He thinks on that, looking a little relieved. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Here, I’ll help. Let’s take it up a notch.”
I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead, with a smirk he breaks hold and walks over to Marisol and Henry and cuts in, taking her hand and dancing with her. I see a little red as his hands settle on her body.
What in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks does he think he’s doing?
But before I can get mad, Henry asks me to dance. I’m forced to smile at him nicely, “Sure.”
As we get into hold, Lyncoln winks at me and I know exactly what he is up to. He knows Henry still has feelings for me and is playing on that right now. Part of me is irritated. What a rude thing to do, especially in public and with cabinet members present that will remember Henry and I were once a thing. But part of me knows I’m just as guilty because I was the one all over Lyncoln just a second ago trying to prove the same point.
“Congratulations,” I smile at Henry and ignore Lyncoln, who is barely containing his laughter at my reaction.
He shrugs and takes a deep breath. “Thanks.”
He looks at me with his emerald eyes and we both know there are things the other wants to say. He finally sighs, his bowtie flopping in defeat. “Out with it, Reagan.”
While I think a moment, he twirls me around and brings me back in. Henry always has been an amazing dancer. Lyncoln is too, but Henry is more graceful and Lyncoln is just more aggressive, like he is with all things. Other than maybe tonight, Lyncoln and I usually dance like we are going to battle. Henry and I dance like we are telling a story.
I smile, finally knowing what I want to say. “Henry Louis Maxwell, I know you. I know if you win this, you’ll marry that girl and not ever stray because that is the type of man you are. You deserve so very much more than that,” I pause and search his eyes. For what, I’m not sure. “So much more.”
He shrugs. “She’s not all bad.”
“No, but you shouldn’t have to propose to someone you wouldn’t marry otherwise. And you shouldn’t propose to her just because she ‘isn’t all bad’,” I argue. “Don’t settle.”
Annnd now I’ve officially turned into my mother.
“It’s happened before with the presidency and I’m sure it’ll happen again.” He shrugs again, indifferent.
I shake my head before he’s even done speaking. “That doesn’t make it okay, Henry. I don’t hate her anymore either, for the record. I just care about you and want you to be happy. I want you to propose to someone, but not to the girl you think you maybe might be able to live with one day. I want you to propose to the girl you can’t live without.”
He sighs. “I thought I had found that girl, but it turns out I didn’t.” He tries not to say it bitterly and fails.
Now it’s my turn to sigh. “I’m truly sorry, Henry.”
He nods and smiles at me affectionately. “I know. It isn’t your fault, beautiful.”
Yes, it is. “Do you still want to be President?”
He is taken back by my bluntness with that question. “I honestly don’t know. If I don’t have you and I don’t have politics, I don’t even know who I really am anymore. So yeah, sometimes.” He shrugs. “More now than when her dad was running the show. I mean, I still want to preserve Dad’s legacy. I still think I’d be an okay president.”
Absolutely flat-out refusing to see him as the competition or an enemy, I instead force myself to smile. “Yes, you would be. And I know who you are. You’re the man that wants to do military training and read zombie literature in your off time. I’m not saying that because I don’t want you to compete for the presidency against us. If you really want it, by all means, go for it. I’m just reminding you of what you once said to me at a simpler time. Politics isn’t all you have left. You have the military too.” I giggle. “And zombies.”
This makes him laugh and for the first time in what feels like months, I see the dimples that used to frequent his face. “Good point. And I haven’t read any good zombie books in forever. I should do that.”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Just tell me, why did you do it now? Why now, when her dad is gone, and his following are finally locked up?” I ask the question Lyncoln and I have been asking ourselves all day about this whole ordeal.
He spins me again and sighs again. “I should start by saying I still think you and Lyncoln will win. You guys are a more powerful couple, but she does have a point about making sure everyone knows that the bad blood is over. It needs to be. And if a ring on her finger shows the country that, then so be it. If I have to marry her to prove it, then so be it. I really do think we could accomplish some good together, Reagan. She isn’t her father.”
Typical Henry. Sacrificing his happiness for the good of the country. And with both of them now competing for themselves instead of for Hadenfelt, we have our work cut out for us if we are going to win this thing.
****
A half an hour later, we finally make it to the elevator. I lean down to take my heels off.
“I am never, ever, ever wearing heels again,” I groan aloud.
Sarge smiles. “I can’t wait for you to tell Frank that piece of information.”
“Seriously! It’s madness. These things are like walking on daggers,” I say dramatically.
“I don’t doubt it.” Sarge gives a whistle when I hand him one and he sees just how tall the heels are.
“One of these times, I am going to make all of you wear heels, and I will comfortably wear my tennis shoes,” I say happily. “Then you’ll all know what it feels like to be a woman in the Culling.”
“Sweetheart, there is nothing you could do to make me put on a pair of those,” Lyncoln says playfully as he loosens his red tie.
I glare at him and squint, pretending to be mad but trying to flirt. “We’ll see about that, sir.”
He smirks, and I see his eyes go slightly predatory, slightly annoyed at my use of the word “sir” again. One of these times I need to stop tempting the caged animal. The animal needs to stay caged for a while yet. I think.
