Page 15 of Smoke Screen
Her very own shield of protection.
Before leaving her office, she straightened her blouse, smoothed her skirt, and drew a breath. Typically, she was the only woman in the room, an especially intimidating situation with a former leader of the free world.
Even if he’d always been personable with her.
She strode to the conference room and knocked.
“Come in.”
The president’s voice. Maddy opened the door, sticking her head in. “Hi. Aileen said you were looking for me?”
From his spot at the head of the table, President Thompson waved her in. Since leaving office, he’d opted for a more business casual look of dress shirts with the top button undone and slacks. No ties or suits unless the situation absolutely demanded it.
Here, in the Center, despite the Secret Service detail that accompanied him everywhere, he wanted to be seen as an everyman. It was, he often said, the thing that got him elected.
“How was your walk-through?” he asked.
The men liked to tease her about her obsessive routine. She never minded. That obsessing had saved their butts on countless occasions. Whenever a museum, library, or whoever wanted to borrow an exhibit item, Maddy knew exactly where to find it.
“Informative,” Maddy said. “Percy told me a retired librarian suggested you might enjoy Vikram Seth’sA Suitable Boy.”
The president made a humming noise. Clearly, he hadn’t read it. Well, she’d happily enlighten him.
“Being a Dickens fan, you might like it. It’s set in post-independence India and is about four families connected by marriage. I read it in college and enjoyed it.”
“I’ll add it to my list.”
“It’s nearly fifteen hundred pages.”
He craned his neck. “You read the entire thing?”
“I did. It earned me an A-plus in my classic literature class.”
“I’d expect no less after fifteen hundred pages.”
Everyone laughed.
“Maddy,” Frank pointed to the open seat beside him, “have a seat. We wanted to get an update on the Kayla Krowne event last night.”
Meaning, they wanted to know if she’d spoken to Mr. Sexy, Phin Blackwell. Maddy let out a silent breath. She wasn’t in trouble. Why she would be, she’d had no idea, but when her bosses called her into an unscheduled meeting, what was a girl to think?
She set her portfolio on the table and lowered herself into the chair. “Of course. I spoke to Phin Blackwell about hiring his company.”
“And?” This from Louis, who sat at the opposite end of the table and seemed to have grown a few more frown lines in the last week. “Please tell us he agreed to help.”
“He told me he’d speak to his brothers—it’s a family-run business—and get back to me ASAP. I haven’t heard from him yet, but he said it intrigued him. I thought that was a good sign.”
Louis nudged his chin at President Thompson. “Should you put a call in to them? Maybe grease it? Dad is worried we won’t find these pieces. And I’ll reiterate, we’re willing to offer a reward.”
“We’ll find them,” President Thompson said.
She wished she had his confidence. Then again, the man was a career politician and knew how to work an audience.
“With a reward,” Louis said, “we might find them faster. I have a ton of interview requests from local media about Dad’s pieces. I could go on one of the morning shows and announce it.”
President Thompson shook his head. “The FBI says no media. I’m sorry, Louis. We can’t risk it.” He brought his gaze back to Maddy. “Do you think you’ll hear from the Blackwells today?”
“Sir, I have to believe we will. It’s not every day we present a company like theirs such an exceptional opportunity. If you’d like, I can call him.”
