Zero Game - Brad Meltzer [51]
“Hey, Dinah,” Viv began, careful to keep her voice low and smooth, “this is Sandy over in the personal office. I’m sorry to bother you, but the Congressman wanted to take a look at some of Matthew’s project books, just to make sure he’s up to speed for Conference . . .”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Dinah blurted.
“Pardon?”
“It’s just . . . the information in there . . . It’s not smart to let that wander outside the office.”
Harris had warned her this might happen. That was why he gave her the ultimate comeback.
“The Congressman wants them,” Viv insisted.
There was a short pause on the other line. “I’ll get them ready,” Dinah eventually said.
Over Viv’s shoulder, the door on her right opened, and the young receptionist reentered the room.
“Great,” Viv stuttered. “I-I’ll send someone down to pick ’em up.”
Hanging up the phone, Viv turned back to the main reception desk. “Oops on me—wrong room,” Viv said to the receptionist as she headed for the door.
“Don’t worry,” he replied. “No harm done.”
Refusing to wait for the elevator, Viv ran down the four flights of stairs, eventually jumping down the last two steps and landing with a smack against the polished floor in the basement of the Rayburn Building. On average, a Senate page walked seven miles of hallway each day, picking up and delivering packages. On a typical day, those seven miles could take them from the hearing room where Nixon was impeached during Watergate, past the old Supreme Court chamber, where the Court first decided the Dred Scott case, to the west front of the Capitol, where every new President takes the oath of office, to the center of the enormous rotunda—underneath the vaulted majesty of the Capitol dome—where the bodies of both Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy once lay in state. Viv saw it every single day. But she hadn’t been this excited since her first day on the job.
Still unsure if it was thrill or fear, she didn’t let it slow her down. As her heart jabbed against her chest and she whipped around the corner of the ghostly white hallway, Viv Parker was done shuffling mail and finally doing what the page program had originally promised—making an actual difference in someone’s life.
Sliding to a stop in front of room B-308, she felt more than just her momentum come to a halt. This was still Matthew’s office—and if she wasn’t careful, she’d never be able to pull it off. As she reached out to grab the doorknob, she checked the hall, just as Harris had instructed. On her left, the door to a utility closet peeked open, but as far as she could tell, no one was inside. On her right, the hallway was empty.
Holding her breath, she twisted the brass knob, surprised by how cold it was. As she shoved her weight against the door, the first thing she heard was the ringing phone—on her left, past the Sioux quilt. Again, just like Harris said.
Following the ring, beyond the overflowing In and Out boxes on the edge of the desk, Viv turned the corner and was hit with a sudden sense of relief when she realized that the receptionist was black. Without a word, Roxanne glanced up at Viv, studied her ID, and gave her a slight, unmistakable nod. Viv had been on the receiving end of that one at least a dozen times before. From the cafeteria ladies . . . from one of the elevator operators . . . even from Congresswoman Peters.
“Whatcha need, doll?” Roxanne asked with a warm smile.
“Just here to pick up some briefing books.” When Harris first told Viv about this, she was worried that someone would wonder why a Senate page was making a pickup in the House. Roxanne didn’t even take a second glance. Forget what it says on the nametag—even to receptionists, a page is a page.
“Is Dinah . . . ?”
“Right through the door,” Roxanne said, pointing Viv toward the back.
Viv headed for the door, and Roxanne