The elevator doors open, and we walk down the hallway. I see more guards than usual posted outside my door and wonder immediately what’s up. Surely I don’t need that many more guards added to my security detail as a final two couple?
“What’s going on? Who are they?” I ask confused.
Sarge, Rodgers, and Lyncoln are all smiling conspiratorially and looking at one another obviously in on some big secret. I am annoyed, not because they are smiling, but because I am the lone ranger not in on this secret, which is obviously something good.
“Don’t just stand there smiling at me like idiots,” I command. “What is this?”
“So bossy,” Lyncoln looks at me amused. “Open the door.”
I glare at him, not moving.
“Open the damn door, Reagan,” he orders with a half-smile.
I roll my eyes but do as he commands. Judging by the others, I should like what I find on the other side.
I open the door and step in, to immediately be bombarded in the doorway with a furry face in my hands as he wags his tail and runs circles around me.
“Shepp?!” I exclaim. “What on earth are you doing here, sweet boy?” I crouch to his level and he sneaks a lick to my face before I can calm him down by scratching behind his ears.
As I turn the corner of my bedroom, I find Frank and Gertie chatting away with my family on my couch and chairs.
My family!
They look up to find me standing there with my jaw open in confusion and my eyes huge in shock. I can’t even form words.
“Oh, hi, honey. You look lovely,” Mom smiles, coming over to give me a hug. Ashton gives me a nod with a little sarcastic salute and dad just waves like a goober.
Holy crap, is this real life? They’re here? Why are they here already? I mean, I know in making it to the final two they get to come to Denver, but the results were a few hours ago. How are they already here?
Da
ng. That was fast.
“Mom?” I ask confused.
“Oh. You’re probably wondering how we got here so fast.” She doesn’t hesitate to get right to it. “Lyncoln brought us back with him on Wednesday night. We couldn’t be seen without questions until you officially made the final two, which we all knew was probably going to happen, so Frank and Gertie have been gracious enough to keep us occupied and hid away until the results,” she explains as if it is the most obvious explanation in the history of the world.
“Oh,” is all I can manage to say. I have no words for what I feel.
I turn and look to Lyncoln and try to convey everything I am feeling in one look. Gratitude. Admiration. Appreciation. And I want to freaking kiss his face right off.
“And what would have happened if we would have lost tonight?” I ask him.
He half-smiles at me as if annoyed I would even ask that question. “We weren’t losing tonight. I convinced Taggert they were safer here after what went on with Hadenfelt. Had him halfway convinced to keep them here regardless of the results, but I knew we had it in the bag anyway.” He smirks, looking at me with those confident and intense blue-brown eyes, and then gives me a wink.
My goodness, that man is perfection. He protected my family and then brought them to me. May have even brought them to me without a final two finish. “You even brought Shepp?”
Lyncoln shrugs as he reaches down to pet the furry animal. “He’s family. And I kind of like him.”
Ashton buts in, “But Shepp is staying with me and don’t you dare fight me on it, Ms. Scott.” He says my name with thick sarcasm and then rubs his hands together. “Now. Who’s ready for cards?”
“I’m in.” Lyncoln nods and takes off his tie and jacket, sitting down in a chair next to Ashton on the couch and begins shuffling the cards.
And just like that, my life is complete and my heart might literally explode.
Chapter 26
That weekend will always rank as one of the best weekends of my life. Spending time with my parents and getting to celebrate what Lyncoln and I have accomplished while watching them fall in love with him was more than I ever could have asked for. There was lots of card playing, lots of eating, and of course, lots of laughing. Lyncoln fits in with my family like a missing piece of the puzzle. It makes me think of how fun it will be when Ashton finally picks a woman.
Sunday my parents got to meet the President and by default Henry. Since my mom knew what was going on with my feelings for the both of them, it was a bit awkward, but she did at least try to contain her nosiness. Shepp helped with that too, as both Henry and the President really liked him.
For dinner Sunday, Lyncoln’s family and my family all had a meal together. Although I was terribly nervous, it could not have gone any better. My dad and Wyatt are new best friends. Wyatt and Shepp too.
Frank and Gertie get me ready to go as usual on Monday morning. My work is not done here, and although I would love to just spend time with Lyncoln and my family, I still need to keep my focus. We have an interview tonight, a Christmas Eve ball on Thursday that will be broadcast, and another interview on Friday, which is Christmas Day. It’s crunch time.
In less than two weeks, I will either be the new Madam President or will be trying to figure out my new role and career in Denver with the rest of my family. If that doesn’t give you the willies, I don’t know what will! It’s fair to say the next two weeks will determine the way the rest of my life goes. It’s a big, big deal. I have to continue to work hard up to the very end. As we say in Omaha, “She ain’t over ‘til she’s over.”
“Thank you, Gertie,” I smile at her as they finish up. I’m wearing a skirt suit even though I’m going over to DIA because Dougall insisted upon it. I think at this point it’s safe to say my days of wearing gear are over.
“No problem!” she says cheerfully.
