“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Kennedy replied. “It’s not support he’s offering.”
What had Kennedy seen? Ratman had shown nothing but a professional interest in her, and if it weren’t for what had happened earlier, even she would’ve never guessed. “I resent that.”
Kennedy raised her hands in surrender. “If whatever you two have going on suits you, then I’ll back off.”
“Then back off.” She was desperate for the conversation to stop.
“Elizabeth, you’re lying.”
Why was Kennedy pressing? She couldn’t handle any more drama right now. “What if it does suit me?” She clenched her fists. “It’s none of your concern.”
“I don’t believe you, and it is my business if you’re in danger.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Of what?”
“Moore.”
Kennedy narrowed her eyes. “Why would I be?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me.”
Kennedy took a few steps nearer and stopped a foot away from her.
She would have normally backed away at such an intrusion into her personal space, but she couldn’t and she didn’t want to.
“And how is that?” Kennedy asked.
She couldn’t pull her gaze away from Kennedy. “Like…like…”
“The way you’re looking at me right now?”
It would be so easy to kiss her, Ryden thought. “I like you, Kennedy, but that’s it.” She looked away. “I’m not gay and—”
“And you’re the president,” Kennedy said. “And I’m your primary guard, and it would be highly unprofessional to…” She went silent and turned toward the door.
“To what?” Ryden asked.
“Nothing. I’m out of line. This whole conversation is out of line.” Kennedy gazed at her. “Just remember that should you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
Kennedy had obviously said something because she saw her lips move, but Ryden had blocked it out. “It would be unprofessional to what?” Now Ryden pressed the issue.
Kennedy walked up to her and put her arm around her waist. Their lips were an inch apart and she was dizzy with excitement and expectation.
As her breathing quickened and her heart raced, she repeated, “To what?” in a whisper. She dropped her gaze from Kennedy’s eyes to her mouth.
When Kennedy brought her head closer, Ryden forgot to breathe. “To kiss you,” Kennedy said against her lips and then pulled away.
Ryden stared at her, dazed.
“I was right.” Kennedy let go of her. “You don’t want Moore any more than you want whatever he’s gotten you involved in.” She walked to the door.
“And this is how you make a point?” Ryden yelled.
“I can’t protect you if you won’t let me, Elizabeth.”
“I can have you fired.”
“But you won’t.”
“Because you’ll tell the world I wanted to kiss you?” She was furious. “Is my life a game to you, like it is with everyone else?”
“I don’t play games. That would be your friend Moore, and I could care less about announcing anything to the world. All I care about is doing my job and you…are my job.”
“If you don’t play games, then what were you trying to prove a second ago?”
“What I already suspected.”
“That I’m attracted to you?” Ryden asked.
“That you’re afraid, lonely, and that something very wrong is going on.” Kennedy walked through the door and closed it behind her.
*
Kenneth Moore led Theodora Rothschild away from the East Room and into the Red Room so they wouldn’t be overheard. The event was winding down and nearly all the media had already departed, so there was little chance of someone photographing TQ. But she was ultra-sensitive to that possibility, and Moore also wanted to minimize his being seen with her.
“She is the perfect political decoy,” TQ said as soon as he’d shut the door. “I struck gold with this one, and it took me only four tries.”
“I saw the missing-person pictures of the others on the news. Well, two of them anyway. The blonde wasn’t reported locally.” He went to the bar and poured them two cognacs as Rothschild took a seat on the couch. “Good luck finding and identifying scattered ashes.”
“I warned them,” she replied. “I told them there was no space for mistakes or imperfections. Well…except the one who died during surgery.”
“No one could have foreseen her intolerance to anesthesia.” He handed her one of the snifters and sat beside her. “Her heart seemed fine.”
“But it wasn’t. What a disappointment.”
Kenneth lifted his cognac in a toast. “Just as well. None of them were half as convincing as the florist.”
“No telling what rock talent might be hidden under, dear friend,” TQ replied. “A florist, an uneducated orphan, is more convincing than anyone could have imagined.”
They both laughed at that, but Kenneth stopped abruptly when he remembered the loose end they had to consider. “We need to have that press conference ASAP.” He put his glass down.
“Of course.”
“I mean really soon.”
TQ’s expression grew serious as well. “Is something the matter?”
“Her bodyguard, Harper Kennedy—some private-contractor dyke the Secret Service assigned to her after the attack—she’s snooping around. She suspects internal involvement, and I don’t like the way she looks at me.”
“Why haven’t I heard of her before?”
“She hasn’t been a real threat, but our florist has taken a liking to her.”
“Who does this Kennedy work for?” she asked.
“The Elite Operatives Organization.”
“I’ve heard of them.”
“I’ve asked around. It wasn’t easy to find out much. Only the highest levels of government know about their existence. It would appear they are very capable, and their agents are adopted and trained at a very young age. They require a handsome payment, but they get the job done whatever the cost or risk to themselves.”
“I’m aware. That’s why I considered them in the past.”
“It would be wise to steer clear of Kennedy,” he said.
TQ smiled. “Since when do you get paid to think?”
“I just mean—”
“If I have to deal with Kennedy or the EOO, I will.”
“I know.” Kenneth took a sip. “Senator Schuster has had enough time to come up with his arguments against the president’s illegal-arms plan.”
“More than enough. Have the double call him tomorrow and tell him she’ll hold her press conference in three days. She’ll announce she’s putting the plan on indefinite hold because his opposition has killed its chances in Congress. He’ll hold his own press conference immediately after to explain his reasons.”
“Will do.”
“We should be able to deliver Thomas back to America shortly after,” TQ said.
“And the florist can join her unsuccessful predecessors.”
“And so will her bodyguard.”
“Kennedy? Why?” He didn’t like the idea of crossing the EOO and inviting even closer scrutiny of himself.
“Think, Kenneth.” TQ sighed. “How am I supposed to let the one person who’s spent so much time with the florist, and is suspicious of her and you, continue to guard the real president?”
“But…”
“But what?” TQ leaned forward. “Do you have a problem with that, Kenneth?”