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“No, that would be just as annoying.”
“I’m not sure I understand you. My job is to make sure that you stay safe.”
Angela rested her arm on the back of the couch. “I thought we were becoming friends. I mean, Jumping June Bugs, you were the first person to know I was running for re-election.”
“And when do you expect to make that announcement public?”
“I don’t know yet. I’d like to do it when I send my bill to the floor.”
“Do you think it’s going to pass?”
Angela got off the couch and walked to the window again. The rain was coming down harder. She traced the trail of one of the drops and then faced Doyle. “I don’t know. I wish I knew for sure that it was the right thing to do.” She faced the window again.
She wanted nothing more than to be inside Blake’s arms at that moment. It was hard to label, but she perhaps felt an even stronger connection to him than to Oliver. It wasn’t that she loved Blake more. It felt different. She had told him she loved him before he left, and she meant that, but love didn’t seem like the best word. The feelings she had for him felt foreign. For her, thoughts and feelings had always fit neatly inside the prescribed thought boxes in her brain. But this feeling didn’t fit into any box.
Doyle got off the couch and walked over to her, standing close enough for her to feel his presence. “Sometimes, we never know if we made the right choice. We have to decide on a course of action and figure it out later.”
When she turned around to face him, he had moved even closer and was now uncomfortably in her personal space. He bent his head toward her.
She took a big step back. “Um, what are you doing?”
Without missing a beat, Doyle slipped back into his cocky self. “I thought we were having a moment. I guess I misread the room.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” The second she finished that apology, she regretted it. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She quickly reflected on the walk they took. There was nothing that she did that could have given him the impression she wanted to kiss him.
She walked to the other side of her desk.
“For the record, Madam President, I thought you might want a distraction.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“You are very tense, and sex is a great way to relax.”
She stomped over to him and pointed her finger at his chest, emphasizing her anger. “Sex between us was never something that was going to happen. I can’t believe you even thought that was an option. Your audacity astounds me.”
Instead of apologizing, which would have been the correct way to handle the situation, Doyle adjusted his tie and said, “Let me know if you change your mind. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
Angela pressed her lips together. “I liked you better when you barely said anything. Go back to that version.”
He chuckled and walked back to the couch.
She should have fired him immediately but decided it might be better to keep this card to play against him.
Tristan and Giselle Baptiste walked through the door.
“Ambassador, it’s good to see you. Has Tristan been able to help you find your sister?” Angela held out a hand for Giselle. “Here, come sit with me and let me know what’s going on. If you need more help, I will offer whatever I can.”
Giselle sat next to Angela on the couch. “Actually, Tristan has been very helpful.”
Angela couldn’t help but notice the slight red tint rise to Giselle’s face. Something was absolutely going on between the two of them.
Tristan sat on the opposite couch. “Angela, we need to talk.”
Angela’s heart stopped. Tristan didn’t call her by title, instead opting for the familiar. Whatever he came to tell her wasn’t going to be good.
“It’s Blake, isn’t it? You know something about Blake.”
Tristan let out a long sigh. “Let’s start from the beginning.”