I smile. “I mean thank you for getting me ready too, but thank you for hanging out with my family this weekend. They adore you guys as much as I do. I know you have your own family and it meant a lot to me that you showed up.”
They were in and out, came and hung out with us all on Saturday morning and a little on Sunday afternoon too. I’m just amazed at the quality of people I have in my attendants. They are a part of my family. Before my family got here, they were my family. Between my guards and my attendants, I am always well taken care of.
“It was our pleasure, dear.”
As she opens the door to leave, Lyncoln is at the door coming in, ready to go and looking mad about wearing a suit.
I bite back my laughter of how irritated he seems about it. “I don’t like it either, you know.”
“Don’t like what?” he asks confused.
I gesture to my skirt. “The suit thing for DIA.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “I suppose I better get used to it.”
I smirk. “Me, too.”
“I will miss seeing you in gear though,” he grins. “You’re a force of nature in that stuff.”
****
“So,” Elle begins with a smile. “We would like the inauguration to be on the first. The start of a new year, the start of a new Presidential Couple.”
We are in a meeting at DIA with Dougall and Elle, who will basically be stalking us to whichever location we are at from here on out. And the inauguration date isn’t new news. When the voting schedule came out, it was basically designed around the fact that they wanted the new couple inaugurated on January 1st.
“Now. Since both couples are engaged, we’ve also added that we would like to televise your weddings should you win, right before your inauguration,” Dougall says hesitantly, waiting for our reaction.
So I could be a married woman in two weeks. I knew that was probable, but her confirming it makes it that much more real. Wowzas!
“Excuse me?” Lyncoln asks surprised with his eyebrows high.
Dougall smiles sympathetically, “Look, I know you two like to keep some things private, and I get that. But, everyone is expecting this. Heck, everyone loves you guys and wants to see you get married and take over the country. You had to know it would at least be televised.”
I squeeze Lyncoln’s knee and smile at her. “I figured about as much.”
“Well do we get to have a say at all about how it goes?” he asks, sounding a little bitter. “How big it is and where it’s at and all that?”
“Yes and no,” Elle begins with a wince. “There will be certain things that will not be negotiable... like the reception, some of the people invited to both the ceremony and reception, and parts of the ceremony too. It is a presidential tradition after all. Also, the location. It must take place at Mile High. That’s where President Maxwell and Madam Maxwell were married.”
I sigh. “Okay.”
Lyncoln turns to face me and ignores Dougall, who has her mouth open about to say something more. “Are you sure it’s okay? I wanted to give you the wedding you wanted, not the wedding the people wanted. Our wedding should be about us.”
I smile at him, remembering his words to me the other night. “I have you. I have my family. The rest is just details.” I give his knee where my hand is resting another squeeze just for good measure.
Dougall looks surprised and mumbles to Elle, “Well that went smoother than expected. I expected more resistance out of Reagan, not Lyncoln.”
I sarcastically roll my eyes at her. “Expecting my temper, were you?”
She shrugs with a smile. “I did my best to beat that thing into submission, but I know it’s in there somewhere just waiting for its chance.”
This makes Lyncoln laugh, really laugh. A borderline rude amount.
I pretend to glare at him while trying not to giggle myself. Then after a moment I interrupt their little bonding moment over me. “I only have one question though.”
Dougall raises her eyebrows and waits. Elle looks a little worried about what I’m about to ask.
After I torture them with a dram
atic pause, I ask, “So you all know that Marisol and Henry aren’t really head over heels for one another, yet if they win, you’ll still make them get married on January 1st, no matter if they are ready or not? In two weeks? I mean, at least we were eventually going to get married anyway. But what about them?”
They both hesitate, and I have my answer.
“Wow.” I shake my head.
Dougall sighs. “I know it isn’t ideal, Reagan. And if they win, yes, it’s a crappy thing to do to them. But in your case, you love one another and, like you said, will get married win or lose. Think of it from the perspective of running a nation, you want to rally everyone around the new couple. Watching them get married and get inaugurated all in one day shows what a strong front the Presidential Couple are putting forth. It shows a maturity in the couple. And it also reiterates family values and gets the people’s support.”
“It also apparently reiterates the fact that appearances are everything.” I can’t help but sound annoyed. I know other than the first Culling, the Presidential Couple has always been married and inaugurated around the same time. But just because it’s the way it is, it doesn’t mean it’s right.
Dougall smiles. “See? Your temper has definitely not gone anywhere. And to think I thought my work with you was done.”
I roll my eyes again. “I have a feeling it never will be.”
She nods her agreement and then moves on to the next topic. “Now. Voting. Denver and Seattle were tight. If that was any indication of how this next vote is going to go, this whole thing is going to be tight.”
Great. That’s just what I wanted to hear.
I briefly look to Elle. Dougall always does this with us, tells us how we are doing and what we need to improve on for the next vote. She has made it perfectly clear she is voting for us and on team anti-Hadenfelt. Elle, though I love her and want to think she is voting for us, has never said for sure either way. I’m sure Dougall does this game planning with Marisol and Henry too, but does Elle know she’s totally biased towards us?
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 38