President Daddy (Dark Daddies 4)

“What can I do for you?” I ask.

“I’ve been thinking more about healthcare,” he says slowly. “About how broken it is. About how much people hate what we have, but are so deathly afraid of anything else.”

I nod a little. “That about sums it all up.”

“I don’t want to do some little fix or tweak or revision. I don’t want to do some half measure. I want to do something big.”

I stare at him for a second. I think I know what he’s talking about, but I’m not completely sure.

He didn’t campaign on healthcare. Frankly, he didn’t campaign on much. Adam is one of the most centrist people ever to win the office. He holds middling ideas about almost everything.

That’s part of why he got elected. People were sick of the constant bickering and fighting, so they elected someone right in the middle of everyone. Nobody can really claim him, not entirely at least.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask him softly.

“Do you know what Medicare For All is?”

I hesitate. I knew this is where he was going, but to hear him say it…

“Socialized medicine,” I say.

He winces, shakes his head. “No, no, no. Medicare for all. Just taking one program we already use and know works and offering it to everyone.”

I nod slowly. “Okay, sure. Single-payer. I know what that is. Like what every other country has.”

“Right. I was thinking…”

I shake my head. “It won’t be popular.”

“How do you know?”

I shrug. “I just know. I mean, opinion’s been changing, but still. You’re a centrist. People aren’t going to like a big move like this from you.”

“Maybe not,” he says softly. “But we have to save people. Single-payer is cheaper and more effective than what we have now by far.”

“I know that.” I sigh, lean toward him despite myself. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m not sure of anything,” he admits. “But I’m sure it’s what the nation needs, at least.”

I nod. “Okay then. I’ll get the data on Medicare For All.” I lean back in my chair and smile at him. “Is that why you called me in here?”

“Mostly I wanted to rescue you from that bar.”

I laugh softly. “I didn’t need rescuing.”

“Maybe not, but aren’t you glad I did?”

I watch him carefully, heart beating faster. “I guess so. I was about to get some of that lobbyist money, though.”

He laughs. “They’re throwing it at just about anyone these days, aren’t they?”

“No way. I’m special. The President reads my blog.”

“Not anymore. You went on hiatus.”

“Good point. Some jerk scooped me up and offered to pay me nearly nothing for way too much work.”

He grins. “Welcome to the federal government. At least you’re making a difference.”

“There’s that, I guess, although that’s not paying my bills.”

“Maybe you really do need a lobbyist,” he says. “I know a few I can put you in touch with. They’re always bugging me about stuff.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure if you push for Medicare For All, plenty of insurance lobbyists are going to be calling you at all hours.”

He sighs and suddenly looks tired. “It won’t be easy,” he says softly.

“No, it won’t.”

He suddenly looks vulnerable, almost human. Normally, Adam has this strange, otherworldly feel about him, like he’s hovering above everything, looking down at the world. But just sitting in this conference room, aware of the fight he’ll have ahead of him…

He looks normal. Still gorgeous, but normal.

He sighs and stands. “I’d better get to work,” he says. “Bring me that data as soon as you can.”

“I will.”

He nods. “Thanks for coming, Maggie.”

“Any time.” I hesitate. “Adam.”

That makes him smile. “I like hearing my name coming from your mouth,” he says, walking to the door. He glances at me, smiles again, and leaves.

I’m left alone in the conference room, trying to parse every single piece of that conversation.4AdamI’m sitting outside of a little frozen yogurt place near the center of town owned by an old African-American couple. They have a great story, although I can’t remember exactly what it is.

Something about bootstraps, overcoming adversity, the American Dream. Charles told me everything on the way over, but I wasn’t really listening, truth be told.

I was too busy thinking about Maggie, and what I wanted to do to her last night.

Calling her to the White House like that was stupid. I know it, I can’t deny it. I should never, ever bring people in like that. I was risking too much, making myself too obvious.

Still, I wanted her so fucking badly. I wanted to fuck her right there on that table, feel those full breasts under my palms, feel her stuff nipples between my teeth, make her beg and moan.

I wanted to make her feel something she’s never felt before in her life, and I know I could.

Except I really do need her opinion. She’s young and smart, and what I want to do could blow up my career. It’ll use up every single ounce of my political capital if I can actually get anywhere close to pulling it off.