Chapter One

Penelope talks to the President about the new Chinese visitors.

I open the huge wooden door to The Oval Office, silently watching Marc from the crack in the door.  I slip in the large room, making a bigger deal about it than I probably should have, but watching Marc's reaction.  I stood in the back near the door, watching people's every move, cause that's what you do when you love the man in control of the United States.

The Chinese spoke with such a accent that it was hard for me to understand.  I tried to make out as much as I can, hearing "money" and "power" and "oil".  Then Marc talked about everything we could do as one, blah, blah, blah.  I hate politics.  The only reason I took the job as an intern was to see Marc again.  And boy, did I get to see him, get his coffee, and his dry cleaning.  I would leave little notes with all his stuff, but he still didn't show any signs of love back.  I would get the occasional nod, a look in my direction.  We must've made I contact once while since I've been here, which is almost a month.  The only reasons I stay is because of Marc.  And the pay.  The pay was great.  Marc made sure I got paid more than most interns.  That's the only reason I know he still loves me.  He always has.  He only married Katherine because she was a safe chance.  I was a wild card, barely finishing Harvard, getting drunk at all the parties, which sucked at Harvard, by the way.  I was the girl version of a player, but I always followed Marc, the most popular boy.  I knew he was meant to be with me, the most popular girl.  He loves me.  I refuse to deny it.  I'm not crazy.  

"Thank you,"  He said, and the Chinese men departed.  I got a few nods, and the oldest one looked down my shirt, smiling and winking.  I smirked back, leaving my eyes on Marc, hoping he would see how I wore a low-cut shirt purposely for him.  And the shortest skirt.  And the most see-through stockings.  And the smoky eye make up to look even more sexy.  My tan complexion, and my black straight hair slid down my face.  I had colorful eyes, having a blue rim, bright green, and then got darker, almost to brown in the middle.  It was exotic, and they were my prized possession, along with my heart shaped face, and nice figure.  I pretty much love everything about myself.  And so does everyone else.  I just wish Marc saw that.  But no, he stares at his wife's flat chest and stick figure.  She has this milky complexion and these black eyes that just stare you down.  There was nothing friendly in those eyes.  I brought it up to Marc, and he yelled, for the first time I had ever heard him.  He said her eyes were the most beautiful thing ever, a deep brown, but all I ever saw was the color of crap, if anything.  I knew he was lying anyway, I was much prettier than her...

"Hello Pen,"  He said.

"Hello Marc,"

"What embarrassing torment are you going to put me through today?"

Embarrassing?  Please, he loved it.  "Uh huh, embarrassing, of course,"

"You sent me a thorn-less rose, in my room.  My wife was there, if you know what I mean.  And then you sent me little notes with my, what, dry-cleaning?  I grew up in an strict household, I can do that for myself if it's to hard for you.  Dry cleaning, nothing more.  You get?  Good."

"You love it, you know you do,"

"I hired you for your experience, to bring some excitement to the workplace.  Along with being professional.  You're in the White House, Pen.  Act like it."

"You called me Pen,"

"Penelope Miranda Sellon," 

"I like Pen,"  I said, slurring my words, acting as sensual as possible.  The more I tried, the more he ignored me.  Maybe if he hated me, I could get his attention.  Good tactic.

"Why are you here, Pen?"

"I'm here, Marc,"  I repeated his name on my lips, hoping he liked it.  "Because I wanted to get the time and date for the press interview about the China Issue,"

"It's now an Issue?"

"That's what the press is calling it,"

"I'm using the oil to give more to China, who doesn't have a lot.  It should make us more of an eco-friendly country..."  

He dragged on and on about all of this eco-friendly blur, and I let my eyes glaze over with boredom.  It was all Katherine's idea anyway.  The Marc that I knew could care less about being "eco-friendly", and was more hell-bent on order.  That's why he's an amazing president.  And an amazing husband.  For me.

"Let's go to that press conference,"  He moved out of that room like lightning, Katherine standing right outside when the door opened.  What a pitiful woman.  Marc gathered her in in a hug that I would have melt for.  It was meant for me.  I knew it.  She was just in the way.

"Damn Pen,"  Marc said, walking out of the conference room.  "The press is horrible,"

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that,"  I said, stroking his arm gentle but sure.  He didn't back away!  He leaned into me a little, but then twitched a little as a put more pressure on his arm and moved a little more up and down, reaching past his arm, ticking the palm of his hands.  His hands were huge, and so was he.  He was like 6'5'' or something, and his hands were gigantic!  They were also really soft and sweet, just waiting to be held.  I tried to hold his, but he jerked away.  

"I have a favor to ask of you,"  He said.

"What?"

"I want you to go over to the Mongi's, okay?"

"Mongi's"

"They're the Chinese men that were over in my office earlier today.  What?  Did you not read the briefing that I gave you two weeks to read?  What can I say?  I'm not in shock.  I knew this would happen."  He slouched a little more and moved away.  He opened up the doors to his office.  

"Then why do you hire me?"

"Never mind."

"What?"

"I need you to do this for me, okay?"

"Anything for you,"  I said, slurring my words, acting lovable as always.  Kill 'em with kindness.  Right?  Except in this case, I would never, ever, ever kill Marc.  He is my center, my all, the love I meant to be with for all of my life.  If anything ever happened to him, I would die.  My light would be gone.  I would never go on.  It's more like love them with kindness, to try to make them love you... more.  Because he already loves me.