I’m freaking the fuck out.
Tonight is the State Dinner, and to say I’m nervous is a colossal understatement. And I’m in the residence of the White House getting ready with the First Lady and the Press Secretary like a couple sixteen-year-olds getting ready for the prom. I’m not sure how this is my life. It’s kind of like I woke up one day and I was in the Twilight Zone.
“Can you pass me that red lip gloss?” Jules asks.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, picking up the square-shaped tube and passing it over.
“Really, Jules?” Grace questions her choice with a heavy amount of judgement packed behind it that only a best friend could. “Fuck-me-red for a State Dinner?”
“Too much?” she asks me.
“Uhh… probably.”
“Fuck.” She sighs. “I’m trying too hard.”
“Anyone in particular you’re trying to impress?” Grace prompts just a little too casually to actually be casual conversation.
“Fuck you, no.”
This weird moment that is so natural with these two powerful women is exactly what I needed. Grace and Jules have been my friends for a while now, but this year, they brought me into the fold. I’m one of them, and it’s crazy. I’m the stylist, but now, somewhere along the way, they made me family, and it is exactly what I needed. They bring me a level of balance that my life is seriously lacking. And with Rachel missing, I need them to keep me grounded while we play pretend to smoke out the bad guys.
I’m seriously living in a James Bond movie.
“How about a smoky eye with that dress instead?” I suggest, passing her a palette of golds and dark browns that will look amazing with her dark eyes and chestnut hair.
“I love that! Thank you.”
“Of course.” I smile at her. She’s a dab hand with makeup; that’s for sure. A little style direction goes a long way with these two, and they make my life so easy.
Grace does her makeup in soft browns and pinks. She’s really enjoying the innocent pregnant mother look while Jules rocks the vixen vibe. She’s let her hair down in soft waves and is going to wear the emerald-green dress I found for her with some actual emerald jewelry. She’s even snuck a pair of ridiculously tall heels from her old wardrobe.
“Jake is going to paddle your ass when he sees those heels.” Jules laughs, and she’s not wrong.
“I see nothing,” I add. “I’m not a party to this, and I am not getting fired over her shoe tantrum.”
“You’re fine,” Grace says with a delicate laugh. “I can handle him.”
“Here’s hoping.”
“Can you do me up?” Jules asks.
“Of course.” Grace helps her zip up her dress.
She’s wearing a red lace dress with a mock neck, but what should be modest is… not. The entire thing is fitted through her hips and then flows to the ground. She has nude heels underneath it, and her hair twisted into elegant curls and then rolled up and pinned at the back of her neck. She looks gorgeous.
My own dress is much simpler. It has a fitted long-sleeved bodice with a neckline that just barely shows my collarbones. The back, however, dips almost to my waist. A soft organza skirt flows around my legs, making me feel like a ballerina. I twisted my long dark hair up into an intricate bun and did my makeup in dark browns and soft pinks. I love fashion and makeup, but I’m meant to be behind the scenes, not star in the show, so the more subdued style appeals to me, even though I feel like I could crap my pants or pass out at any moment. Oh, God. What if I throw up on a Japanese dignitary?
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Grace asks me when she notices I’ve gone silent.
“That I will throw up on a Japanese dignitary and humiliate myself in front of everyone ever,” I admit like word vomit; they just come up and out against my own volition.
Jules laughs. “The Japanese won’t even be here tonight, so you’re safe.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“You’ll be fine,” she says as she wraps her arm around my shoulders. “We got your back. Right, fancy pants?”
“Hell yeah!” Grace laughs. “I would hug you, but my arms are no longer long enough to reach past my enormous body.”
“How far along are you again?” Jules asks with a twinkle in her eye. We both agree Grace has to be the most beautiful pregnant woman alive.
“Seven hundred days.” She sighs. “I think this isn’t a baby and it’s actually an African elephant.”
“That will make the delivery entertaining,” I say with a wink.
“You’re both terrible.” Grace laughs too. “You’re both supposed to disagree with me and feel sorry for me.”
“The only thing I feel sorry about is that your ass looks better than mine,” Jules says.
“You say the sweetest things.” Grace sighs. “All right, I’ll keep you both.”
Grace and Jules make me smile. It feels weird. I feel like I should never smile again. My life without Rachel in it is like a life with no sun, only eternal darkness. It feels like all the joy has been sucked out of everything. And then I feel myself smile or share a laugh with friends. And it feels both good and wrong. Like I shouldn’t be allowed to have moments like this.
I know what Rick said too. And I love him, I really do. I feel like we turned a corner the other night and there will be no coming back from it. Rick and I have lived as man and wife for the last three nights, and over the last three days and nights, I’ve worn the ring he gave me on our wedding day. And I don’t want to take it off. It’s actually the only jewelry I’m wearing tonight with my beautiful gown. I don’t own anything else real, and I know Rick hates the cheap costume jewelry I wore to the Inaugural Ball. And truth be told, I don’t think this dress needs anything else.
But even that’s not what has me freaking the fuck out.
What has me worried, what has me conjuring up all kinds of terrible scenarios in my head are the parting words that Rick gave me as we went our separate ways in the White House so I could come and dress with the girls.
