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“Does the president even have a cell phone?” Lincoln asked.
“I’m not calling Angela.” Blake dialed a number and waited for an answer.
“Penny Lewis speaking,” the voice on the other end of the call said.
“Penny, it’s Blake. Has she seen them?”
The extended pause was the only answer he needed.
“Is she okay?” Blake asked.
“Give me a minute,” Penny whispered. Blake heard a muffled conversation on the other end. “I just stepped out of the room. I’m not sure I should say anything, Mr. Sullivan, but I’ve never seen her this upset.”
“Damn it.” He held the phone away from his mouth and calmed his anger enough to refrain from yelling. “What’s going on? What can you tell me? Are you with her now? Can she talk?”
“It’s terrible, Mr. Sullivan. Benji got in a fight at school. She pushed him to talk about it, and he showed her the pictures.”
“Fuck, Benji has seen them?” He raked a hand through his hair. “You have to let me talk to her.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t right now. There are a lot of people in her office talking, and she’s yelling at all of them.”
Blake heard more muffled talking.
“I need to go, Mr. Sullivan.” Penny disconnected the call before he could say anything.
Before returning the phone to Nikki, he stared at their picture again. Standing on the balcony with her this morning had been such a wonderful moment. And now, it would ruin her career, but worse, it would destroy her.
Chapter Nine
Angela
Angela’s body trembled with anger. She struggled to maintain her calm as Benji presented the incriminating photos. The feeling of exposure and vulnerability was unbearable. It was one thing for her security detail to witness her public displays of affection, but Benji was never meant to see it. She had always planned to be the one to explain their relationship to him. Now, her carelessness had led to this, her son now sporting a black eye and facing a school suspension.
“Things like this aren’t supposed to happen,” she said for the hundredth time.
Marcus Kepler, Director of National Intelligence, paced on the far edge of the office as he talked on the phone. Penny had stepped out to take a phone call. Tristan sat on a couch, talking on the phone. The Vice President, Mariah Coolidge, sat on the other couch, whispering with her husband.
No one was listening to Angela. She was alone, anxious, and afraid.
She picked up the tablet from the desk and stared at the picture again. No matter how many times she wished for it to happen, the picture of her and Blake on her balcony would not change. It wasn’t even a horrible picture. People would describe the picture as sweet and tender if she had been anyone else. Blake held her close and rested his chin on her head. She was in a nightgown, and he was shirtless. That was the worst part.
But she wasn’t just anyone else, and Blake wasn’t an ordinary man.
Penny returned to the office, passing Marcus. She walked over to her, bent her head close, and whispered, “Mr. Sullivan just called.”
Angela’s eyes opened wider. “Give me your phone.” She held out her hand.
Penny stepped back. “We ended the call, Madam President.”
“Why didn’t you let me talk to him,” Angela snapped.
Penny’s face dropped. “I’m sorry, but there was so much commotion in your office that I didn’t think you’d want to be interrupted.” She pulled out her phone. “I have the number. I can call him back.”
Penny didn’t deserve her anger. Angela’s stomach tightened even more. She’d already excused herself once and barely reached the bathroom before getting sick.
“I’m sorry, Penny,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. This isn’t your fault.”
Penny hesitated a heartbeat. “Ma’am, if I could be so bold, and I’m not stepping out of line, this isn’t your fault either.”
