Hanna Page was his only grandchild; her dream was to run her granddad’s station.Carleton Page knew he would be out of a job and the station closed i... he sold out; the last locally owned station gone. He did work out contracts to sell news stories to the major networks.Hanna did manage to work in questions on my health; she had caught on quickly to the ways of the White House media teams from the few short times she had been there.A one minute cut of Hanna’s story was carried by the major. His eyes, a darkish blue, stared out from all that hair. Not bad! Not bad at all, he thought, for a fifty-one-year-old bloke who’d never married. He combed his hair, and tied it back in a pony tail, then combed the beard, which almost reached his lower chest. He slipped on a pair of Levi’s that he loved, because not only did they hug his butt tightly, but were comfortable on his bike. As it was hot, he put on a loose white shirt, and buttoned it up, leaving the top three buttons open – he hated. More

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