Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(36)
‘Yeah, but not babysit them!’ she retorted, crossing her arms in defiance.
‘Well, if you’re not keen, I can always cancel the visit,’ said the President nonchalantly. ‘I just thought having a guy your age around the White House would make a nice change.’
Alicia struggled not to let her jaw drop open in shock. A boy? Her age? That was most unusual. Typically, her father was over-protective when it came to the subject of boys.
‘No … it’s OK,’ she backtracked, her interest now piqued. ‘So, who is he?’
‘The son of an old and trusted friend who I knew from my time in Iraq.’
‘He’s an Iraqi?’
‘No, he’s English. His father was a soldier.’
Trying hard not to appear too keen, Alicia began to inspect one of her fingernails for imaginary dirt. ‘When do I get to meet him?’
‘As soon as you’re ready. He’s waiting for you in the Diplomatic Reception Room.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Alicia, jumping up from the sofa and looking at her school clothes in horror. ‘I can’t see him like this!’
President Mendez tried to suppress a smile as he watched his daughter dash out of the Oval Office towards the main residence to get changed. Diplomacy was one thing he excelled at, especially when it came to convincing people that certain decisions were their own.
Connor waited nervously in the large oval reception room on the ground floor of the White House. He was alone, apart from a discreet Secret Service agent, who stood stock-still and silent by a set of double doors like he was part of the furniture. The soft gold and blue decor of the stately room did little to alleviate Connor’s worries. Despite the distraction of the stunning panorama of American landscapes that circled the entire room, Connor couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about his first encounter with the President’s daughter.
How should I act? Formal or casual in my manner? Or should I just be myself? What am I going to say? And what if Alicia takes an instant dislike to me? How am I going to do my job then …
As all these concerns whirled through his mind, the double doors opened and President Mendez stepped through, followed by his daughter and two Secret Service agents.
‘Connor, welcome to the White House,’ greeted the President, warmly shaking his hand. ‘I’m so glad we could arrange your stay. Please allow me to introduce my daughter, Alicia.’
For a moment, Connor was speechless. Alicia was even more attractive than the photos had suggested. Dressed in a striking sunflower-yellow frock, her bronze complexion seemed to almost glow, and he found himself mesmerized by her deep brown eyes …
Connor pulled himself together. These weren’t the thoughts of a professional bodyguard. He wasn’t here to admire his Principal. He was here to protect her.
‘Hi … I’m Connor,’ he finally managed to blurt out and, for some reason, bowed.
‘Pleased to meet you too,’ Alicia replied with an amused smile. ‘But there’s no need to bow.’
‘Well … you are the President’s daughter.’
‘True, but I’m not royalty!’
Connor’s cheeks flushed a little with embarrassment at his mistake in etiquette.
President Mendez glanced between them both and waited for either to say more. When neither did, he prompted, ‘Well, now that you’ve met, I suggest, Alicia, you give Connor a tour of our home.’
Alicia nodded dutifully.
President Mendez turned to Connor and shook his hand. ‘Sorry I can’t join you. I have to get back to running the country! But I do hope all goes well during your stay with us,’ he said, shooting Connor a knowing wink.
‘Thank you, Mr President,’ Connor replied as the great man took his leave, the two agents remaining behind.
Once her father was gone, there was a moment of awkward silence. Connor exchanged a strained smile with Alicia as they each sought for something to say.
Then Alicia began. ‘So … this is the Diplomatic Reception Room.’
Her hand swept round the decorated walls.
‘Ermm … Jacqueline Kennedy had this pictorial wallpaper put up in the sixties. That’s Niagara Falls over there … New York Bay … Boston Harbor. And this old fireplace is where President F. D. Roosevelt broadcast his famous fireside chats.’
Connor nodded politely. While he’d never heard of Roosevelt or his broadcasts, he was more than happy for Alicia to take him on a guided tour, since it gave him the opportunity to get to know her. As a bodyguard, it was important to quickly assess a Principal’s character and manner so that one could work efficiently and agreeably with them.
‘In the past, this room housed a furnace and boiler,’ she explained, ‘and before that it was used by servants for polishing the silver.’
Maintaining the formality of the occasion, Alicia guided him next door to the China Room and showed him its priceless displays of ivory and burnished gold china. Next, they moved on to the Vermeil Room with its extensive collection of silver-gilt tableware; the wooden-panelled Library with its unusual lighthouse clock; and, to Connor’s great surprise, a bowling alley in the basement. Then they climbed the Grand Staircase up to the State Floor. The first point of call was the East Room – a magnificent ceremonial hall with long gilded drapes, a marble fireplace and antique glass chandeliers hanging above a Steinway grand piano. As they traipsed through the furniture displays in the Green, Blue and Red Rooms, Connor was struggling to maintain his interest. Impressive as the White House was, there was only so much antiquity and artwork he could take.