President Daddy (Dark Daddies 4)

We get some work done, but not a whole lot. I consider working late, but I decide to head home. Nobody’s around and I heard the President isn’t even in the White House at all. Apparently he’s traveling, though nobody knows where.

As I’m heading outside toward the metro, a woman detaches herself from a nearby building and walks close to me. I frown at her, trying to place her face.

“Maggie?” she asks me.

I clench my jaw. “I’m not interested,” I say.

Linda Torres gives me a wry little smile. “You don’t even know what I’m here to say.”

“I know you want to keep asking me questions and I’m not interested.”

She sighs. She looks tired, stressed. Her hair’s pulled back in a tight bun and there are bags under her eyes.

But she doesn’t look like the evil reporter I half expected her to be.

“Please, sit down with me,” she says. “Just one cup of coffee. We can talk off the record.”

I hesitate. “I’m not interested.”

“Please. I might be able to tell you a little about what’s going on.”

I hesitate, slowing my walk.

It’s tempting. I haven’t heard from Adam in nearly a week. I’m desperate for news, for some sign of what’s happening around me.

I’m more than a little freaked, if I’m honest. I don’t know if my job’s safe, I don’t know if Adam’s safe. I don’t know if he’s giving up on healthcare and moving on from me completely.

Everything we’ve said. Everything we’ve done. And total silence from him.

I sigh. “One coffee. Off the record.”

She nods. “Okay, let’s go.”

I follow her to this little hipster place around the corner. She orders a decaf and I ask for an Americano. We get our drinks and sit in a corner.

Linda glances around, wincing a little bit. “I remember when this place was a bookstore.”

I frown. “I’m sure it’s changed a lot here.”

“It sure has,” she says softly before looking back at me. “How are you, Maggie?”

I shrug. “Fine. Look, I’m only here to hear what you have to say about these firings, okay? I’m not interested in small talk.”

“Okay,” she says. “I get that. But I’m serious, I really want to know if you’re okay?”

I narrow my eyes. She actually seems sincere. “I’m fine,” I say. “Honestly. Why are you concerned?”

She shrugs and looks away. “I know about you and the President.”

I stare at her. Anger rises through me, and I stand up.

“Please,” she says quickly, reaching out. “Don’t leave. Just hear me out.”

I stare at her. “There is nothing going on,” I say.

“Okay,” she answers. “Still hear me out.”

I hesitate before slowly sitting down.

“I have a source close to the President.” She sighs. “Well, I had a source. He was in his security detail, but he was transferred, so I guess that’s over.”

My mind starts whirling. He was right, he was totally right.

I stare at her, keeping silent. I don’t want to speak and risk getting myself in trouble. Or, worse, getting Adam in trouble.

She bites her lip. “He was worried about you. I’m worried about you. I mean, a relationship with the President is a big deal. Women have been hurts by Presidents in the past, seriously hurt, and I don’t want to see it happen to you.”

I laugh sharply. “Don’t pretend this is about me, Linda.”

She looks taken aback but sighs, like I genuinely hurt her. “I see why you’d think that. You don’t know me. But I’m a survivor too, you know. I’ve spent most of my journalistic career researching and taking down predatory men, and I’m afraid you’re about to be just one more victim I can’t save.”

I stare at her, not sure what to say. I suddenly start to understand where she’s coming from, at least a little bit.

She’s a crusader. She believes in what she’s doing.

Saving women is a worthy cause. Taking care of victims, punishing their attackers, all of that is worthwhile. A person like Linda is necessary if big, powerful men are going to be held accountable.

But that isn’t what’s happening here. And I can’t explain that without admitting that I’m seeing the President.

And I definitely can’t do that. At the end of the day, she’s a reporter.

“I want to help you,” she says.

“I don’t need help,” I quickly cut in.

“Are you sure? My source, he said the President was seeing you often, and—”

“I don’t need help,” I repeat seriously. “Look, I understand what you’re trying to do. I really do, and I get that it’s important. But that isn’t me.”

“They never think it’s them,” she says softly. “Not at first, anyway.”

“Linda.” I stare at her. “It’s not me.”

She smiles sadly. “Has he spoken to you lately?”

I glare at her, but I don’t respond.

“I didn’t think so. This shakeup is happening because of me.”

“How?” I ask sharply.

“I told him that I’m writing a story about the two of you. I told him that I’m going to release it soon. I guess this is his response.”