AT THE PLEASURE OF THE PRESIDENT
Josh looked out of the window, not even noticing the grandeur of the Vienna State Opera House. He wondered why he was sitting in a posh café when there was a perfectly situated Starbucks right across the Kärtnerstraße. And then his glance fell on his companion and remembered why. Yes, Arnold Vinick convinced him to taste Viennese coffee before they got home without the experience. Josh thought he would humor him. He also knew that this would be good enough to brag about to Donna later. The picture of her laugh upon hearing about his ‘culture clash’ with the natives warmed his heart immediately. So there he was, sitting across the Secretary of State who was enjoying his Wiener Melange while reading the International Herald Tribune.
Before wondering why he was sitting in the café house of the Hotel Sacher, Josh was thinking about Donna, and now his thoughts returned to her. He missed her. From time to time they were separated but they always knew when they would meet again. Not this time though. The suspense and the uncertainty didn’t sit well with him. With the years he became more patient but the stress was on ‘more’, it was still hard for him to sit around and wait. And it seemed to him that they did that a lot while on this trip to Vienna. The Secretary told him to chill, but Josh just wanted to get done with the job and go home. He didn’t like international politics, diplomats were even worse than Congressmen and Senators. He knew that President Santos needed him on this because of his history with the Palestine-situation but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
He briefly wondered whether he should swap jobs with Sam; sometimes he felt that he had been a better Deputy Chief of Staff than Chief of Staff. Right now, he would have given anything to have Otto’s job. Lou, Otto and Edie were on the campaign trail, and although Josh vowed never to plunge into another campaign with the same fervor he did the last time, he missed it. He missed the rhythm, the adrenalin, the drive. Instead of that, he was sitting across an old man, watching him drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. He chuckled silently; many would consider him an old man too. But he refused to think of himself in those terms. He was more mature and maybe more established but he didn’t notice big differences compared to how he was ten years-twelve years ago.
The only big difference was Donna. But she was a good kind of difference. They were now tuned to each other, and it wasn’t one-sided like back when she was his assistant. He knew that Donna had the slight advantage because of the natural sensibility of women, but his sensors were pretty fine tuned by now when it came to Donna’s moods and needs. He looked around and noticed that there was an ad for a café shop in the same building. Maybe he should buy her something. He drank his Doppelmokka, recommendation of the Secretary for its extra strength, and stood up.
“Going to the café shop, Josh?” the Secretary looked over the rim of his glasses.
Josh flashed a grin at him, already knowing that the Secretary was freakish that way.
“Yeah, I thought I would surprise Donna with something,” Josh said nonchalantly. He knew that the Secretary looked right through him; he caught him on the phone to Donna twice already. He knew how he liked to tease her and probably noticed how whipped he was.
“There is a chocolate powder sort of thing my wife always found heavenly,” the Secretary said, and when Josh cocked an eyebrow at him he smirked. “Her words, not mine.”
“Thank you for the tip, sir,” Josh said with a smile. Once he got acquainted with the Secretary, he admitted he liked him. He was an honest man, not many of those run around the DC.
“Although you and Donna are big on coffee, right?” Vinick asked with a chuckle.
“Well, sir, it’s a long story,” Josh said with a grin.
“We have time,” Vinick said, motioning to Josh to sit back.
“Okay, not so long,” Josh said. “While she was my assistant she refused to bring me coffee. She did everything else for me, but from the first moment on she refused to fetch me coffee. Her words, not mine,” he added with a brief grin.
“And that’s why it’s always a big thing when you bring her coffee?” Vinick asked.
“Yes. You see, I thought that once we were together she would bring me coffee, but boy was I wrong!” Josh said with a self-deprecating smile.
“Okay,” Vinick said hesitantly.
“It’s a family thing,” Josh explained. “My mother used to bring my father coffee every morning, he would read the paper to her and they would talk about politics or theatre or about me over coffee.”
“You have time to have breakfast together?” the Secretary asked perplexed.
“Usually,” Josh admitted, briefly wondering why he wasn’t embarrassed about discussing his family life with the Secretary of State. A Republican to top it off. ‘And how comes that he knows about me bringing coffee for Donna?’
The Secretary returned to his newspaper, and Josh stood up once again to leave for the café shop.
“Maybe it’s a marriage thing,” Vinick said absent-mindedly. “My wife used to bring me coffee all the time.”
Josh glared at him flabbergasted and then shook his head to clear his mind.
“It was a conscious decision. Should we still be together at the end of the first term, it would be enough proof that we are committed to make this work no matter what comes,” he explained against his better judgment.
The Secretary looked up, cast a piercing look at Josh and then returned to his paper.
“You survived Rosslyn and Gaza, I wouldn’t wait too long. Life is short,” Vinick imparted the age-old wisdom.
“We are together,” Josh defended their decision.
“She won’t bring you coffee,” the Secretary said, lowering his paper once again.
“What does that mean?” Josh asked back, a bit harsher than he intended to.
“Well, I’m not a shrink but that shows that she is insecure, and the fact that it hurts you shows that you are insecure too,” Vinick said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
Josh looked at him, once again dumbfounded by his remark.
“Josh, people like you act when trapped in a corner,” Secretary Vinick continued. “Don’t wait until something happens that forces you into it.”
“Don’t say that!” Josh exclaimed, drawing the Secret Service agents’ attention to them. “Don’t say that,” he repeated then in a whisper.
“You are superstitious?” Vinick asked him incredulously.
“Every time I think that my life is back on track and voice the feeling, something happens that throws me off. I don’t like taking chances,” Josh explained.
“Well, I…” the Secretary wanted to say something but Josh’s phone cut him off.
Josh looked down at the display and paled. He felt like someone dropped an ice cube down his back. He did the math in a second and then felt bile rising up in his throat. It was four in the morning in DC. He had to sit down again, his legs wobbling like those of a rickety old desk.
“You don’t want to pick it up?” Secretary Vinick asked, sending a questioning look over the rim of his glasses.
“It’s Donna,” Josh whispered and then looked up. The Secretary’s face was drained of blood.
“Pick it up, Josh,” he urged, and Josh nodded. He tried to shake off the numb feeling that took over his body and lifted the Blackberry to his ear.
“Hi, honey,” he greeted Donna, his voice shaky.
“It’s nice to hear you too,” he heard a familiar voice, just not the voice he was hoping for. “Now, don’t say my name and get to the next secure phone, ASAP!”
“What’s wrong?” Josh asked, his mind is still clouded with fear.
“Listen, she is okay, please get to the next secure phone and call me. We are in the room under her office,” Matt Santos said, and Josh gulped. His stomach didn’t like the thought of the President calling him on Donna’s Blackberry. The reason behind that left him not only puzzled but incredible nervous. And that’s when he heard her voice, shouting: “What?!”
“And she is okay?” Josh asked back, trying to focus.
“SHE is okay,” President Santos reiterated, however this time the emphasis was on the pronoun.
“Okay,” Josh said and hung up. His mind suddenly clear and focused, he gave the signal to their agents, and then turned to the Secretary. “We have to go to the embassy.”
“What happened?” the Secretary asked concerned. “Who was on the phone?”
“POTUS,” Josh whispered, his face still pale, his voice still shaky but there was an unmistakable determination in his eyes that mirrored his will to master the situation no matter what.
GO TO PART FOUR