Alicia braced herself before leaving her private rooms. She had an appointment with Gold to be prepped for an upcoming press conference. At the door was standing her new bodyguard Kalinda Sharma, who fell into step behind her without a word, but not without casting a distinctly scornful look at the newspapers that Alicia was holding. The White House scandal was all over the front page. Great, Alicia thought. Even my bodyguard despises me for not leaving my husband.
Kalinda Sharma was the strangest choice of a bodyguard, Alicia mused, keeping her mind off her misery for a few moments. For one thing, she was a good three inches shorter than Alicia, which was not really reassuring. She looked tough and strong enough in her black suits and neat up-dos, but how could she possibly run and fight with those stiletto boots? And in spite of barely wearing any make-up, Kalinda was as inconspicuous as a paradise bird in Washington with her huge liquid dark eyes, caramel skin, curvy body and full lips. She was terribly attractive. At least that I would understand, Alicia thought, imagining Peter being attracted to Kalinda. That, however hypothetical, made some kind of sense.
But the strangest thing of all about her new bodyguard was that sometimes Alicia could distinctly feel her hostility. She didn't know what grudge the younger woman was holding against her, but it was not that reassuring either from someone who was supposed to protect her with her life if it came to it.
Today was one of those days when Alicia could tell that Kalinda's utter contempt was specifically targeted towards her. "What?" she couldn't help asking sharply. Kalinda seemed to hesitate. "Nothing Ma'am," she replied politely, her face now carefully blank again. Alicia felt a pang of despair. She didn't have any real friends anymore. Was she bound to be surrounded by nothing but enemies?
As a First Lady, Alicia was now used to being scrutinized, recorded, photographed, and every last detail of her outfit commented on in every media on the planet. But Peter's college girl had turned their lives into a bad reality show, and the public was eager to watch the First Lady crumble under pressure and to feast on her humiliation, righteous rage or whatever private feelings she had no desire to let out for everyone to see. She couldn't take one step outside the White House without dozens of paparazzi tracking her each and every move, harassing her with questions, waiting for her slightest slip to close in on her and crucify her across their front pages.
Thank god the kids were abroad, Grace on a humanitarian mission in Africa, and Zach working for an Asian tech company in Hong Kong. At least, they were sheltered from most of that sordid racket. But here she was, alone, and not a soul to really talk to. Owen, maybe? Her brother was currently teaching in California though. With the time difference, a phone call would have to wait. Alicia was practically a prisoner inside the White House and the loneliness, almost as much as the media pressure, was beginning to get the better of her.
The headlines were not good for Peter, the opinion polls at a record low, and Gold was pestering her to take a public stand and support her husband. Alicia thought about Hillary Clinton, sitting next to Bill on the "60 Minutes" set during Monicagate
and professing her love and respect for her husband. However determined to stay right where she was, Alicia wasn't sure she could do the same and still be able to live with herself afterwards. Isn't it enough of a stand not to leave Peter and file for divorce? she thought. But it wasn't.
So Alicia did her duty. Like a good wife, she stood by Peter. For better or for worse, right? Well, what could be worse? She had to face the world and tell the media she believed in Peter. She told them he was a good and reliable man, a devoted husband and father, and that as President he would never betray the confidence placed in him by the people of America. Caught in the moment, she even believed in every word herself. Peter was a good man and a good leader after all.
She ignored the cheating issue entirely. Not that the press intended to let her get away with it, of course. Reporters started grilling her on the topic, leaving her no options but to tackle it. She wanted to remain in power. She had earned this position and she intended to keep it at any price. As it turned out, she could pretend that her husband was falsely accused and that she was here to support him after all. Whatever the people needed to hear so they would keep their faith in him as President.
And then some journalist quoted a line from the intern, and Alicia knew for sure. The girl was telling the truth. Peter had slept with her. Alicia was lying to the American people to save her lying, cheating and philandering husband's neck – and her own. She was no better than him. She mustered all the dignity she could to make it to the end of the press conference without falling apart. But on her way out of the White House briefing room, the toll suddenly seemed pretty high on her personal ethics, and she all but collapsed.
At once she felt her bodyguard's firm grip on her. A whiff of Kalinda's spicy perfume floated up to her as she grabbed the smaller woman's shoulder for support. Kalinda was three inches shorter than her, yet she didn't budge under her weight. She put one arm round Alicia's waist and helped her get to the nearest seat. Alicia thought she could read a hint of concern in Kalinda's dark eyes. How pathetic was she to raise concern in a secret services agent who didn't even like her? Right now, she loathed herself for what she had just done.
Alicia was feeling sick, but Kalinda managed to bring her swiftly back to her private quarters, carefully avoiding the most frequented halls so as not to be spotted by anyone who might report anything alarming about the First Lady's health. The bodyguard usually checked the First Lady's rooms for intruders then quickly stepped outside to watch the door and screen visitors. This time, after seating Alicia on the sofa, Kalinda fetched a glass and poured a generous amount of whisky in it. She handed it to Alicia, who drank it bottoms up like a child ordered to take her medicine.
"You know what I don't get," Kalinda said, looking at her with something new burning fiercely in her dark eyes, "Why you stood by him. I would've stuck a knife in his heart."
Alicia, caught in the middle of her own inner turmoil by that unusual outpouring, stared at her bodyguard, surprised. Had she just overstepped? Surely she hadn't meant to meddle? Or could it be that she was genuinely interested in what Alicia had to say?
Kalinda was about to leave the room. She turned around and cast a silent questioning look on her. Alicia couldn't stand the thought of being left alone with her own thoughts, but the humiliation of realizing how obvious her distress was to Kalinda got the better of her. Overwhelmed by a hot wave of rage, she glared at her bodyguard. "Thank you, Kalinda," she said icily. Kalinda gave her a knowing look and went out without another word. Finally free to fall apart, Alicia burst into tears.