Page 16 - GoldenOne

GoldenOne
Mia wanted them gone, so she could return to her duties, passing around delectable hors d’oeuvres.
Robert Mercer was seated behind his historically significant oak desk, as his cool, blue-gray eyes surveyed the portly, ill-looking Steve Bannon, who stared back through watery, rheumy eyes like some old hound dog.
Robert Mercer spoke very quietly, choosing each word as he went, as if he were measuring the distance between words to gain maximum impact.
Steve Bannon shifted his cumbersome body in his chair. Mercer looked at him with no expression, even though, in his mind, he had little respect for such an intelligent, though crazed man who appeared to lack all discipline when it came to his personal appearance.
“Steve, I am not one of your useful ‘deplorables’ that can be continuously duped and hoodwinked.”
Mia felt something at her ankles. She knew it was the soft fur of a cat. Mia prayed the cat would leave her. “Oh, please leave me alone. Please, please go away.” She dug her nails into her palms, squeezed her eyes shut, and stood very still. Her prayer was answered. She felt the cat brush past her leg and then heard the cat exit the curtain and leap somewhere. It must have been into Mercer’s lap.
Mia imagined him stroking the cat, as Mercer began speaking in a steel-like tone. “You told me that you could control him. But you have been thrown out of the White House in the most humiliating fashion, ensuring that you have no dignity left. Think of it, all honor and self-respect ripped
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