Before she fell asleep, she vowed she would swallow the very large pill of pride and call him tomorrow.
14
Michael reached for the phone to call Ashley and then stopped. He was used to sharing his days with her, and the temptation to call her was overwhelming. Still, she was the one who had distanced herself from him and to hell with the consequences. Thank you very much, Ashley.
He knew to a certain extent he was being unfair. She’d never lied to him. She’d always been open about her feelings regarding politics. She stood up for her beliefs and hadn’t budged even in the face of great adversity. He didn’t know why he’d been so optimistic about her changing her mind. He’d been a fool, and that didn’t sit well with him.
There really was no point in dwelling on his miscalculation any longer. He was determined to manage the situation without her and turn a disaster into a success to whatever extent was possible. It was time to move on his decision to create the director of protocol position.
He dialed Paula Foulon’s number, and a very sleepy voice answered. “Is this Paula?”
“Yes, who’s this?” an annoyed voice asked.
“It’s Michael Taylor. I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I can call back another time.” He looked at his watch. It was close to midnight on the West Coast. What had he been thinking?
“No, wait. Let me turn on the light. You must have called about something important if you’re calling this late,” Paula said, as she sat up, turned on the light, and finger-combed her hair. “By the way, congratulations on your big win, Mr. President—but then I always believed you’d win.”
“Again, I apologize for calling so late. I was working and wasn’t paying attention to the time. I can call back tomorrow.”
“It’s already tomorrow where you are. Why are you calling?” Paula asked.
“I’ll get right to the point. I’d like to meet with you tomorrow if you’re free to fly out to Washington. There’s a position in my administration I’d like to discuss with you.”
Paula was absolutely thrilled. “Yes, I’ll catch the first plane out tomorrow morning.” She’d move heaven and earth to get to Washington, DC.
“Great. Do you think you can get here for a five o’clock meeting?”
“I’ll be there. Are you still in your old office?” Paula asked.
“Yes. I’ll be here until the inauguration. Go back to sleep; I’ll see you tomorrow, and let me apologize again for calling so late.”
“Wait, can’t you tell me more?” Paula pleaded.
“I’d rather not. I’d like to talk to you in person. Tell Connor he’s welcome to come, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Michael hung up before Paula could ask any more questions. He sat for a moment reflecting on what he just possibly set into motion. He wished like hell he hadn’t been forced to make this choice, but he might as well move forward. The sooner he offered the public a solution to Ashley’s absence, the sooner things might begin to calm down.
The next day, true to her word, Paula arrived on time for their five o’clock meeting.
Georgia, Michael’s secretary, ushered her into his office. Michael stood and extended his hand. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“No problem. I’m anxious to hear what initiated your late-night call and invitation.”
While Georgia was getting coffee for Paula and engaging her in small talk, Michael did a quick mental review of Paula’s qualifications. She was smart and savvy, had a lot of connections through both her family and her husband, had led a privileged and cultured life among the very rich, and was the ultimate hostess in California.
She was tall and slender, had glossy black hair, which she wore in a chin-length bob. He imagined she probably hadn’t been denied much in her life. Her father and her husband, Connor, absolutely adored and doted on her, and among the San Francisco elite, she was its reigning queen. She came from old money, and her
14
Michael reached for the phone to call Ashley and then stopped. He was used to sharing his days with her, and the temptation to call her was overwhelming. Still, she was the one who had distanced herself from him and to hell with the consequences. Thank you very much, Ashley.
He knew to a certain extent he was being unfair. She’d never lied to him. She’d always been open about her feelings regarding politics. She stood up for her beliefs and hadn’t budged even in the face of great adversity. He didn’t know why he’d been so optimistic about her changing her mind. He’d been a fool, and that didn’t sit well with him.
There really was no point in dwelling on his miscalculation any longer. He was determined to manage the situation without her and turn a disaster into a success to whatever extent was possible. It was time to move on his decision to create the director of protocol position.
He dialed Paula Foulon’s number, and a very sleepy voice answered. “Is this Paula?”
“Yes, who’s this?” an annoyed voice asked.
“It’s Michael Taylor. I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I can call back another time.” He looked at his watch. It was close to midnight on the West Coast. What had he been thinking?
“No, wait. Let me turn on the light. You must have called about something important if you’re calling this late,” Paula said, as she sat up, turned on the light, and finger-combed her hair. “By the way, congratulations on your big win, Mr. President—but then I always believed you’d win.”
“Again, I apologize for calling so late. I was working and wasn’t paying attention to the time. I can call back tomorrow.”
“It’s already tomorrow where you are. Why are you calling?” Paula asked.
“I’ll get right to the point. I’d like to meet with you tomorrow if you’re free to fly out to Washington. There’s a position in my administration I’d like to discuss with you.”
Paula was absolutely thrilled. “Yes, I’ll catch the first plane out tomorrow morning.” She’d move heaven and earth to get to Washington, DC.
“Great. Do you think you can get here for a five o’clock meeting?”
“I’ll be there. Are you still in your old office?” Paula asked.
“Yes. I’ll be here until the inauguration. Go back to sleep; I’ll see you tomorrow, and let me apologize again for calling so late.”
“Wait, can’t you tell me more?” Paula pleaded.
“I’d rather not. I’d like to talk to you in person. Tell Connor he’s welcome to come, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Michael hung up before Paula could ask any more questions. He sat for a moment reflecting on what he just possibly set into motion. He wished like hell he hadn’t been forced to make this choice, but he might as well move forward. The sooner he offered the public a solution to Ashley’s absence, the sooner things might begin to calm down.
The next day, true to her word, Paula arrived on time for their five o’clock meeting.
Georgia, Michael’s secretary, ushered her into his office. Michael stood and extended his hand. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“No problem. I’m anxious to hear what initiated your late-night call and invitation.”
While Georgia was getting coffee for Paula and engaging her in small talk, Michael did a quick mental review of Paula’s qualifications. She was smart and savvy, had a lot of connections through both her family and her husband, had led a privileged and cultured life among the very rich, and was the ultimate hostess in California.
She was tall and slender, had glossy black hair, which she wore in a chin-length bob. He imagined she probably hadn’t been denied much in her life. Her father and her husband, Connor, absolutely adored and doted on her, and among the San Francisco elite, she was its reigning queen. She came from old money, and her
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