As we were getting ready to say goodbye for the afternoon, Rick pulled me into his arms and kissed me stupid. When he slid back, I wore the stupidest grin on my face. And then he tucked his face in the crook of my neck for a snuggle, where he whispered in my ear words that were like a bucket of ice water being dropped on my head.
“Don’t trust Black,” he said.
“W-what?” I whispered.
“I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either.”
“But he works for the president.” Surely, we could trust the most senior military advisor to the President of the United States, right? I mean, don’t they vet those people extensively?
“I didn’t pick him, so I don’t trust him, not with you, not with our daughter,” he warned.
“I’m scared.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’ll be with you the whole time. Even if you can’t see me, I’ll have eyes on you.”
“Well that’s not creepy at all, ex-husband.” I squeaked when he swatted me on the ass.
“Drop the ex.”
“I tried. He keeps coming back.”
“Not funny.”
“I know.” I sighed.
“Now tell me you love me,” he said, pulling me closer.
“I love you.”
“Now tell me you’ll be a good girl,” he rumbled, his voice turning husky and sexy. I didn’t say anything at all. “Cara?”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
He rolled his eyes at me, but they still crinkled in the corners in that way I love so much. He touched his mouth to mine. It was light and firm, and he kept his eyes open to look at mine. And then it was over far too quickly.
And then I squeaked when he swatted me again and said, “Off with you.”
And I haven’t seen him since. Grace said he’s around here somewhere smoking cigars and drinking whiskey with Jake and Ryan, but that only makes me even more nervous. I can’t tell Jules an
d Grace what Rick said, because what if we’re wrong? But then again, what if we’re right and he’s the bad guy? And when did my life become a spy novel? This is way too stressful.
And I thought New Jersey was bad!
I press my hand flat against my belly and take a deep breath. I need to calm my nerves, but I’m so afraid that everyone will see I’m a big fraud. That I don’t belong in this life and that I’m only searching for my daughter.
“Come in,” Grace says, when there’s a knock at the door.
Jake and Rick walk through the door. I notice Jules looks up like she’s expecting someone, but when no one shows, she busies herself with clipping a large dangling earring through her ear.
Jake makes no effort to hide the affection he has for his wife as he wraps his arms around her and kisses her stupid.
“My lipstick,” she says when he pulls back.
“Is fixable.” He winks at her.
“Hey,” Rick says softly, drawing my attention away from a couple who loves each other so very deeply you wouldn’t know that less than a year ago he blackmailed her into being in a relationship with him. Well, Rick did most of the blackmailing. The memory makes me realize there’s a lot more to this older, wiser Rick than I realized. Maybe he does carry a darkness after all.
“Hey yourself.”
“You look beautiful,” he says, looking at me—I mean really looking at me. It’s like he’s seen it all, the good and the bad, and he still likes what he sees under all the paint and spackle.
“Thank you.”
“I brought you something,” he says, looking a little nervous, and I wonder what has him so anxious and… unsteady. It’s so unlike him.
“What is it?”
Rick doesn’t say anything but produces a small velvet box from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He holds out the tiny package like it’s a rattlesnake about to strike, and the thought makes me smile. I gently lift it from his hands and crack open the hard shell. Nestled on a satin pillow inside are a pair of large diamond earrings with two small circles of tiny, shimmery diamonds around them.
“They’re beautiful,” I say. “Thank you.”
“The lady in the shop called them lovers’ knots, and I liked that,” he says as he plucks them from their safe little slot. He gently tips my head to the side to expose my ear, and he slips the stud through before turning me to the other side.
“Why’s that?” I think he’s going to tell me something sweet like our hearts will always be connected or that we were always meant to be, but he does not.
“Because I like the idea of you tied up again.” He smirks, making me laugh.
“You’re terrible.”
“I know, but I’m still yours,” he says, sounding more than a little unrepentant but still in a way that is romantic in his own way.
“It’s time, Mr. President,” Gus says from the doorway. He must have knocked when I wasn’t paying attention.
“Ready?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I sigh.
“Don’t look so down.” Rick winks at me, showing me a hint of the happy-go-lucky guy I married almost a decade ago. “You have the best-looking date in the room.
“You’re supposed to say I’m the best-looking date, silly!”
“Oh,” he says, faking an affronted look. “My apologies.”
“Goober,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I guess we need to go.”
But when we turn to leave the room, I notice everyone is watching us, and they all have differing silly expressions on their faces.
“What?” I whisper-snap to Grace, but she just shakes her head very subtly before taking Jake’s arm and walking from the room.
• • •
As it turns out, official State Dinners are funny things.
Because of Rick’s status as Chief of Staff, we were afforded pretty fancy seating at a table with a party of the foreign dignitaries’ entourages. My only saving grace was that Jules is apparently of the same caliber as Rick in the grand scheme of political hierarchy, so she was at our table and seated directly next to me. I’m sure Grace had a lot to do with that table assignment, and I’m sorry Jules got stuck at the table babysitting me. Not that she made me feel that way at all.
