At the Pleasure of the President (The Perfect Gentlemen 5)

“An office she doesn’t keep locked because too many on her staff need access to it,” Zack pointed out.

“Even if she did, I could easily get through one of those locks,” Connor added.

Roman’s expression turned thoughtful. “Liz is horrible with computers. How would she learn to route an e-mail to make it look as if it came from Zack?”

“I don’t think she did,” Zack said. “But someone wants us to believe that.”

“She’s got some odd logins,” Freddy reported. “I’m looking into them now, but I’m not convinced one way or the other yet.”

Freddy was never convinced of anything until it slapped him in the face—unless it was crazy conspiracy theories.

Mad leaned toward Zack. “You’re right. It feels like someone wants to put a wall between you and Liz.”

“How can they get a wall in there?” Roman teased. “He’s always on top of her.”

A hint of a smile curled up Zack’s lips. “It’s the best way to make sure she stays out of trouble. Now, do we all have our list of questions and marching orders? Because I should go and do my job. I can’t leave Elizabeth alone for too long.”

Were they all so foolish? “You guys know that the ladies are somewhere in this building, gathered and plotting, right? Everly took Sara to one of the color rooms.”

Roman froze. “I should have known Gus wasn’t really working late.”

Dax stood up with a sigh. “Oh, my sister is working. But if she’s taken over a whole room, I bet she catered the thing.”

Connor glanced at his phone. “According to my wife, they’ve set up a whole buffet and found more than a six-pack.” When the others turned to stare at him, he shrugged. “What? I can’t help it that I’m more modern than the rest of you. Lara and I don’t do the sneaking around thing. If I sneak around, she does the same, and she’s so much trouble. This is precisely why I said we should invite the ladies. Their plotting meetings always have a buffet and a full bar.”

“Face it, gentlemen,” Gabe said. “We screwed up. Sharing a six-pack doesn’t cut it.”

“I thought the brew was excellent,” Freddy argued.

“Said the guy who lives in a cabin without indoor plumbing.” Dax gave him the side-eye.

Everyone else laughed.

“Let’s go join our women.” Zack held a hand out, shaking Freddy’s. “Thank you.” He turned to Mad. “And thank you. I’ll have Sara bring you down a plate. I’m sorry, but you have to—”

“Stay here so no one in the White House thinks they’ve seen a ghost. I know. It’s fine.”

“Hey, I’ll hang with you for a while.” Gabe sat down again. “Have my lovely wife walk back down with Sara, and make that two plates of whatever Gus ordered. And a bottle of Scotch. I know Gus has one of those.”

Mad shook his head. “Gabe, you don’t have—”

“I do. You’re my best friend.” Gabe settled in. “And if you’re stuck in a bunker alone, I’ll keep you company until Sara returns.”

Smiling, Mad offered his best friend the last beer, satisfied that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Chapter Twelve

Liz hurried to the elevator of the building she’d lived in since the week after Zack won the election. That time in her life had been such a flurry of activity, including Joy’s funeral and the start of Zack’s transition to power. At the bottom of her list had been finding a place to live, so when one of her assistants found this unit for lease, it had seemed good enough…mostly because she hadn’t had time to look anymore. Now she wished she had searched a little more diligently. The unit and building were serviceable but lacked the amenities she’d been used to in the past. Still, it was close to the White House and within her budget.

Vaguely, she wondered how much longer she would need this place. Her lease was set to renew soon…

Refusing to wonder what the future held for her and Zack now, she pushed the button to call the elevator when her cell buzzed. Smiling, she slid her finger across the screen. “Hey, Gus.”

“I just walked into your office and you aren’t there. As I happen to know Zack is in a meeting with Roman, you’re not underneath him, so how did you escape and can I join you? The interns are making me crazy, Vanessa especially. Can we fire her?”

