Undercover by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online

with foreign heads of state.
    Marshall had been standing in the same spot for two hours, looking like a statue in a suit with “spaghetti” in his ear, which was slang for the earpiece and wire they wore to stay in constant communication by radio. Marshall’s earpiece was turned on and he was fiercely bored as he tried not to fall asleep on his feet. Several pretty women whizzed past him, carrying papers, files, and iPads. He was staring at his shoes for an instant when he saw two small feet appear in front of his, in sparkly pink shoes with bows on them. And the moment he spotted them, he looked up to see a little girl with her blond hair in pigtails, missing her front teeth. She was looking up at him very seriously, and she was wearing a gray skirt and a pink sweater. She looked incredibly cute, and was giving Marshall a thorough once-over. She was even prettier than she was in pictures, and she had huge blue eyes that met his squarely. He was startled by the intense, direct look, and surprised to see the president’s six-year-old daughter alone, unescorted.
    “I’ve never seen you before,” she said matter-of-factly. “Did you just get here?”
    “Yes, I started here today,” he said, as he would have to an adult asking the same question. He wasn’t sure how to talk to her, and hadn’t expected her to interrogate him.
    “Do you like it?” she asked politely, and he nodded, trying not to grin in amusement. She was like a funny little elf. He hadn’t expected to meet her or have a conversation with her.
    “Yes, very much,” he answered. “Everyone’s been very nice,” he said, wondering if she always wandered around the White House alone, and why she wasn’t in school.
    “My name’s Amelia. He’s my dad.” She pointed to the Oval Office, and Marshall nodded. “Have you met my daddy yet?”
    “Well, actually, not yet. He’s been busy all morning.”
    She nodded as though that was expected, and then answered his unspoken question. “I usually am too, but they have chicken pops at my school, and my mom doesn’t want me to get it. They give you spots and make you itch. Did you ever get them?”
    “I think so. I can’t remember,” he said seriously, continuing the exchange with his new friend in the pink shoes.
    “Well, I don’t have them, so you won’t get them from me. My brother had them last year, but I didn’t get them then either, so my mom doesn’t want me to get them now. Martha, who takes care of us, has the flu. My mom is getting her hair done, so I came down to visit. What are you going to be for Halloween?” The question took him by surprise, and he started laughing.
    “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.” He hadn’t worn a Halloween costume in twenty years.
    “You should,” she said solemnly. “It’s tomorrow.”
    “What are you going to be?” he asked her, enjoying talking to her. She was very bright and funny, and it made a boring morning of standing outside the Oval Office already more entertaining than his desk job.
    “I was going to be Cinderella, but the shoes are hard to walk in and I might fall down, so I’m going to be a mouse. I can wear my ballet shoes for that, and a tutu,” she added, looking pleased, and Marshall smiled.
    “A mouse in a tutu sounds like a great idea.”
    “My brother is going to be a vampire, and Daddy bought him fake blood. My mom says it’s going to make a mess everywhere,” she said, and giggled. The notion of the president of the United States going out to buy his son fake blood for his vampire costume sounded remarkably normal to him. It was a far cry from what he had been doing for the past six years, and reminded him of what other people did, who had family lives and kids. And with that, the door to the Oval Office opened, and suddenly the president was standing there and looked surprised to see his daughter chatting with the Secret Service man assigned to the door. He glanced at Marshall and smiled, and then down at