For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend

by Mallory Monroe

  “No, Dutch, we can’t.”

  “Please, Gina,” he begged.

  Gina closed her eyes, fighting back the tears. “I’m not ready yet, Dutch. I can’t. Not yet.”

  Dutch closed his eyes too. He didn’t want to add to her burden, not an ounce more. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t adding to his own.

  And then they both opened their eyes, with Gina wiping away a tear, as they returned their attention to The Wiz. And although Dutch kept his arm around her, and she didn’t pull away, they watched the remainder of the movie in silence.

  The next morning, Gina could hear Walt running up the stairs as she applied her makeup. It was his usual routine before Nanny carted him off to the ultra-private and ultra-expensive Kindergarten he attended. A Kindergarten, Gina was thrilled to know, he loved attending.

  “Hey there, Little Man,” Gina said when he entered her bedroom.

  “You’re putting on face stuff.”

  “That’s right,” she said. She was seated at her dressing table, applying the last of her makeup, when he walked up to her.

  “You have everything you need?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Walt said, leaning over the table.

  “Including the feathers the teacher told you to bring in today?”

  “Yes, ma’am. They’re in my backpack downstairs.”

  “Good boy.” Gina started putting on liquid eyeliner to enhance her naturally long lashes. “Where’s your father? Still downstairs?”

  Walt shook his curly head. “He didn’t come to breakfast today.”

  Gina looked at him. “He didn’t have breakfast with you?”

  Walt shook his head. Gina waited for him to speak it. “No ma’am,” he finally said.

  “Did he phone you?”

  “No ma’am.”

  That was strange, Gina thought. Ever since Dutch moved into the guesthouse, and if he was in town, he’d made it his absolute business to at least have breakfast with his son.

  Then Nanny started calling Walter’s name. “We’re going to be late,” she yelled from downstairs.

  “Gotta go,” Walt said, reached over and kissed his mother on the cheek, and then he took off.

  “Be good!” Gina yelled after him, although he was already well on his way.

  But Dutch was on her mind. Maybe he overslept for a change, she thought with a smile, as she finished dressing and made her way downstairs. She grabbed her briefcase and purse and headed out the front door. Mitchell was waiting to open the backdoor of her SUV. But as she got to the door of the car, she glanced across the estate toward the guesthouses, and thought about Dutch. Just to make certain he was okay, she tossed her briefcase and purse into the vehicle and made her way to the guesthouse Dutch was occupying.

  When there were no response to her knocks on the door, she used her master keycard and entered the house. Like all of their guesthouses, it was luxuriously appointed with modern furniture and a sleek design.

  “Dutch?” she yelled out as she entered. When she got no answer, she went into the bedroom. The bed, to her surprise, had not been slept in. Dutch never would have left his bed this neatly made, and the maid would not have made it out here this early in the morning.

  Now she was worried. Was he upset when she refused his request to have sex with her last night? Had he left the main house after the movie, and went somewhere else? Perhaps to some female friend of his that wouldn’t turn him down? Gina’s heart began to pound as she pulled out her cell phone. She knew, when he moved out, that she was opening their marriage up to other issues. But her philosophy was the same. If he’d stray when they were having problems, that might very well be the problem.

  She exhaled, and waited for him to answer.

  Across town, in his massive office, Dutch cell phone began to ring. He was fast asleep on his office couch, still wearing the suit of clothes he wore yesterday, when he realized his phone was ringing. He reached into his suit coat, pulled it out, and looked at the caller ID. When he saw that it was Gina, he immediately answered.

  “Good morning,” he said with a yawn.

  “Well good morning,” Gina said on the other end. She waited for some explanation or apology for not having breakfast with Walter, but nothing came. “Your son missed you at breakfast this morning.”

  “Yeah, I meant to call him,” Dutch said, running his hand through his thick wad of hair. “Let him know I’ll be there tonight for dinner.”

  “He’s already left for school, but I’ll tell him.” Gina waited again for some kind of an explanation. But again, nothing.

  “Was there anything else?” Dutch asked.

  “No, no,” Gina said. Maybe he didn’t feel that she deserved an explanation. “That was it. I just wanted you to know that Walt was looking for you to be there this morning. But I’ll tell him to expect you tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, have a good day, Dutch.”

  “You too,” Dutch said, and then the phone went dead. He hung up too.

  “Knock knock,” a voice was heard, and Dutch looked up. “May I come in, or would you prefer I return later?” It was Lenora Perry, Dutch’s old friend (and former flame) and his Chief Financial Officer. She was peering through his office door.

  “Come in,” he said still groggily, as he sat on the edge of the couch and began putting on his shoes.

  Lenora walked on in. She was an attractive, voluptuous black woman, with plenty of hips, ass and thighs, and was looking at him intensely as she walked further in. “Everything okay?” she asked him.

  Dutch, however, wasn’t about to discuss his personal life with her. “What did Marville have to say?” he asked her.

  Lenora knew Dutch well enough to know when he was, in essence, telling her to get on with the business at hand. It looked damn crazy for the CEO of Harber Industries to be sleeping in his office, and there was a time he would confide in her about it. But those days were gone. “He said the truckers strike shouldn’t affect inventory, although he couldn’t guarantee it.”

