Page 136 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 132

Number One Observatory Circle

B urton Pearce is sitting in Ransom Faulkner’s elegant living room in the vice presidential residence when the verdict is announced on TV.

His first thoughts are for Maddy, but they’re immediately followed by thoughts for himself.

He does his best to contain them all.

He clicks the TV off and walks over to where the VP is standing.

A tailor is kneeling at Faulkner’s feet, pinning the cuffs on the pants of an expensive suit.

Pearce is not worried about Louie’s discretion.

He’s been with the VP for years.

“Well, I guess we can save the money on the suit,” says Faulkner.

He’s still gaunt, but his face has regained some of its color, and he’s standing up straight.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” says Pearce.

“Tess Hardy will appeal. The plan will go forward. We’ll just delay the Grand Bargain announcement for a time. Let the news cycle on this thing blow over.”

“Blow over?” says Faulkner.

“The First Gentleman in jail for murder?”

Pearce puts a hand on the tailor’s back.

“Louie, you know what? You can head out. We’ll send the suit over later.”

As Pearce pulls the double doors closed behind the departing tailor, a knock sounds on an interior door.

A young aide pokes his head in.

He looks at Pearce. “Sorry to disturb, sir. The president is calling for you on line one.”

“Thanks, Sean.” The aide backs out and closes the door.

Pearce steps to a side table and grabs the handset from a phone console.

He takes a breath, then presses the blinking button.

“Madam President, I’m sorry about the verdict. But it’s not the end. Not by a long shot.”

“How’s Ransom?” The president’s voice sounds cold and flat.

“He’s fine, Madam President. Disappointed about Cole, of course. He’s right here if you want to speak with him.”

“Is it just the two of you there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Put me on speaker.”

Pearce presses another button and puts down the handset.

“Okay, ma’am. You’re on with me and the vice president.”

“Hello, Maddy,” Faulkner calls out from his chair.

“How’s Cole holding up?”

“I haven’t talked to him yet. He’s on his way to processing, if you can believe that.”

“It doesn’t seem real,” says Pearce.

“Let me know if I can do anything,” says Faulkner.

“You’re going to be doing a lot,” says the president. “I’m resigning.”