He continued on to the Executive Offices trying to make some sense out of what was happening. He was also disturbed by the gnawing feeling that something was different about the President. He couldn’t identify what, only that it didn’t feel right.
* * *
Terry Templeton felt a sense of relief while riding up the elevator that his stint at the White House had come to an end. Future impersonations of the President would, once again, be at Le Club.
They rode the elevator in silence. Terry assumed that the First Lady was contemplating the intrusion of Dante Petrocelli, for whatever significance it had. Inside the room he drew himself out of the wheel chair and went to the bathroom to remove his make-up.
He tried to allay his anxiety that somehow was related to acting as an impostor. Because
