A Game of Optics

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth

"Elizabeth." Teresa smiled at her from the doorway, even more saccharine than usual. Cotton candy dipped in syrup.

"Madam Vice President, come in." Elizabeth gathered her files from her desk and motioned for Teresa to take a seat on the sofa. She spread the documents out on the coffee table. "I've heard back about our proposals for the safeguards regarding the international adoption programme."

"So I see," Teresa said, her eyebrows arched. She sat down on the edge of the cushion and peered over the array of paperwork. Then her gaze turned back to Elizabeth as Elizabeth sank into the seat beside her. "You look a little frazzled. Everything all right, I hope?"

Elizabeth's lips tugged into a tight smile. "I've a lot going on."

Teresa reached out as if to lay a hand on Elizabeth's arm, but she must have thought better of it, for her hand made a hasty retreat to the cushion between them. "Anything I can help with."

Elizabeth shook her head, and her smile faded. "Just personal stuff. Actually—" Best bite the bullet. "—I'm resigning as Secretary of State."

"Oh no," Teresa said, a touch too quickly, a fraction too bright. "I'm sorry to hear that." This time her hand made it to Elizabeth's arm, providing a fleeting touch and no comfort. "I had been hoping that you would stay on. Though, I have to say, I've always admired that you put your family before your career." She shook her head to herself, and that sweet smile lingered like icing sugar on her lips. "Some women are so work-focussed that they completely neglect their home lives, until of course, everything falls apart."

Elizabeth nodded, her face passive. But inside, something was niggling. It was the same feeling she used to have at the CIA, when something wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put a finger on it. Others would say she was obsessing, looking too hard for something that wasn't there. But she'd never been wrong; it just took a little thought and some patience as her mind turned things over. She had said 'personal stuff', but she hadn't mentioned her family. Of course, it was a reasonable assumption that 'personal' meant 'family', but was it reasonable for someone whose mind wasn't geared towards family, someone who had never hesitated to point out their lack of family? And there was something about the phrase 'put your family before your career' too—it echoed her conversation with Henry, about putting him above everything else. I love my job, but no where near as much as I love you.

Elizabeth continued with the meeting, talking Teresa through the changes and stipulations that the participating countries had requested, but all the while her mind was turning, churning the facts and suspicions until they thickened, until there was enough there to grasp.

As soon as Teresa had gone, Elizabeth picked up the phone and dialled Henry's number. "Hey." She hesitated. Her pulse quickened, and a cool sweat spread over her skin. What if the phone was bugged? They had swept the house, but not her office. "Are you...um...free for dessert?"

***

"Hey, babe." Henry gave her a broad smile. She held one finger up to her lips, crossed the room and dragged him into the washroom. She pulled the door shut behind him and switched on the tap. The roar of the water filled the room. Henry frowned at her. "Why do I get the feeling this isn't about dessert?"

"This is totally crazy," Elizabeth said, and had there been room to move in there, she would have been pacing, "but I think it might be Teresa Hurst."

"What?" Henry's frown deepened, utter confusion. She might as well have told him that she was joining the circus.

"The pictures," Elizabeth said, and his frown eased a little, though not much. "She said something to me earlier on, and it was like she knew what I had said the other day on the porch, about you being more important to me than my career. It made me think...what if she's behind it. What if she's set this all up because she knew that you were the one person I'd quit for?"