Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2)

by Lesli Richardson

  Hasn’t stopped her from trying to find workarounds multiple times a week.

  I also find myself the personal recipient of an increasing number of overtures. A few times, I accept dinner invitations, from women and men, including sometimes when Leo can also go and sit a few tables away. There are times the people make the ask very blatant, overt, meaning it’s easy to deflect.

  Sometimes, it’s far more insidious, carefully masked by invitations to other events and to meet other people.

  Most of them are garden-variety lobbyists for special interests.

  Then…

  There’s The Family. Or The Fellowship. Or whatever name they want to call themselves on any given day. Frequent invitations to attend prayer sessions or prayer breakfasts cross my plate, and I’ve become adept at dodging those, too. Fortunately, I can use my official job duties and strenuous schedule as a ready excuse for missing those.

  Unfortunately, it’s those very job duties that have painted a very large target on my back from people looking to gain inroads with Elliot.

  Then, there’s Representative Grace Martin. Apparently, she’s realized that the only way for her to get to Elliot is through me, and I’ve received overtures from her, as well.

  Terrific. Just what I wanted, more aggravation.

  But as we make our way into October, I manage to fend most of them off. I only accept the invites Leo instructs me to, just enough to keep from raising any suspicions about me. Our campaign schedule is pretty steady, so saying I already have a full day isn’t that much of a stretch.

  Another benefit of me being younger than Elliot and Leo is I can keep up with the two of them. Leo and Elliot both have pain days, and sometimes I find myself running from one to the other, especially if Leo’s in too much pain to leave his apartment. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen very often.

  Before my departure, there were maybe ten days over all our years together when Leo had to call off work because he literally couldn’t move. On those days, I would usually call in sick and stay home to take care of him. Or I’d go in for a few hours, long enough to get what I needed to work from home, and then return.

  Since my return, Leo’s had two high-pain days that were bad enough he had to call off work. On those days, since Elliot didn’t have to be anywhere, he practically ordered me to go take care of Leo. I know it rips him up inside that he can’t be the one to take care of Leo, but I always refocus him and remind him of the bigger picture.

  Although I also keep those situations in mind, to hopefully leverage Elliot into marrying Leo at some future point. Unfortunately, I know it won’t happen before the election. Leo would most likely order me not to manipulate Elliot, I’m sure, but it’s an option I’m keeping open.

  Because I will get my two chuckleheads hitched. If they’re together, we can all be together and have our happily ever after.

  Something tells me it won’t be easy. All three of us seem to be in the habit of getting in our own ways and screwing things up, even when we don’t mean to, although we’ve been getting better about that lately.

  Is it weird that the longer things seem to go smoothly, the more paranoid I become about looking for other shoes to drop?

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Late in September, an early cold front sweeps through the DC area. When I awaken the next morning, I feel a sharp bite in the air that makes me shiver once I climb out of bed. I knew the temperatures would drop overnight, but I didn’t expect it to feel this chilly inside the house, or I would have adjusted the thermostat before bed.

  I pull on Elliot’s robe and, after using the bathroom, I bump the thermostat warmer by a couple of degrees before I make our coffee. On my way downstairs, I peek outside and see it’s raining, the cold outside beating against the glass in the window and trying to pierce through it. One of those days that makes you wish you could call in sick and stay in bed all day.

  Especially if you have someone as cute as Elliot to stay in bed with.

  Thank goodness Elliot isn’t going anywhere today except to the White House. He’s handling calls and meetings on-site and playing catch-up before we crank up the weekend appearance schedule tomorrow. Otherwise, I’d be worried about Elliot’s pain levels. Days like this can make him brutally ache, and he’s bad about downplaying his true pain levels. Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, though. Once I have our coffee ready, I carry the mugs upstairs, set them on the nightstand next to him, and round the bed.

  I’m slipping back under the covers when my personal phone vibrates on my nightstand. I immediately grab it and answer, because I recognize the custom vibration pattern I created for Leo.