Vanessa handled way too much for that. She could be touchy at times and they’d had their differences of opinion lately, but she was reliable and one of the most senior assistants in the press office. Vanessa had come on board when Zack had hired her toward the end of the campaign, and she’d saved Liz from drowning. She remained essential to keeping reporters off Liz. “We can’t fire everyone who annoys you. We wouldn’t have a staff left.”

“True.” Gus paused, telling Liz that Gus hadn’t called to simply chat. “So…I talked to Roman after the party broke up last night.”

After listening to her concerns about Paul Harding and the trouble he could cause for Zack, Gus had promised she would discuss the situation with her fiancé and they would decide together whether to move forward with the interview that weekend.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Roman is adamant that we move forward. Zack agrees. And I’ll be honest, I think we’re too far down the road now to take an off-ramp. I know you’re worried, but we’ve got this.”

“And if Paul starts giving interviews? You know the things he could say about Zack.”

“Of course I do. I’m engaged to a man who believes that not only is the glass half empty, but it’s going to explode at any moment,” Gus replied. “Trust me. Roman has gone over every terrible scenario Paul could contrive. None of them change the fact we still have to move forward. If Paul publicly implies that Zack was cheating on Joy, we deal with it. Or is the problem that you’re afraid this public scrutiny might derail your relationship with Zack?”

That was only one of her worries. “No. What I’m truly concerned about is that Paul might introduce the idea that Zack had his wife killed. Because think about it. Can Freddy really be the only one who’s pieced together all the footage from those rallies?”

Liz hadn’t seen Freddy’s montage of assassination practices—and she didn’t want to. She’d lived through the real thing. But Zack’s description had been enough to haunt her.

“If Paul spouts that kind of garbage to the press, we’ll handle that, too,” Gus replied. “He has no proof because it’s not true, so he’ll probably come off sounding like a crazy man, and he won’t win in the court of public opinion. And if worse comes to worst, we’ll bring Paul in for questioning and leak to the press that he has strong Russian ties. I doubt he wants that kind of exposure, especially if he’s involved with the syndicate. The truth is, we’re playing a game of chess, Liz. This is merely another move in that game. How Paul reacts may tell us whether he’s a pawn, a bishop, or a king.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t fight all three of them. She simply had to brace for the worst. “I’ll start strategizing how best to prepare the team without letting them know too much.”

“The interview isn’t for a few days. I’ve got press all over me, but I can handle it. Roman is struggling, but hey, the added stress is maki

ng for some lusty as hell sex. I’m counting it as a win.”

Gus was the eternal optimist, but then she firmly believed she could bend the world to her will. Liz was more of a realist. “I’m glad some good is coming out of this mess. I’m heading up to my apartment to grab some fresh clothes. Maybe I should stay here for a while.”

Because now that she thought about it, the likeliest scenario was Paul accusing Zack of adultery, and Liz knew the press would assume she’d been his mistress. It could cause a scandal that would hurt Zack both in the polls and in his reelection bid. If she pulled away now, they might change the perception or mitigate some of the damage.

“I don’t think Zack will allow that. Get your clothes, then come back here. We’ll have happy hour,” Gus urged. “You and me. We’ll order some pizza and put veggies on it so the guys won’t touch it. If they come in, I’ll start talking about my period. Vegetables and menses—the perfect combo to send the guys scrambling back to their man caves.”

Liz wanted to demur. She really could use some time alone to decompress, but Gus would show up on her doorstep if she didn’t return to the White House pronto. Not only that, Zack would have questions, too.

When the guys had emerged from the bunker to invade their party the evening before, she’d kept her distance because Zack had never been big on PDA, even around his friends. She’d been surprised when he’d taken her hand and tugged her onto his lap.

Was she, even subconsciously, putting off this interview because she was worried about their relationship? Did she think she might put Zack in a position to have to choose between her or the White House? They’d certainly been there before.

“I’ll be back in about an hour,” she promised Gus. “We can strategize then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” From Gus, the promise sounded a little like a threat.