Madam President by Nicolle Wallace Read Free Book Online Page A

Dale completely on matters involving White House press strategy. It had further strengthened Dale’s hand that Craig, her closest friend in Washington, had ascended to the White House chief of staff position. The post was the single most powerful appointment in all of Washington, aside from the president herself.
    Dale plugged her BlackBerry, iPhone, and iPad into chargers next to her nightstand while she contemplated half an Ambien.
    “Are you still working?” Warren asked.
    “I probably should be.”
    Warren put the two wineglasses on the nightstand and sat down on the bed. “What’s wrong?”
    “What if the president hates Lucy and Richard?”
    “Who cares if she hates them? She’s a big girl, and she understands why you picked them. Relax. It’s going to be great.”
    “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
    “Maybe. But it happens to be the truth.”
    He smiled his irresistible smile, and Dale relaxed. When he leaned over to kiss her, she let him. His enthusiasm for her was limitless. While the world saw him as a perfectly well-adjusted and emotionally and physically unscathed veteran of the war in Iraq, Dale understood that there was no such thing. According to Warren, they all came back altered. His escape was sex, and for the time being, Dale was content to be his therapy. The bedroom was the one place where she felt shecould give him everything he needed from her. She stole a sideways glance at her iPhone to check the time and then quickly forgot about alarm clocks, line-by-lines, on-the-record versus off-the-record interviews, briefing books, staff meetings, speech excerpts, protests, and reporters’ complaints.

CHAPTER SIX
    Charlotte
    T his is the shot you should have let them get for your CBS taping,” Peter said.
    Charlotte looked up from the speech text that she was marking with a thick black Sharpie. Her three vizslas were strewn across the bed with them. Cammie, the oldest, was lying between Charlotte’s legs, with her head on her thigh and one eye open to keep watch over her mistress. The other two were in various states of undignified repose on the bed. Peter was watching a baseball game and editing a contract for one of his clients. He still worked as a sports agent and represented some of the biggest athletes in professional basketball and football. Charlotte thought he was genius in terms of always keeping his business smaller than the demand for his services. Athletes typically came to him and asked him to consider adding them to his small and exclusive list of clients, instead of the other way around.
    “How’s the speech?”
    “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
    “That’s a relief. Aren’t you delivering it first thing in the morning?”
    “Eleven.” Charlotte handed Cammie a piece of her grilled cheese sandwich.
    “Do you feel good about it?”
    “I feel fine about it. Maureen has been incredible, and this was one of her conditions for getting the tax cuts and the defense-spending bills passed with Democratic votes. It’s a tiny thing to do for her after all the stability she’s brought to this place.”
    Peter nodded. “You don’t have to convince me, honey, but it sounds like you’re still convincing yourself.”
    “Maybe,” Charlotte murmured without looking up.
    “Look, if you’re having doubts, you should call Warren. He always puts you at ease about these things.”
    “I spoke to him before I left the Oval Office.”
    “Is he worried?”
    “Of course not. Says that women will appreciate someone other than a white man talking about the issue, regardless of their position.”
    “That sounds like good advice.”
    “I guess.”
    “Call him again if you’re still anxious.”
    “He has better things to do than talk me off the ledge.”
    “I doubt that.”
    Charlotte reached for the phone and asked the White House operator to try Warren’s cell. When he didn’t pick up, she hung up and refused the operator’s offer to keep trying.
    “I’m