  I hurry into the bathroom to answer it. “Good morning, Sir.” I keep my voice down so Elliot doesn’t startle awake.

  “Good morning, boy.” He sounds like shit. “Sorry to call you so early, but I have a favor to ask.”

  My pulse races, because something is seriously wrong. Leo would rather chop off an arm than ask for a favor for himself. “What’s the matter? What happened? Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m in massive pain and I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to make it downstairs. The president has a trip to Pittsburgh today to give a speech. There and back, a turn and burn. Can you cover for me and staff her today?”

  I’m still stuck on the fact that he’s hurting. Since I’m frantically trying to mentally readjust my schedule so I can go take care of him, his request knocks me off my game. “Me?”

  “No is a perfectly acceptable answer, Jor.”

  Oh, shit. He’s using my name, meaning he’s asking me as an equal, not as my Sir.

  Meaning, once again, he’s trying to put himself last. Refusing to “force” me to do something.

  Did I mention how infuriatingly stubborn he can sometimes be about putting himself last?

  I hear him groan, probably shifting position in bed. I wish I was there with him right now so I could take care of him. “It’s an easy day. Shadow her, let her practice the speech with you on Air Force One, and keep other people away from her unless she specifically asks to talk to them, or they need to speak with her because of NatSec, or something. Don’t let her nuke the little fucker. Put coffee in her hand this morning, keep her hydrated, make sure she eats, get her to Marine One on time. You’ll be back by seven tonight. If you can’t do it, I’ll call Kev and see if he can pull someone else to go. Chris has to be at the kids’ school today, or I’d have called him. Kev has meetings he can’t cancel.”

  Wow. I’ve never staffed POTUS before. Not like this. I’ve been in attendance and helping Leo, or Kev, or Chris, but I’ve never been her primary body man. Not even during the re-election campaign.

  “If your worry is you aren’t sure what to do,” he adds, “don’t worry. You’ll be fine. And you can call or text me with questions, so…bonus.”

  I take a deep breath. He does not sound good, and I’m fighting the urge to basically take over and dictate how this will play out, and it’s not the way he’s saying it will. “Who’s taking care of you today, Sir?”

  Another pained groan. “I’ve already taken ibuprofen and I have the heating pad. I’m going to soak in a tub full of hot water and Epsom salts and see if I can loosen up some. If I feel I can make it downstairs and back up again later, I’ll call for a ride from the detail and staff Elliot for you. I’ll text you a shopping list, if you don’t mind running to the store for me. I just need a few things.”

  “Okay, sure. Like what?”

  “Like Epsom salts, for starters. I thought I still had some, but I’m out. Guess I need a keeper after all, baby.” He chuckles, or tries to. Doesn’t fool me, though—he’s in massive pain.

  And I was his keeper. It was something he joked about plenty of times when he was feeling vulnerable like this.

  Whelp. Dammit. I’m hating myself, because I should be there, with him, taking care of him, making sure he always has everything he might need on hand. My morning just went sideways, meaning Elliot’
s day won’t go well, because he’ll be worried about Leo and won’t have me there to keep him focused.

  I can’t exactly fudge about this to him, either. It’s a game of dominoes, government staffing style. “Please stay home, Sir. The boy will be fine, and I’ll go to the store for you before I head in to work.”

  “Is that a yes to staffing POTUS for me?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I hope I don’t regret this. “I’ll staff her for you.”

  He sighs with relief. “Thank you, baby boy. I’ll tell Kev about the change so he can amend the travel roster. Just see him when you get to work. I’ll text you the shopping list in a few minutes.”

  “Yes, Sir. Are you sure you don’t want me to come take you to the doctor?” I already know the answer, but it’s the same question I always ask.

  “No, I’ll be fine, baby, but thank you. All they’ll want to do is shoot me full of painkillers, and you know I hate those.” He grunts, probably changing positions. “Is the pet awake yet?”

  “No, Sir. I just came upstairs with our coffee and was going to do that.”

