remember?” Allison said. “He’ll be out as governor next year and he’s been angling for a cabinet post in your administration after his term is over.”
“And he thought,” Dutch said, his temper rising, “that he could gain my support by commuting the sentence of some murderer? Just because that murderer happens to be my wife’s half-brother?”
Allison looked at Max.
“Yes, sir,” Max said disgustedly too. “That’s exactly what that fool thought.”
***
Gina sat in the master dressing room within the second floor residence, on the southwest corner of the White House, and looked at the rack of designer gowns at her disposal. LaLa was in the room with her, and so were three other assistants, as she attempted to find the perfect gown for the upcoming state dinner. It was a relaxed, festive environment, until the president walked in.
The aides, who were perfectly relaxed with Gina, became stiff and formal on his arrival.
“Hello, sir,” LaLa said with a smile. “Please tell your wife that another McQueen gown won’t cut it. She needs to expand her horizons a little more. Trying something daring.”
Dutch stood over Gina, looking at the rack of clothes. “Which one is your preference?” he asked his wife.
“This one,” she said, pointing to a McQueen gown of lace and careful stitching.
“It’s gorgeous,” Dutch said, and Gina smiled.
“Two to one in favor,” Gina said to her friend. “So much for your daring,” she added.
“Whatever,” LaLa said with a smile.
Dutch, however, placed his hands in his pocket and walked toward the window. When he did that, Gina looked at LaLa.
“Okay, girls,” LaLa said as she began to leave, “let’s go and do some real work, shall we?”
LaLa and the aides left. When they did, Gina walked over to Dutch and they both stared out of the window.
“What is it?” she asked him.
“Your meeting with Marilyn Feingold,” he said.
Gina frowned. “Who?”
“Marilyn Feingold,” Dutch said, looking at her. “The wife of the governor of Texas. You know Texas? Where your brother is serving his prison time?”
Gina didn’t like his snide tone. “If you’re asking if I remember meeting with her, the answer is yes. But she never said she was the governor’s wife. I just thought she was a member of some organizations. She may have assumed I knew who she was, but I didn’t. It wasn’t until she had left did one of my aides point out that she was the wife of the governor of Texas.”
“But you discussed Marcus Rance with her?”
“No, not really.”
“What does that mean, Gina? Either you discussed him or you didn’t!”
“What are you jumping down my throat for?”
“Did you discuss him?”
Gina was suddenly concerned by Dutch’s harsh tone. What had she done now? “We talked, yes, and she did mention the death penalty, and she gave an example and we discussed it.”
“What example?”
“She was talking about pit bulls.”
Dutch frowned. “Pit bulls?”
“That’s why she was here. She and some other ladies represented the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Pit Bulls or some such name.”
“Who the hell would have scheduled a meeting like that for you?”
“Somebody on Max’s team actually,” Gina said. “I did voice my displeasure.”
“What did this Society want with you?”
Gina smiled. “They wanted me to take up the cause of pit bull cruelty, can you believe it? I mean, I don’t want to see pit bulls brutalized, and I understand the problems they face, but come on? There are crack babies out there, babies born with AIDs, hungry families, people losing their homes, and they want me to invest the little good will I do have with the American people on pit bull cruelty? Apparently
“And he thought,” Dutch said, his temper rising, “that he could gain my support by commuting the sentence of some murderer? Just because that murderer happens to be my wife’s half-brother?”
Allison looked at Max.
“Yes, sir,” Max said disgustedly too. “That’s exactly what that fool thought.”
***
Gina sat in the master dressing room within the second floor residence, on the southwest corner of the White House, and looked at the rack of designer gowns at her disposal. LaLa was in the room with her, and so were three other assistants, as she attempted to find the perfect gown for the upcoming state dinner. It was a relaxed, festive environment, until the president walked in.
The aides, who were perfectly relaxed with Gina, became stiff and formal on his arrival.
“Hello, sir,” LaLa said with a smile. “Please tell your wife that another McQueen gown won’t cut it. She needs to expand her horizons a little more. Trying something daring.”
Dutch stood over Gina, looking at the rack of clothes. “Which one is your preference?” he asked his wife.
“This one,” she said, pointing to a McQueen gown of lace and careful stitching.
“It’s gorgeous,” Dutch said, and Gina smiled.
“Two to one in favor,” Gina said to her friend. “So much for your daring,” she added.
“Whatever,” LaLa said with a smile.
Dutch, however, placed his hands in his pocket and walked toward the window. When he did that, Gina looked at LaLa.
“Okay, girls,” LaLa said as she began to leave, “let’s go and do some real work, shall we?”
LaLa and the aides left. When they did, Gina walked over to Dutch and they both stared out of the window.
“What is it?” she asked him.
“Your meeting with Marilyn Feingold,” he said.
Gina frowned. “Who?”
“Marilyn Feingold,” Dutch said, looking at her. “The wife of the governor of Texas. You know Texas? Where your brother is serving his prison time?”
Gina didn’t like his snide tone. “If you’re asking if I remember meeting with her, the answer is yes. But she never said she was the governor’s wife. I just thought she was a member of some organizations. She may have assumed I knew who she was, but I didn’t. It wasn’t until she had left did one of my aides point out that she was the wife of the governor of Texas.”
“But you discussed Marcus Rance with her?”
“No, not really.”
“What does that mean, Gina? Either you discussed him or you didn’t!”
“What are you jumping down my throat for?”
“Did you discuss him?”
Gina was suddenly concerned by Dutch’s harsh tone. What had she done now? “We talked, yes, and she did mention the death penalty, and she gave an example and we discussed it.”
“What example?”
“She was talking about pit bulls.”
Dutch frowned. “Pit bulls?”
“That’s why she was here. She and some other ladies represented the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Pit Bulls or some such name.”
“Who the hell would have scheduled a meeting like that for you?”
“Somebody on Max’s team actually,” Gina said. “I did voice my displeasure.”
“What did this Society want with you?”
Gina smiled. “They wanted me to take up the cause of pit bull cruelty, can you believe it? I mean, I don’t want to see pit bulls brutalized, and I understand the problems they face, but come on? There are crack babies out there, babies born with AIDs, hungry families, people losing their homes, and they want me to invest the little good will I do have with the American people on pit bull cruelty? Apparently
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