Slowly the White House began to empty out. The cleaning crew made its way through the offices, but Tate continued to work. She’d thrown herself under the bus, but it would be worth it. She waited for the shit to hit the fan. It didn’t take long. At ten at night, she heard footsteps racing down the hall toward her office.

“Tate!” Humphrey panted. “Birch needs you now. I’m so sorry.” Humphrey waved his hand to hurry her along.

Tate didn’t ask questions about why the president needed to see her. She knew. “Welcome back, Humphrey. How was your trip?” she asked as they walked down the long hallway in the empty residence toward the informal living room where Birch liked to relax.

“Good. Brock will be here tomorrow,” Humphrey said absently as he hurried along the hall.

“Fourth of July. Seems like a good time,” Tate said, trying to ease the tension practically coming off Humphrey in waves.

Tate saw Birch pacing through the door. Here went nothing. This move would either save them or get her fired. It was a fifty-fifty shot, so she’d rolled the dice and gone with it.

“Jesus, Tate. I don’t know how they found this. I’m so sorry. You’d better have a seat,” Birch said, taking her hand.

Tate took a seat on the couch as Birch un-paused the television. Claudia was gleefully looking into the camera. “This is not suitable for small children so I’ll give you a minute to get them out of the room. President Stratton fired President Mitchell’s accomplished press secretary and replaced him with former reporter Tate Carlisle. It’s known that Miss Carlisle was fired from BBN, and while we don’t know the reason, we can guess that this might have something to do with it.”

The screen went to an old grainy photo, and Tate saw herself nude from the back straddling a man in a lounge chair. She had been at a private villa on a private beach in the Caribbean, but still someone had caught a picture of her making love to Fitz. Although, she obscured Fitz’s face with her bare back, she knew who it was and soon everyone else would, too. In all honesty, it wasn’t much to go on. Her face was identifiable, but the beach towel around her waist prevented anything from being seen. And since the photo was shot with a super-long lens from what looked to be a boat, the photo was also blurry. Tate was only seen from the back, so while it was bad, it could have been worse.

Tate looked back and realized Humphrey had left and closed the door behind him. Birch stood nervously by her, looking down to gauge her reaction. “I’m so sorry, Tate, but you’ll have to address it. I don’t know how they got it.” Birch ran his hand through his perfect politician hair, which only made him sexier. His tie was off and the top buttons on his shirt were open as he began to pace.

“I’m not fired?” Tate asked with surprise.

“Why? Because someone illegally took a photo of you in an intimate—” Birch’s face got red as he let out a loud exhale. He appeared to be struggling with the next words.

“Because someone took a photo of me having sex,” Tate finished for him. “Then, if you’re not going to fire me, I’d better tell you the whole truth.”

Tate paused as Claudia continued talking about the photo after reading off Tate’s résumé. “What gets me is this woman is in on every major decision the president makes. Can we trust her to make good decisions for this country when she can’t even make good ones regarding her personal life? Remember to tune in on Monday night to see my exclusive interview with the single President Stratton, and you can bet I’ll be asking him if this photo played any role in the hiring of Tate Carlisle. Speaking of President Stratton, the economy continues to struggle as foreign investors have begun to pull out of the market.”

Birch turned the television off. “What do you mean, the truth? Is that not you?”

Tate shook her head. “No, that’s me. Only I know how they got it.”

“How?” Birch asked as Tate pulled out her cell phone. Birch moved closer to see what she was pulling up on the screen. She felt the couch cushion dip as he sat down to look at the photo she held up. “That’s the photo, but it’s on Tinselgossip.com. So—“

Birch shrugged “—Claudia pulled it from a gossip site.”

Tate pulled up her photos. “And Brent Eller got it from me.” Tate showed Birch the image that was now splashed all over the news.

“Why would you do that?” Birch asked in horror as he looked away from the image to Tate’s face.

“Because I also have this,” Tate swiped to the image of a paused video and pressed Play.

Sounds of sex seemed to echo around the room as Claudia and Fitz were clearly seen on a bed together. Claudia was on all fours as Fitz thrust into her from behind. “You’ll take me as your client as soon as that bitch gets fired from BBN, won’t you, Fitz?”

Fitz grunted but didn’t answer.

Claudia twisted her hips and fell onto the bed, leaving Fitz flapping in the wind. “Won’t you, Fitz?”

“BBN is about to offer Tate a new deal,” Fitz said unhappily. “I’m just too good,” he shrugged. “Now, get back up here.”

Claudia slammed her hand into the mattress. “No! You don’t get to finish until you promise that if I can get her fired, you’ll become my agent. I want my own show. No more co-anchoring. And I want international syndication.”

“If you can get her fired, then I’m all yours,” Fitz said smugly.

Claudia smiled and rolled back to Fitz as the tape continued.

“Where did you get this?” Birch asked, looking slightly uncomfortable to be sitting so close to Tate while watching a sex tape.

