Read Online Flowerbed of State by Dorothy St. James - Free Book Online
Authors: Dorothy St. James
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the special treatment I’d given her, and only her, saving her pride and my career.
And that, I suspected, was exactly what I needed to do now. I lightly touched the senator’s arm and leaned in toward her. Lowering my voice ever so slightly, I said, “Considering your experience with plants, I’m sure Mrs. Bradley will welcome any input you might be able to offer.”
Her frigid glare warmed several degrees. “Splendid.”
“If you contact her office, I’m sure—” I started to say.
“I’ll let you go and get cleaned up for the meeting,” she interrupted.
“Thank you,” I said with a big smile fueled almost completely by relief.
While I was busy congratulating myself for being ever so clever, the senator pushed her card into my hand. “Call my assistant and let her know when you have arranged for me to sit in on the meeting. She’ll get the message to me.”
“What? Wait, I hadn’t . . .”
Senator Pendergast patted my arm like she would a puppy’s head and marched victoriously back to the bankers.
“But I hadn’t . . .” I said to the suddenly empty hallway.
That didn’t go as smoothly as it could have. And hell, it was one more task I needed to accomplish before the meeting could even get started. I dropped the senator’s card into my rain slicker’s pocket and trotted through the West Wing lobby, out the front entrance, and across the North Lawn toward my office.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell phone started to belt out the words to “Stronger” by Kanye West. Nerves a bit on edge? Perhaps just a little.
The phone repeatedly sang the hip-hop version of Nietzsche’s famous quote “what doesn’t kill me” while I dug around in my soggy backpack. Naturally it had slipped to the bottom again and had lodged itself underneath the mystery novel I’d been reading. When I pulled the rose-colored phone free from my bag’s clutches and flipped it open, I noticed not only the incoming number but also the time . . . or rather the lack of it. The meeting should have started five minutes ago!
“Lorenzo, thank goodness you called,” I shouted into the phone. “Are you still in the office?”
“Yes, I am. Casey—”
“Great.” I bypassed the passageway leading down to my office and headed straight for the East Wing. “As you can see, I’m running more than a little late. Could you please grab my presentation boards and bring them up to the First Lady’s office?”
“Forget the First Lady. You need to get down here.” He took a ragged breath. “Right now, Casey.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Just get down here,” he said and hung up.
Chapter Five
L ORENZO Parisi, more than the rest of us, seemed to truly worry about appearances. I couldn’t imagine any circumstance where he’d tell me to “forget the First Lady.”
Something extraordinary must have happened. Something extraordinarily bad .
I dashed down the low, arching stone passageway underneath the North Portico that led to the offices and workshops. Something must have happened to my presentation boards. Why else would Lorenzo refuse to bring them to the First Lady’s office?
A flood of water might have poured in from the ceiling, leaving the grounds offices in ruin. There might even be bits of carefully constructed presentation board scattered all over the desks and crushed underfoot on the floor with no regard to how much time I’d put into creating them.
My heart slammed against my ribs, and my bruised head pounded as I rounded the corner and slid to a stop at the doorway to the grounds offices.
Two men wearing similar off-the-rack suits, one tweed and the other gray, and red “Visitor” security badges around their necks stood just inside the door. They had the worn-down look of paperback novel police detectives.
“Lorenzo?” I called, craning to see around the two lugs so deep in conversation with each other they didn’t seem to notice me bobbing up and down in a desperate effort to
And that, I suspected, was exactly what I needed to do now. I lightly touched the senator’s arm and leaned in toward her. Lowering my voice ever so slightly, I said, “Considering your experience with plants, I’m sure Mrs. Bradley will welcome any input you might be able to offer.”
Her frigid glare warmed several degrees. “Splendid.”
“If you contact her office, I’m sure—” I started to say.
“I’ll let you go and get cleaned up for the meeting,” she interrupted.
“Thank you,” I said with a big smile fueled almost completely by relief.
While I was busy congratulating myself for being ever so clever, the senator pushed her card into my hand. “Call my assistant and let her know when you have arranged for me to sit in on the meeting. She’ll get the message to me.”
“What? Wait, I hadn’t . . .”
Senator Pendergast patted my arm like she would a puppy’s head and marched victoriously back to the bankers.
“But I hadn’t . . .” I said to the suddenly empty hallway.
That didn’t go as smoothly as it could have. And hell, it was one more task I needed to accomplish before the meeting could even get started. I dropped the senator’s card into my rain slicker’s pocket and trotted through the West Wing lobby, out the front entrance, and across the North Lawn toward my office.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell phone started to belt out the words to “Stronger” by Kanye West. Nerves a bit on edge? Perhaps just a little.
The phone repeatedly sang the hip-hop version of Nietzsche’s famous quote “what doesn’t kill me” while I dug around in my soggy backpack. Naturally it had slipped to the bottom again and had lodged itself underneath the mystery novel I’d been reading. When I pulled the rose-colored phone free from my bag’s clutches and flipped it open, I noticed not only the incoming number but also the time . . . or rather the lack of it. The meeting should have started five minutes ago!
“Lorenzo, thank goodness you called,” I shouted into the phone. “Are you still in the office?”
“Yes, I am. Casey—”
“Great.” I bypassed the passageway leading down to my office and headed straight for the East Wing. “As you can see, I’m running more than a little late. Could you please grab my presentation boards and bring them up to the First Lady’s office?”
“Forget the First Lady. You need to get down here.” He took a ragged breath. “Right now, Casey.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Just get down here,” he said and hung up.
Chapter Five
L ORENZO Parisi, more than the rest of us, seemed to truly worry about appearances. I couldn’t imagine any circumstance where he’d tell me to “forget the First Lady.”
Something extraordinary must have happened. Something extraordinarily bad .
I dashed down the low, arching stone passageway underneath the North Portico that led to the offices and workshops. Something must have happened to my presentation boards. Why else would Lorenzo refuse to bring them to the First Lady’s office?
A flood of water might have poured in from the ceiling, leaving the grounds offices in ruin. There might even be bits of carefully constructed presentation board scattered all over the desks and crushed underfoot on the floor with no regard to how much time I’d put into creating them.
My heart slammed against my ribs, and my bruised head pounded as I rounded the corner and slid to a stop at the doorway to the grounds offices.
Two men wearing similar off-the-rack suits, one tweed and the other gray, and red “Visitor” security badges around their necks stood just inside the door. They had the worn-down look of paperback novel police detectives.
“Lorenzo?” I called, craning to see around the two lugs so deep in conversation with each other they didn’t seem to notice me bobbing up and down in a desperate effort to
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