll do my best to avoid the paper cuts.”

“Call me later?”

“You bet.”

He kissed the back of her hand and then released it as Taco brought Marine One to a soft, easy landing. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. Try to relax and have some fun with the kids in between North Korean missile launches.”

“I’ll try. But it won’t be any fun at all until you get back.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The door to the air stairs opened, and Sam leaned in to kiss him before she stood. “Thanks for the lift, Mr. President.”

“Anything for you, babe. Be safe out there.”

“Always.” She gave him a jaunty wave and headed down the air stairs as her lead Secret Service agents, Vernon and Jimmy, deplaned from the back.

As soon as they were clear of the landing area, Marine One lifted off again.

Sam turned and gave a wave, hoping Nick could see her, before heading inside to grab what she needed for work. Since they hadn’t been expected back, there were no reporters outside screaming questions at her. But there would be at HQ. She nodded to the usher who greeted her at the door. “Morning, Harold.”

“Morning, ma’am. Welcome back.”

To her agents, she said, “I’ll be down in two minutes.”

“We’re ready when you are, ma’am,” Vernon said.

Sam rushed up the red-carpeted stairs to the residence to retrieve her weapon, cuffs, badge wallet, notebook and keys from the locked drawer in her bedside table and was on her way back down in under a minute. Though she felt terrible about leaving the family vacation, something akin to euphoria came over her when she was heading to do the job she loved so much—even when the shit was hitting the fan.

She had no idea what to expect when she got to HQ, which was a rare feeling. Usually, she knew exactly who and what she was when it came to the job. She knew who her friends were and kept them close while monitoring her enemies, of which there was one less with Ramsey fired—for now, anyway. If they let him come back to work after he’d ransacked her office and threatened her more than once—with witnesses—she might lose faith in the system designed to weed out those who didn’t belong among their ranks.

Human nature being what it was, there were going to be bad apples in any organization, but the disappointment when those things happened was profound nonetheless. How could Stahl live with knowing that murders and kidnappings in their city had gone uninvestigated for years? And yes, that was a rhetorical question considering the many other ways Stahl had turned out to be morally deficient. But how could you be paid to do a job and then just not do it? In their line of work, not doing the job allowed kidnappers and murderers to run free to terrorize innocent people.