“Claudia’s tablet. She recorded many of her and Fitz’s liaisons. And he’s not the only one.” Tate pulled up a still of one of the other recordings. From watching them, it was clear that, one, the men didn’t know they were being recorded, and two, Claudia enjoyed the power trip she had over getting the men to agree by withholding sex. The men went blindly into the slaughter, dick first.

“Wait a second,” Birch leaned forward to get a better look at the photo Tate had pulled up. “That’s Peter. He’s one of my Secret Service agents.”

Tate nodded. “I met his wife today. Soon–to-be ex-wife. She didn’t know who I was, but she told me Peter likes to engage in pillow talk about his work. She said as soon as Claudia found out what Peter did for a living, she was all over him. He’s your leak.”

“At best, he’s unknowingly feeding information to Mollia Domini. Claudia’s like a black widow spider, isn’t she? She lures men into her bed and then kills them—professionally, that is. So, the first guy was your agent, and I’m guessing something else, too. Are you sure you’re okay with having that out there?”

Tate looked up and saw concern in Birch’s eyes. “It’s for a greater cause. Claudia will come after me in her interview with you. And I’m sure she’ll try to lure you into her web as well. But while she’s doing that, this video of her and Fitz will be exposed at Tinselgossip.com. Plus, Flint Scott will be running a piece on Claudia’s unethical use of her position as a reporter to push her own agenda. Claudia will be on air and have no idea what hit her. The backlash will be epic from both the station and the public. It will help curb the public’s opinion of you, too. Mollia Domini has just been caught in a massive manipulation.

“This is a huge hit to their organization since it depends on influencing the public into accepting their agenda. Mollia Domini wants to blame you for all of the failures in the world.

“When they get ready to revolt, Mollia Domini will come in to save them. The people will believe Mollia Domini will help give the public what it needs, not President Stratton. People will become dependent on Mollia Domini for everything. But as we know, Mollia Domini won’t stop there. They’ll take that power when the people give up their rights in exchange for rescue, and Mollia Domini will then be unstoppable. However, to do this, they need the media to push their agenda now. They need the media to manipulate public opinion of you and instill fear, which is nothing but a poison to the public,” Tate said passionately.

“But, now their main conduit has been caught manipulating the system. People aren’t stupid. They’ll see it, now that their eyes have been opened to it. And they’ll start to fight back with the simple action of questioning the news as it’s presented. Questions that Mollia Domini doesn’t want asked,” Birch said with understanding.

“And Mollia Domini will be forced off their current plan, and that’s when they’ll make a mistake. We need to find out who’s up the ladder from her in the organization,” Tate said.

“I say we do that through old-fashioned surveillance. I’m hoping Lizzy and Valeria can take over at that point. I believe Claudia will head straight to her handler,” Birch said, standing up as he began to pace again. Tate could see his mind working out the problem.

Birch looked at the woman he was now standing before. It bothered him to know she had spread that picture of herself to the gossip site. Tate was putting herself, her feelings, and her reputation on the line to corner Mollia Domini. He’d be damned if she hadn’t done it. Now it was up to him to protect her from the fallout.

“Stay here. With me.”

Tate looked up at him, her violet eyes blinking in confusion. “I am. I’m sleeping in my office tonight.”

“No,” Birch said, shaking his head. “Stay here. With me. Tomorrow celebrate the Fourth of July with me. We’ll stand together, knowing that, come Monday, we have a chance at stopping this organization once and for all. And I want you by my side when we do.”

Birch felt his heart pound. He hadn’t felt like this since his wife died. He missed her, yes, but as the years went by, he found himself longing for a partner again. Someone for him to love and someone to love him in return. Someone who didn’t care that he was a powerful member of Congress and now the most powerful man in the world. Someone who only cared about him for the man he was, not the power he wielded. He’d known Tate was that woman from the second she had walked into his office. He’d tried to keep it professional, but he found himself thinking about her more than he should. And now he was consumed with the need to keep her safe.

“I don’t understand,” Tate said slowly. Birch blinked. Like his wife. Dammit. Was he doing this because he couldn’t save his wife when he was overseas in the Army or was it because he did have feelings for Tate?

Birch wanted to punch himself. He felt like an unsure teenager and that bothered him more than not knowing if what he felt for Tate was real. “You’re staying here tonight. Go get your things.”

“Okay,” Tate said softly as she got up. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I did. Now go get your things. We need to discuss your statement to the press over this photo. Our next actions must be choreographed perfectly in order for this to work.” Birch watched as Tate stood and took a deep breath.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Tate left the room, and Birch finally relaxed. What an idiot he was. He might possibly be confusing his feelings for Tate with his late wife, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to see her safe. And having her under his roof would be a good way for Birch to figure out just what the hell he was feeling. He certainly knew how he felt when he saw that picture of Tate with another man—jealous. And that certainly wasn’t a feeling he would have if his emotions weren’t somehow engaged.