"
Only one man -- a male secretary -- asked why Mandi hadn't presented herself
at the front gate. The other four men and two women present were with the Secret
Service, and they already knew the answer. One of them rather brusquely told the
secretary to get back to work.
The guy pouted a bit as he left, then he asked the same question of the
President's secretary in a hurt tone.
She gave him a roll of her eyes and said, "Think about it, dummy. She wants
something or she wouldn't be here at all. This was just a grand entrance to let
POTUS know she's nobody to take lightly or mess with in the slightest way."
Stiffening at her words, the guy stalked away muttering, "She's not even a
U.S. citizen. I'll bet she doesn't even have a goddamned green card."
Perhaps two minutes passed before the electronic locks built into the doors
of the Oval Office snapped off and the President opened the doors to greet Mandi
with a handshake.
"Sorry about all the fuss," he said. "Come on in, ma'am."
Yes, he'd put on a show of being pleasant enough, but his calm had been an
act right up until their very last moment together, and his gaze had too often
been focused on her upper anatomy instead of her eyes during their conversation.
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