Page 11 of Power
My hand clenches around my cell as I feel my anger escalate. “What do you mean you’re not available?”
“I have a prior engagement.”
“With whom?” my voice tightens as does my jaw.
“That’s not your concern,” she says, her own irritation clearly conveyed through the phone.
“It is my concern. Who do you have a prior engagement with?”
“We’re not going to get anywhere if that’s all you’re going to ask. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Yes, you can come down here and suck my cock.”
Reece sucks in a deep breath. “My availability this week is Thursday night.”
“What? Thursday night? No, that doesn’t work. I need to see you tonight.”
“I told you, I have a prior engagement, so no. I’m not able to see you tonight.” My own anger is dangerously close to spilling over. I’m on the verge of calling the agency myself and demand they fire her. “Is that all? Can I get back to sleep now?”
“Tomorrow night,” I say, countering her ridiculousness of not being able to accommodate me tonight.
“Thursday night,” she replies adamantly.
“Reece, are you refusing the president of the United States?”
“No, I’m merely informing him of my availability.”
“I’m the damn president, and I don’t wait for anyone.”
“I’m sure Mary would be available for you tonight,” she suggests.
“I don’t want Mary.”
“Thursday night at nine?” Fuck, I hate how she won’t bend to my needs. “Mr. President?”
I could force her to come here tonight, I could have her fired, I could find out whoever her client is and send the Secret Service to have a chat with him. The possibilities are endless of what I could do. “I’ll send Mark at eight on Thursday night.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dress like a slut,” I say, hanging up without hearing her response. I leave my phone on my desk and stare at it, quite pleased with myself.
“Mr. President?” Liam announces himself, snapping me out of my fantasy of Reece and what she’s going to wear on Thursday night. I look up to him. “There’s an additional five hundred firefighters making their way over to California.”
“Good.” I nod. Jamie opens the door and brings another cup of coffee for me.
“The president hasn’t even had this cup yet,” Liam says to Jamie.
“Yes, sir, I know. It’s what he does. I bring the president a second cup about half an hour after the first, because he’s too busy and generally forgets about the coffee.”
Liam looks to me, and I half shrug. “It’s true,” I say. I turn to Jamie. “What have I got in the book for Thursday night?”
“State dinner for the New Zealand Prime Minister, sir,” Jamie says without even checking.
Shit, I really want to see Reece, but I can’t not attend the state dinner. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else, Mr. President?” Jamie asks.
“No, thank you.”