  And they continued with business as usual.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  On a cool Saturday morning, Gina was sitting patiently on Dutch’s private plane. She wore a little black dress, that touched just above her knees, fashionable black shoes with heels that were high but not stilettos, and a polka dot scarf tied gently around her neck. She was just shutting off her cell phone, after a long conversation with Roman Wilkes about one of the more difficult court cases they had to deal with at BBR, when she noticed they were still waiting. She pressed her intercom button on the arm of her chair and asked one of her assistants to go to the cockpit and get the pilot. When the pilot returned to her private cabin, he smiled.

  “Good morning, ma’am, I understand you asked to see me?”

  “Yes, John, I did. And good morning. My question is why are we still on the tarmac? I expected us to lift off fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Right, ma’am, but President Harber hasn’t arrived yet.”

  Gina frowned. “My husband isn’t coming on this trip.”

  That surprised the pilot. “That was not my information, ma’am. I was told to hold the plane until the president arrives.”

  Gina hated when she wasn’t informed. But it wasn’t the pilot’s fault. “Thank-you, John,” she said. “That’ll be all.”

  The pilot tipped his hat and then made his way back to the cockpit. Gina started to phone Dutch and see what was really going on, but she decided to wait. He’d ordered the pilot to wait on him, probably just to tell her goodbye and to contact him if she had any problems, the way he did before. But he could have told her that before she boarded, it seemed to her.

  But she waited. It wasn’t as if John was going to disobey the command of the former commander-in-chief. So she waited. Then, approximately five minutes later, Dutch’s Cadillac Escalade SUV did eventually drive up within the airstrip apron. Dutch hurried out, without waiting for Addison to open his door, and he buttoned his suit coa
t as he made his way across the tarmac.

  Gina looked at him as he came toward the plane. Her heart always squeezed whenever she saw Dutch enter her life space, and this morning was no exception. His hair was wind-blown, his face looked as if it could use fifty hours of sleep, even his suit didn’t look as pristine as it usually looked, but he still felt he had to come and see her off. That was Dutch. She loved him. She would never pretend otherwise. She loved him deeply. But she loved herself too, and she had to decide what kind of marriage she was willing to have with him, and what kind she was not willing to have.

  When Dutch finally boarded the plane, and entered their private cabin, she waited for him to give her his spiel and then head out. But he sat down across from her instead.

  “Good morning,” he said, looking down at the length of her. “You look beautiful. As usual.”

  “Good morning. What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t John tell you? I’m going with you.”

  Gina thought she had misheard him. “You’re going with me? To the funeral?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But. . .” She had a million questions. She didn’t know where to start. “But what about Walter?” she decided to ask first. “I don’t like him being without one of us on the weekend.”

  “He won’t be alone. He’s going to spend the weekend, and part of next week, at Ruth Island with Loretta and Nikki.”

  Nobody was telling Gina anything. “Since when?”

  “Since I decided to come to Georgia with you this morning, and I phoned to see if she could keep Walt for the day. She said she’d love to, and by the way she and the baby were planning to spend several days at their estate in Florida. Since school’s out for Spring Break next week, I thought it would be perfect for Little Walt to go too. To keep Nikki company.”

  “Yes, that would be a good idea. What about Crader? He’s not going with them?”

  “Apparently not,” Dutch said. “It wouldn’t look right for the president to be at his vacation home during so much turmoil in the world. Which is exactly why I thank God I’m not there anymore.”

  Gina could amen that. But then she thought about exactly where they were going. To her brother’s funeral. She looked at Dutch. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him.

  “No,” he said honestly, his green eyes suddenly weary. “I definitely do not want to do this. But I wasn’t about to let you go alone.”

  “Brandy may make a scene, Dutch. She probably doesn’t want me there, so you know she’s not going to want you there. She hates you, you know that.”

  “I understand that,” he said, with a resigned look on his face. He knew it was going to be hell. “But it’s not about her, is it?” he asked.

  Gina exhaled, dreading the entire situation herself. “No,” she said. “It’s not.”

  But somebody forgot to tell Brandy. Gina realized this within minutes of their arrival. There was no preannouncements whatsoever about their attendance, so they were able to walk in while the service was already in progress and sit in the last pew with little disruption. Until one of the ushers realized whom it was that she was sitting, and let out a scream. The entire church turned toward the back. As soon as the funeral-goers realized it was Dutch and Gina in their midst, they stood to their feet, to get a better look, and broke out in raucous applause. It was embarrassing to say the least, but Dutch and Gina were old pros with crowds. They nodded their heads with a smile, waved their hands slightly, and even had to stand up when the applause would not let up. But when they sat back down, and the crowd eventually sat back down, Dutch and Gina both saw Brandy, up front, still standing, and still looking back at them. Then she eventually sat down too.

