Free Madam President by Blayne Cooper, T Novan Page A

more determined than ever not to fall out. After the first week she stopped wishing Dev were dead and started wishing she was. But then, begrudgingly, grouchily, as the days ticked by, her body began to accept this new demand.
     
    On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays Dev worked out in the White House's private gym for at least an hour and a half, which was something Lauren found infinitely more palatable than the running. In this arena she had even shown the President a thing or two. Sunday was 'family day'. And Dev, 'the no good, lazy whelp' – Lauren underlined the words, drawing a wickedly smiling devil's face, complete with horns and flames shooting from her nose – didn't 'officially' exercise. But the woman got twice as much of a workout as normal because she always gave Emma the day off and took to chasing after Ashley, Chris and Aaron herself.
     
    Dev even slept in until seven thirty or eight on Sundays, unless something crucial required her attention. Which, so far, had happened four Sundays in a row. But to Devlyn's credit, she usually wrapped up her business before the children even woke up and didn't pick back up with it until they were tucked safely in bed.
     
    The blonde woman quickly discovered that Devlyn was always working, even when she wasn't. And while Lauren could sneak back to the privacy of her room and collapse on her bed, Dev was always in a series of meetings or just one more phone call away from a little time to herself. Many nights Lauren would lay awake in bed, listening for Devlyn's quiet footsteps as she slowly padded her way from her office to her bedroom... well after midnight. Lauren privately wondered if anyone could keep up the maddening pace established in this first month. And more importantly, why would they want to?
     
    But, despite what she'd come to call the 'grind', there were still a heaping handful of pleasant memories that stood out in her mind and made her smile just to recall them. She had discovered that Dev was at her most Presidential away from the White House.
     
    Lauren got a surprising thrill when she traveled with Devlyn in the Presidential motorcade. It wasn't the motorcade itself. Well, okay, she admitted privately, it is a great ego trip to feel like the world is spinning just for you. But what was even better, was that it gave her the opportunity to sneak a few moments alone with Devlyn. And although she wasn't positive, she suspected that Devlyn felt the same way. The older woman's sly grin, as she would shuffle them toward the waiting car, gave her away.
     
    It was at times like these, alone in the back of Dev's limousine, that they enjoyed some of their best conversations. In the past, Lauren had always prepared questions on note cards for her other subjects, stuffing them into her pockets to be used at a moment's notice. So far, with Devlyn, she hadn't even bothered. Dev was always willing to talk. She was honest and funny, and Lauren wasn't sure how it happened, but one day she heard herself laughing and telling Devlyn about her own college days, her research long forgotten in the wake of genuine smiles and a growing camaraderie.
     
    They were becoming friends. Lauren could feel it. And while professionally she was certain this was a bad idea, personally she couldn't dredge up a single drop of will power to fight against it. She liked Devlyn Marlowe. And the more she got to know her, the more she wanted to know.
     
    During the times she wasn't trailing after the President like a wayward puppy, Lauren was researching Devlyn's family tree, consulting several well-known genealogists and even a cultural geographer. While Devlyn's lineage wasn't going to be the focus of the biography any more than the campaign was, most readers seemed to appreciate it if you started at the beginning. Though, on occasion, Lauren would skip around chronologically and focus on the present day, trying to fit pieces of information with other bits and scraps of knowledge that