The downside of that is that Captain Black is also apparently of this political echelon and seated several seats over from Jules. His nearness keeps me on edge, and Rick drops his hand to the top of my thigh underneath the table to distract me. He is so in tune with me, and I with him. And I swear I can feel his fingertip at the edge of my panties even through the million layers of my skirt. The distraction helps ease my mind.
I’m actually surprised that all the people closest to the president are seated at a different table. Although there are a lot of people here tonight. More people than I ever thought imaginable, and I was at the Inaugural Ball.
I quietly pick through course after course of dinner. Jules talks to me some, but her job is to entertain the rest of our table, as is Rick’s and Captain Black’s. I answer when I’m asked a question and smile when I need to, but I’m really unnecessary at this event, which is great, because on the inside I’m dying slowly.
I’m just the date of the Chief of Staff. Actually, I’m not even sure what I am to him. I know that I’m his ex-wife and the mother of his daughter. I know that I’m currently his lover and wearing his ring, but what that means, I have no idea.
After dinner, we’re free to move about the cabin. Grace and Jake open up the dance floor, which I have learned is actually part of her official duties. The whole thing is wild. I stand dutifully beside Rick as he works the room. Every so often, he reaches for my hand or the small of my back, nothing too forward or inappropriate for the room, but it’s a grounding touch, like he needs to know I’m still there.
“Mind if I steal your girl for a minute?” Jules asks Rick after a while. I can see he wants to say no, that I need to be beside him where he can get to me if I need him. It’s not a controlling thing, and I know that if our daughter wasn’t missing right now, I would be free to do whatever I wanted. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even be here right now; I’d be home with Rachel. It’s another little tell of Rick’s that he’s feeling out of control and doesn’t like it. I don’t think anyone else spots it, but Jules is very perceptive. So I shouldn’t be surprised when she lowers her voice and whispers for his ears only, “She’ll be safe. I promise. And Ryan is close.”
His dark eyes flare, and then he surprises me when he answers, “Sure. Don’t be gone too long.” And then he places a hard and fast kiss to my lips before letting me go and turning away.
Jules wraps my arm around hers and leads me to a darker corner of the room where people don’t seem to be hanging around, grabbing each of us a glass of champagne from a passing waiter on the way by. She’s like a dancer the way she moves with so much grace and class. I can almost see her as a girl Rachel’s age, walking around the house with an encyclopedia on her head.
“How are you holding up?” she asks me as she hands me a glass of champagne.
“I think I’m doing all right,” I answer before taking a sip of my drink.
“I know you’re nervous, but you’re doing marvelous,” she assures.
“Really?” I ask incredulously. “Because it feels like I’ve said three words the whole night and only spoke when asked something.”
“Yes! That’s exactly what the group wants,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Women aren’t supposed to speak.”
“Then why are you?” I sip more of my champagne. I’m fascinated by this side of Jules. I’ve always seen her as a dear friend of Grace’s. She’s kind and witty, and Lord knows she’s gorgeous, but right now, she’s in her element, and it’s awesome to see her come alive like this.
“Because it irritates them.” She winks.
“No, you do not.” I gasp.
“Oh, I totally do. Everyone knows it too.” She sips her champagne as well.
“And they just let you
get away with it?” I ask. God bless Julia Fairchild for being the kind of woman who will seek out a new friend in need in a ridiculously fancy State Dinner, when she is probably needed elsewhere, to make said new friend laugh and relax, even if it’s just for a little bit. I like her. I’m keeping her.
“Mostly.” She shrugs until something across the room catches her eye, making her scowl. I look over my shoulder to where she’s looking and see Captain Black looking absolutely frustrated and more than a little murderous. I’m not going to lie; his expression has me shrinking back just a bit. “Well, except for Ryan. He doesn’t seem to approve of me very much.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Jules just shrugs it off. “Don’t be. I’m not.”
“I like you, Julia Fairchild,” I tell her, making her laugh again. “I’m keeping you.”
“Oh good,” she says with a broad smile. “Because I’ve already decided to keep you too.”
“Fantastic news.”
“Oh dear, Grace is sending up a Romeo,” she says, looking away from Captain Black but still across the room.
“She’s sending up a what?” I ask, looking to where she seems to be focused.
“See how she’s sliding the pendant on her necklace back and forth while glancing over here every so often?” she asks me.
“Yes, I do,” I answer. “What is she doing? She looks a little ridiculous.”
“She does, doesn’t she?” Jules replies. “She’s sending up a Romeo. It’s an old sorority secret. When you need an out, you slide your necklace like that, and a sister or two will come rescue you. Simple as that. So, you see, it’s our duty to go find out what our dear First Lady needs.”
“Seeing as how she’s very pregnant and dancing a bit, I’m guessing it’s the powder room,” I suggest.
“It looks like you would be correct.”
“We should probably hurry.”
“Hello!” Jules says brightly, interrupting whatever the man she was speaking to was saying. “Will you excuse us for a moment? I need to steal the First Lady for some important business.”
She doesn’t give the man a chance to reply; she just steers Grace away and through the door and down the hall. It’s actually one of the more impressive maneuvers I’ve seen her execute in the entire time I’ve known her.
Caught by the Chief of Staff (A Presidential Affair Book 2) Page 15