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you say, and yes, even what you wear, are going to be scrutinized, dissected, and discussed. Rejecting the official title isn’t going to change that.”
    “I won’t be a puppet on a string for you or the country. Granted, there will be a huge focus on my actions for a while, but I think as time passes, the interest in me will begin to wane and the media will move on to juicier and more relevant issues.
    “I hope you know that if I did go along with you, it would kill me. My body would keep moving and I’d still smile and respond, but I’d be dead inside. I’d be like a Stepford First Lady.”
    Michael let the silence hang in the air. It didn’t seem to matter what he said; he and Ashley didn’t want the same thing. He sighed. “Your decision has the potential to cripple me in being able to effect real and positive change. Plus, you’ve just given the opposition a weapon to use against us. Isn’t any kind of compromise possible?”
    “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Being the director of the Cameron Museum of Art is as important to me as becoming president is to you. It’s a huge responsibility, and I love every minute of it. I don’t want to leave my work. We each have jobs we love—granted yours is a whopper—but at the end of the day, I’d still like us to find a way to remain a family.”
    Michael wanted that too, but for the time being, they were talked out. What else was there left to say?

6
    Ashley was being pursued by a dozen men on horseback. She could hear the horses’ hooves pounding on the solid, bone-dry earth, an indication they were getting closer. If they found her . . . She could hear the church bells beckoning from a distance. She ran toward the sound, hoping to make it to the unseen sanctuary before being captured. She didn’t want to die.
    She felt a hand on her shoulder gently shaking her, “Ashley, turn off the alarm.”
    “Hmm . . . um . . . ’kay.”
    As her dream world receded, reality began to take shape more clearly. She wasn’t a morning person, period. She always needed awhile to shake off her somnolent state. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone get up and walk around. Her first word in the morning was almost always “coffee.”
    Michael shook her again. “Come on, sleepyhead. Up and at ’em. You’ll go back to sleep if you don’t get up now. It’s a beautiful day.”
    Michael was the definitive morning person, the kind you wanted to hate but would feel small for doing so. He awoke rested and ready for what the day had to offer. Ashley thought it was unholy to wake up so cheerful, only because her internal clock swung in another direction.
    She rolled onto her side, pushed herself up into a sitting position, swept her hair out of her eyes, and looked down at the floor and her legs. Again, she wondered what crazed person had set the barbaric, yet generally accepted, work day hours. She looked over at Michael, who was already dressed. He looked like every woman’s idea of the perfect man, strikingly handsome while exuding a powerful masculinity. He was everything she’d ever wanted, the love of her life.
    Ashley finally stood and dressed for a day that would most definitely leave its mark on her, Michael, and history. She chose a rich teal silk pantsuit with a mandarin collar and large black frog closures down the front of the jacket. The rich color was bound to improve her mood. She’d always loved unusual, vintage, and distinctive clothing. The artful designs in the items she chose never failed to boost her spirits.
    A knock at the door indicated the twins had arrived. Ashley opened the door with a dramatic bow as Jeremy sauntered past with Juliette bringing up the rear. Jeremy pretended he didn’t see his mother until he turned and grabbed her, lifting her off her feet while giving her a bear hug. Juliette waited until Jeremy was through with his antics to give her mother a peck on the cheek.
    Jeremy was a force to be reckoned with.