  “Sorry. I thought I timed it better than that.” Of course I keep him posted on Elliot’s daily schedule, the private version that includes the little things like morning routines. It’s a way to keep Leo looped in and not feeling excluded.

  “Hold on, Sir. I’ll let you wake him up.”

  I can’t tell if that’s a sigh, or Leo’s choked up, but I choose to give him his dignity right now. “Thank you, baby boy.”

  “Let me put it in speaker mode.” I do, and carry the phone over to our bed. There, I slip in, smiling as Elliot naturally cuddles against me. I wrap my arms around him, kissing his forehead. “Good morning, boy.”

  Elliot makes his usual series of adorable, grunty snorts, followed by a soft moan. “Good morning, Sir.”

  “Good morning, pet.”

  His eyes pop open. “Master?”

  I hold up the phone. “Let him tell you what’s going on.” I hand Elliot the phone and kiss him. “Coffee’s there.” I point to his nightstand before I climb out of bed and try to reclaim lost time. Yeah, I’d love to sit there talking to Leo on the phone, but I can’t. Elliot thrives on routine, and we’re too busy right now to let him stumble all over himself.

  We’re now behind schedule and getting more behind by the minute. I’ll have to send Elliot out the door with the detail while I head to the store for Leo. I think in this case I can get away with asking for a driver, since I have to staff POTUS, too. I’ll tell the truth, that I had to go to the store for Leo and talk to him in person about her routine.

  Besides, the detail all knows Leo, either from working with him before, or now. No one will begrudge me this or raise a stink about it. It’s not like we abuse the privilege, or treat them like our personal taxi service.

  I grab my coffee and head to the closet to get Elliot’s clothes laid out. Last night I was so tired I decided to leave that task for this morning. At least today I can wear a necktie to be matchies with Elliot, because we won’t be together for most of the day.

  He’s still talking to Leo when I go to retrieve my clothes from the other room and mess up my bed.

  In my wildest fantasies? When Elliot’s out of office we have a home of our own, and a closet large enough to hold all our damn clothes, so I don’t have to walk to another room to get mine.

  I won’t cook Elliot breakfast this morning. Instead, I’ll nuke a couple of the frozen quiche muffins that I keep on hand for a quick meal on the run.

  Like today.

  That way, I know he’s got decent food in his stomach.

  Fortunately, I’d planned for him to do his workout this evening, not this morning, so that can still happen later.

  I return to the master bedroom and lay everything out. “I need to get the pet bathed and dressed, Sir,” I call out.

  Okay, so Elliot’s wearing a sweet, happy smile right now. I can chill on the irritation over the schedule borking, I suppose. I feel badly that Leo’s in pain, but he’s made Elliot’s morning by getting to talk to him like this, without worries of anyone overhearing besides me.

  It must suck to live locked in by such fear.

  “Sorry, for dumping all of this on you today, baby boy,” Leo says. “Please kiss the pet for me.”

  “Yes, Sir. Will do.”

  “And pet?”

  Elliot perks up. He’s sitting up and sipping his coffee. “Yes, Master?”

  “Kiss the boy for me, please. Don’t give him a hard time this morning.”

  Our gazes lock. “I’ll kiss him for you, Master. And I promise not to give him a hard time, although I don’t promise to not leave him hard.”

  He chuckles. “Good boy. Love you both.”

  “Love you,” we say in unison.

  “I’ll text you the list,” Leo adds. Then he ends the call.

  I take my phone from Elliot and we share another good-morning kiss that threatens to send us back to bed. This was an unexpected interlude. While I feel badly Leo’s in pain, I’ll never turn down a chance to kiss Elliot.

  Finally, I sit back. “You heard him, pet. Let’s get moving.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “How’s your pain levels?” I ask as I take his coffee from him so he can get out of bed.

  “A little achy, but I’ve had way worse. I’ll be fine. Please, go take care of him.”

