Stephanie Doyle - Her Secret Service Agent

“I do. But here is the thing. According to Vivian, she only told one other person McGraw referred to her as Sugarplum.”

“Me?”

“No, her therapist.”

Joe tried to keep his expression blank, but it wasn’t easy. Not when the world knew what McGraw had done to her.

“But it occurred to me that you were there with her in the cabin,” Thompson said. “You might have heard McGraw use the name, as well. I communicated that to President Bennett, and he agreed you should be checked out, as well.”

Joe almost laughed. Bennett knew damn well Joe had nothing to do with terrorizing Vivian. This visit was just his way of telling Joe to stay clear of her. Which was why Joe hadn’t been all that surprised by their arrival. He’d almost expected it since learning she was back in DC.

Ten years was a long time. But not long enough to forget. At least not for President Bennett.

“I can’t help you,” Joe said finally.

He stood and shook hands with Carl. He ignored the puppy.

Then he decided he’d had a hell of day and needed a drink.

* * *

THE DOOR TO the bar opened, and a ray of bright light poured in. For a moment the place seemed to glow, then once more it sank back into its familiar gloominess. Joe could hear someone walking toward him on high-heeled shoes, delicately clicking against the floor. And he knew. He knew it before he turned his head.

“Hi, Joe.”

Vivian Abigail Eleanor Bennett. The last time he saw her, her eyes were swollen shut and her lips were parched and split. But now the angry red gash on her forehead had healed. The ugly purple bruises on her face and collarbone had vanished. Although he noticed she had dark circles under her eyes.

She was stunning. As a young woman she had been pretty, made even more so by how little she realized it. Ten years later and she was drop-dead gorgeous. Same blue eyes and long blond hair, but the ten years had only added to her looks.

Her mother had been a Southern Belle Beauty Queen champion, so it was no surprise where her looks came from. Still, it jolted him.

“May I sit?”

He nodded, unable to find the words after all these years. It was a tie between I’m so sorry I let you go and You ruined my life.

He couldn’t imagine it would be much different for her. Something along the lines of I shouldn’t have kissed you and You bastard, how could you let that monster hurt me?

The bartender approached her and hiked his chin as a signal he was ready for her order. Dom’s wasn’t a really formal place.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” She smiled.

“I’m having a shot of Jack and a Guinness chaser.”

“I’ll have a Chardonnay,” she said and then placed a bill on the bar, which Dom traded for the glass of wine.

Joe shook his head. It was surreal. He could turn his head and look at her. Talk to her. When for so long she’d been nothing but an image on a screen. For weeks after he’d been fired, he’d watched every second of media coverage he could find, replaying it over and over again so he could see for himself how she was healing. If the bruises were fading. If she was still favoring her right side.

Then, of course, came the interview. The one that was supposed to settle the incident and repair the American psyche. After all, if the president’s daughter could be abducted and abused by a monster, then no one in this country was safe.

Then the other incident happened. Joe hadn’t stuck around to watch that.

Now she was sitting next to him drinking a glass of wine he could tell was foul by the way she winced after every sip.

“What the hell are you doing here, Viv?”

She set the glass aside and turned to face him. Again he was struck by how beautiful she’d become. Or maybe he’d forgotten how pretty she’d been back then because he had always shut down those thoughts.

Mostly.

“I’m sorry about what happened today. I had no idea that Carl would...”

“Question me? Interrogate me? Suspect me?”

She gulped. “Any of those things, I suppose.”

Joe shrugged. “Hey, just another day getting my life turned upside down by the Bennetts. Not like that hasn’t happened before.”

Vivian nodded. “I guess I deserved that.”

She didn’t deserve any of it, he thought. Yet she deserved all of it, too.

“You ruined my life,” he said and laughed. Because she would hear one thing, but he knew it to mean something else entirely.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Then she laughed, too. “Wow, that felt good. For so long I’ve thought about how to tell you that. At one point I thought maybe skywriting it over an Orioles’ home game. ‘Joe. Hunt. I’m. Sorry.’ Big block letters so I would know you would see them. It actually feels strange to finally say it.”

It would have been easy enough to say she had nothing to be sorry for. It would be easy for him to ask forgiveness for screwing up and letting her get hurt. But they’d both be lying if they forgave each other.

“I did try to fix it. I didn’t know you had been fired. I thought you had resigned. Cindy, remember her?”

The agent who should have been on point detail that night instead of him. “Yeah. I remember her.”

“She told me what really happened. I went to Daddy, but he didn’t want to listen...then I sent a letter to your superior at the time and I explained to him what happened. You deserved your job back.”

“That was you,” Joe said, remembering the odd call he’d gotten from Tom, his old boss, a few years ago. It had been right after Bennett left office after his second term. Tom determined that Joe hadn’t been given a fair hearing. Tom wanted to know if Joe would consider reinstatement under suspension, on condition of a formal review of the incident.

Joe had been too far removed from his old life to think about going back. No, he had his freedom, his business, the life he’d built after his spectacular failure. It wasn’t great, but he owned it. Grasping at the past didn’t feel like a solution because nothing could be undone.

Things could only begin again.

“I thought you would go back,” she said.

“I didn’t want it.”

“I thought maybe the Colonel...”

“The Colonel was dead by then.” So there was no hope of regaining his father’s approval. Not that Joe would have wanted it. He could be just as stubborn as his old man.

“I know. I just meant I thought you might do it for him.”

Joe looked at her. “How did you know about the Colonel?”

“Your mom,” Vivian said as if it were obvious. “You must know we still keep in touch. We’re friends on Facebook. I get to see all the grandchildren your siblings are producing. Your nephew Mike looks exactly like you. He’s mastered your serious frown.”

She was smiling like it was a shared moment between them, but his mind was blown. No, he didn’t know she was in touch with his mother this entire time. On Facebook? It was inconceivable.

Did his father know that? Vivian Bennett hadn’t been a popular topic in the Hunt household after the kidnapping.

“Why are you here?” he asked again, suddenly irritated. With her, with his mother for not telling him she was talking to Vivian. And that his mother knew how Vivian was doing while he did not. That his mother would have seen pictures of that life on freaking Facebook of all things.

“To apologize for Carl’s visit. It must have surprised you to learn I was back in DC.”

“I knew you were back,” he admitted. “Too many people I know who knew you. They loved telling me, too, like they expected some kind of reaction. You have to love people and their desire to create drama.”

Another lie. He had heard she was back, that was true. What she didn’t know was that he’d gone to her store in Georgetown. Vivian’s Creations. He’d played out a dozen scenarios where he opened the door and walked inside. Said hello.