The Target(131)
He heard a door close behind him and turned around. Claire Cassion was advancing toward him. She had on another pair of skinny jeans and a long knitted sweater. In her front pocket he could see the outline of her smartphone. She had traded in the stilettos for clunky boots that were more suited to the wet grass. She gripped a mug of coffee with both hands as she walked up.
“Nice night,” she said. She held the mug up to her face and then said, “Nothing like coffee on a crisp night in Nantucket.”
“You like coffee?” said Robie.
“My mother doesn’t like me to drink too much. But when I pull all-nighters studying, it helps. And when I go to college I’m sure it’ll be part of my diet.” She set the mug down on a table next to a swing and pulled out her phone. “Hey, would you mind taking a picture with me? I’d like to post it on my Facebook page.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Robie.
“My mom won’t mind. Well, I’ll explain it to her.”
“It’s not that. It’s just that my work for the government requires me, well, to remain in the background.”
She put her phone away and her casual look and tone vanished. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“It’s not something either I or Agent Reel can talk about.”
She sat on the swing and motioned for him to sit next to her. Robie reluctantly did. She picked up her mug and looked over at a Secret Service agent who was patrolling the perimeter of the property. “Nothing like having armed guards with you all the time.”
“But think of the stories you’ll have to tell. There really haven’t been that many presidents, or that many first daughters. You’re in pretty select company.”
“I guess. It just doesn’t seem so, well, great right now.” She paused and studied him. “Have you known Agent Reel long?”
“Pretty long. We trained together way back when.”
“Is she good?”
“She wouldn’t have lasted all these years if she wasn’t.”
“Is she better than you?” Claire added playfully.
Robie looked at her with a serious expression. “In some ways, yes, she is. She’s also saved my life. More than once.”
Claire’s features turned serious again and she took a nervous sip of her coffee.
He said, “So, you like your school?”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve made some good friends.” She hesitated. “Mostly girls. The guys are—”
“You said immature? Sorry, that may not change much even when they get older.”
“It’s not so much that. But think about it. They have to come to the White House to pick me up for a date?”
“I can imagine your father can be pretty intimidating for a young man.”
“My dad’s a softie. It’s my mom who’s the tough one.”
“I’m sure she’s just looking out for you.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes she looks out too much.”
“What about your brother?”
“What about him?”
“You two get along?”
“He’s ten. I don’t have that much to do with him. He’s still just a kid, Will.”
“He’s also going through a rough time. He ever try and talk to you about it?”
“He would never come to me with something like that.”
“Why?”
“I mean, I’m almost six years older than he is. And he’s a boy. And I’m, well, I’m a woman.”
“I guess there is sort of a big gap in age between the two of you.”
Now Claire looked pained. “My mom, um, she had a miscarriage when I was about three.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Claire looked shocked that she had divulged this information. “Oh my God, please don’t tell anyone I told you that. I mean, very few people know and it never came out during the campaign and I know my mom would—”
Robie said, “Claire, I don’t repeat things people tell me to anyone. Ever.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
“But back to your brother. Did you two used to talk?”
“Sure, I mean, before Dad got elected. He was a governor before then. We lived in the executive mansion and everything, but it was nothing like this. Tommy was a sweet kid. He looked up to me.”
“I think he still does.”
She smiled. “There was this one year we went trick-or-treating? Dad went with us, on the sly so the camera crew wouldn’t follow us. You know what he was dressed as?”
Robie shook his head. “What?”
“Maleficent. You know, the wicked character from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. Everybody thought it was my mom. But she was in really high heels and was dressed as Darth Vader. That’s who they thought Dad was. It was really fun. It was like our own family secret. Something only we knew, when, you know…”