  With Elliot, I have to listen to his voice, to see if it sounds tighter than usual. To the noises he makes getting out of bed, and how he moves. The way the lines around his eyes and mouth look. Those things always tell me the truth about his pain levels.

  He seems to be telling me the truth today.

  By the time we’re out of the shower, Leo’s texted me the list, and I manage to get Elliot out the door almost five minutes ahead of schedule.

  I’m out the door minutes later and heading to the store. Thank goodness for the driver. Having him waiting for me at the curb when I come out of the store with my arms loaded makes my life easy.

  Although I won’t be able to spend much time with Leo this morning. The driver parks in the fire lane in front of the building, and I quickly make my way inside and race upstairs with my purchases. I included a few extra things that weren’t on his list, like his favorite ice cream and some healthy frozen dinners he can easily nuke.

  If I can’t stay and cook for him, at least I can make his life a little easier in that way.

  I have to set bags down to unlock the door, and it takes me a moment to get inside, reset the alarm, bring everything in, and lock the door behind me.

  “I’m here, Sir,” I call out as I race to the kitchen.

  “I’m in here,” he calls back.

  I see his mug sitting in the sink, from yesterday, and I quickly wash it out and brew a cup for him before I start putting everything away. I bought extra Epsom salts, so he won’t run out anytime soon, including a couple of packages that have extra additives, like rosemary and peppermint, to help with pain levels even more.

  I grab all that and take it into the bathroom and put it away, then get his coffee and carry it into the bedroom.

  He looks like shit. I set the mug on the nightstand, kick off my shoes, and climb into bed, blazer and all, to kiss him good morning and hold him for a minute.

  “Thank you, baby boy. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

  “Shut up, Sir.” I press my face against his hair and deeply inhale. “This wouldn’t be an issue if you and Elliot were married, you know.”

  “We’ve had this discussion, Jordan. I’m not forcing him to come out and marry me.”

  “Just putting it out there.” I lift my head and look into his eyes. “Can I help you into the bathroom?”

  “No, I’ll make it that far. Thank you for making coffee.”

  “You’re welcome.” I kiss him again. “There are frozen dinners in the freezer. And got your coffee ice cream.”

  His smile looks drawn, full of pain. “You take good care of m
e, baby.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish I could stay here today and take care of you.” I do help him up out of bed, mostly so I can hug him one last time. “Use the pain cream. Don’t forget to put gloves on this time when you apply it.” It has capsaicin in it.

  He smirks. “Oh, I will never forget to do that again.”

  “I’d hope not.” He learned having that stuff on your hands and then taking a leak gets kind of painful really fast.

  I give him a last kiss good-bye and let myself out.

  All the way down the stairs, I remind myself of the greater good—Elliot needs me.

  And the country needs Elliot.

  * * * *

  I’m a nervous wreck, but President Samuels is, as always, gracious and kind to me and does her best to put me at ease.

  It helps that she knows who Leo is to me and Elliot, and that I know who Kev is to her and her husband.

  Makes us conspirators, in a way.

  The easiest way for me to settle in is to remind myself that this is a preview of what my job will be in a little over a year, and that it gives me a valuable opportunity to learn.

  To practice.

  Before we leave for the trip, I stop by Elliot’s office to get a quick kiss from him. “Unless something changes, I’ll return here tonight and we’ll head out together,” I tell him.

  “I want you to check on Master tonight. Please? Stay with him all night, if he needs it.”

  “I will, buddy. After I get you home.” I run a hand through his hair as he stares up at me from his chair. Fucking handsome guy. Both of them are. Spending the rest of my life with them isn’t a hardship, that’s for damned sure.

  Thoughts that are a far cry from where my mind was last year.

  Everything’s a far cry from where I was this time last year.

  Thankfully.

  My plan is to, hopefully, get Elliot home and settled and then head to Leo’s and possibly spend the night there with him, if he needs me.

  I make it through the morning with my nerves mostly intact. It’s difficult for me to believe that the president of the United States is practicing her speech with me on Air Force One.