“What about Ambassador Ferguson? She’s got foreign policy experience coming out her ears.”
He flicked away what I thought was very sound advice. “Juliet’s not a team player.” He sat down and leaned toward me. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Take a minute, why don’t you?”
I took a couple deep breaths, which didn’t help as much as I had hoped. Then my stomach rumbled, and I blushed in spite of myself.
“I can order some room service if you like.”
“Yes—no. Actually, I just need to go back to my hotel, get something to eat, and take a moment to think through a couple of things. Can I call you in an hour—ninety minutes tops?”
Frustration crept into his expression. “You know, most people wouldn’t have to be asked twice to be the next vice president.”
“Possibly, but most people don’t go on national TV and call the brother of a war hero a coward.” I took a breath to keep me from saying something even more stupid.
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