  The choir in the small Baptist church was singing The Last Mile of the Way as a few parishioners were still upfront viewing the body. Gina could only see an outline of her brother’s head from where she sit, and she knew she had to go up there too, and look at him. This would be the first time she saw him, not on some picture, but in the flesh, and she wasn’t sure if she could bear it. But she knew she had no choice.

  Dutch was paying close attention to her. He saw that body upfront too. And it pained him to think that because of his actions, this would be the first time she laid eyes on her baby brother and he would be in a casket, dead. But when she suddenly stood up and, without warning, began walking toward that casket, Dutch quickly stood up too and walked behind her, as if he, not Mitchell, was her bodyguard. Mitchell and Addison both were in the church, but they were on either side of the building, watching, ready to fire if it came to that.

  But it wasn’t going to come to that. This crowd loved Dutch and Gina. Except, perhaps, for one member of the crowd.

  Gina knew she had to acknowledge Brandy first, although her entire focus was on that casket, but she did stop at the front pew and place her hand on Brandy’s shoulder. Dutch got closer to his wife, in case Brandy tried anything.

  “I know this is difficult for you, Brandy,” Gina whispered to her. “I’m sorry.”

  Brandy wasn’t interested in making nice with Gina Harber right now. But Gina did arrange it so that her brother’s five thousand dollars per month trust fund from Dutch could be transferred to her, which was huge. But she still could only manage to nod at Gina when she spoke those words, as the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down her devastated face.

  Dutch wanted to acknowledge Brandy as well, and offer his condolences, but he knew it would only set the woman off. They did not respect each other and that was all there was to it. There was enough pain in the building. Dutch wasn’t about to add any more.

  He therefore stayed with Gina as she made her way up to the casket and gazed upon her brother for the first time.

  Brandy watched them as they stood at her brother’s casket. She had suspected that Gina might come. She was as devastated as Brandy was when she heard the news. But to have Dutch Harber show up and desecrate her brother’s memory with his sorry presence, was too much.

  But she held her peace. Even as they stood beside his casket looking so superior, with Gina in front and Dutch, his hand on the small of her back as if he was her protector, beside her, she kept it together. It took all she had, but she held her peace.

  Tears began to stream down Gina’s face as she looked at the young man she’d never met before. If he had still been alive she would have said hi to him, and told him that she was his sister, and that she would see to it that his hope was not misplaced. But there would be no such conversation. Because his hope was misplaced. Because the life of this handsome young man never got a chance to blossom. And Gina couldn’t help it. She began to sob. Dutch handed her his handkerchief, and she sobbed into it.

  He also placed his arm around her waist as he, too, felt the sting of her loss. Of her pain. Of his part in her pain.

  For several minutes Gina communed with her brother. Even Brandy was touched by her grief. But Dutch was another story for her. After what he did, after the way he withheld DeAndre from her, Brandy didn’t understand how Gina could let him so much as touch her. And Brandy was staring daggers at Dutch. Mitchell and Addison both felt her hate. Dutch felt it too, as he knew she was determined to make certain he registered every decimal of her hate. And the longer he stood in her presence, the more hate, he knew, she was registering. But Gina was his wife. He didn’t care how Brandy felt about it, he was staying beside his wife.

  But Gina eventually gave her brother a kiss and then made her way back to their seats, with Dutch right behind her. The crowd was applauding them again as they walked to their seats, which made it worse, not better, for her. She didn’t deserve any applause. She did nothing for that young man but dash his hopes. What were they applauding?

  Once they sat down, and the choir stopped singing, the heart of the service began. Numerous people stood up and spoke on behalf of DeAndre, giving great homage to his life, and the preacher preached one of the most uplifting and hopeful sermons Dutch had ever heard. All
about moving on, and living right, and doing everything in our power to be the examples the good Lord wanted us to be.

  But something happened between the sermon and the benediction. Suddenly, Brandy, who had been crying quietly, jumped up from her seat and rushed down the aisle toward Dutch. But just as suddenly, five different men and women, members of the Secret Service nobody knew was even there, jumped up too and blocked her progression toward the former president. They restrained her from going any further. But they couldn’t restrain her mouth.

  “Get out of my brother’s sight!” she screamed at Dutch above the agents’ arms and elbows. “You don’t deserve to be in his presence! You said he didn’t exist while he was alive. He was invisible to you. A nobody. A thug nobody could love! You hated him so much that you wouldn’t claim him. So you can’t claim him now! Get out of my brother’s sight! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  Then she broke down in tears.

  Many members of the audience, including the pastor, hurried to Brandy to put her back in her seat. Others members just stood there, or sat there, stunned by her display. And all eyes were on Dutch. Gina looked at him too. He continued to look forward. He continued to maintain the cool dignity he was known for. But he wasn’t fooling Gina. He was devastated.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Gina woke up Monday morning after a fitful night’s sleep. The weekend had been like a blur to her after a funeral that was so painful she could hardly speak about it. Dutch held her during their entire trip back, and she appreciated him being there for her, but when they arrived back at home she needed to be alone. To her surprise, Dutch seemed to instinctively understand that and didn’t ask to stay the night. After Brandy’s outburst, he probably needed some time alone too. She didn’t see or hear from him at all on Sunday.