Time: Modern Day
Location: Washington DC

Mal was stoked with their accommodation and expense account. These new contracts were insanely generous . . .too much so . . . to be honest.

He was so looking forward to going to the White House. It had been a lifelong dream since he began studying journalism as a hobby . . . to get to sit in on an interview with a world leader even if it was just as a cameraman or producer.

A lame-duck President would suffice even though the chances were that she would no longer be President come November.

He hardly slept even though he and Layla had made love twice. They left early in a limo arranged by the White House. They were shown into a banquet room four times the size he anticipated. The breakfast was a served buffet similar to American breakfasts at five-star hotels. It was delicious and Mal wolfed down his bacon and fried eggs plus three pancakes and maple syrup. Layla settled for muesli and a fruit muffin and coffee.

Hayley turned out to be quite charming. She answered most of Layla's questions. She balked a bit at the questions about the future coming across as telegraphing her recognition that her days as President were numbered. On foreign policy issues she seemed to be aware of the close relationship between Australia and the US.  She was hawkish on Russia, North Korea, and China. Overall it was a good interview that had Layla expressing disappointment, on the return trip, that she would probably lose. She organised her notes and planned out the video segment while they waited for their ride to the luncheon meeting with Boston Tyne.

Mal was amused when he had to tell the taxi driver they were going to the Bistrot du Coin. He thought it funny that a millionaire would invite them to a restaurant with coin in the name.
Going inside they found Boston already seated with his PA he introduced simply as Judith. Mal and Layla joined them as Boston rose and pulled Layla's chair out for her to sit beside him leaving Mal to sit opposite. Mal noticed the solid timber tables with turned legs and curve back timber cafe chairs typical of the street cafes in Paris. The tables were covered alternatively with linen table cloths of pink, and pink and white chex. It reminded him of their latest time in Paris which was not a happy memory at all, unfortunately.

Boston began the conversation with introductions and a display of his background check efficiency, as he said that he had chosen a French restaurant because he'd read about their recent trips to Paris due to the unfortunate accidents that had befallen people connected to their After Dark program.

Layla shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she realised Boston probably was aware of her relationship with Carter and probably now, Mal. He had that pervy, "I know what you've been up to Lil lady" look as he glared at her, seeming to enjoy seeing her squirm.

"Now what would you like to know?" he asked as he shifted the bottle of French Rosé referee out of his line of site with Mal. Mal glared back at him.

Layla asked him the agreed on questions over lunch. As she was wrapping up she asked him what he thought about going up against a second Democrat candidate in PJL.

"He's got no hope . . . people don't want a socialist as President. I think Bernie put paid to that idea. I have many more donors and in this town it's like Monopoly . . . whoever has the most money wins. Now on that note I have to go. Send your stuff to Judith and she'll okay it or not. I still don't understand why you Aussies are so interested in US politics. Nothing better to do over there I guess."

"Dickhead!" Mal said under his breath as Boston left the restaurant in an attention-seeking hurry.

Layla looked at his answers on her notepad and shook her head. "The other Democrat better be better than him or we could be in for a topsy-turvy three years on the world stage."

"He's an arsehole if you ask me,"  Mal threw in as they climbed into a taxi.

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