Disclaimers
Copyright:
These characters originated in the deep dark recesses of TN and Advocate's
overworked brains.
Copyright © 2001 by T. Novan, Advocate. All Rights Reserved.
Sexual Content: It's in there and it involves two women. If you're under 18 or this
type of fiction is illegal in your neck of the woods, please move on. This
story is intended for an adult audience only.
Violence:
Mild
Language:
Mild profanity
Acknowledgements: To our beta readers, Barbara Davies and Maggie Sheridan - your
assistance was invaluable! And, of course, we had a blast working together. But
we won't bore you with our mutual admiration. While we've got your attention,
we'd like to offer a special 'I love you' to our respective spouses
The Book: We
are very pleased to announce that 'Madam President' is under contract for print
publication by a brand new publishing house called Jane Doe Press (www.janedoepress.com). An announcement
concerning preordering should hit the web very soon. Also, you should know that
the print version will contain additional scenes not included in the online
version. Don't worry, the online version is a complete story. Consider the
print version a 'directors' cut'
The Book: 2005 Update: Madam President (and it's sequel First Lady) are now available
from Cavalier Press http://www.cavalierpress.com/
Comments/Feedback: Tnovan@aol.com and
advocate8704@yahoo.com
Madam President
By
T. Novan and Advocate (Blayne Cooper)
Prologue
November 2020
Friday, November 6th
Her iron, slightly sweaty grip on the
chair's armrests clamped down even harder, causing white knuckles to stand out
in vivid relief against the dark blue vinyl. She would have chewed her lower
lip in consternation if she could have. But she couldn't. Right now all she
could do was pray. I'm gonna be okay. I am. I can do this. Children do this,
for Christ's sake! Her head snapped to one side, wrinkling the white, paper
bib tied round her neck, and gray eyes went impossibly wide at the sound of
footsteps. Oh, no. Someone's coming. It'll be him!
"Hello? Anybody
home?" A cheerful voice chuckled for just a split second before a balding
head, wreathed with white hair, peeked around the slightly open door. "Hi
there!" The man smiled amiably at the frightened woman and marched happily
into the room. "I'm Doctor Cardozo. So that means you must be..." He
discreetly peeked at his patient's chart, having forgotten the name already, as
he slipped into a pair of rubber gloves. Snapping the second glove loudly, he
scanned for the pertinent information that his assistant had emphasized with
hot pink highlighter.
Lauren Strayer
Blood diseases: None
reported
Last checkup:
Patient Assessment:
Complains of chronic pain in....
He glanced up from the chart
and at Lauren. "Ms. Strayer, I think when you were here the last time you
must have misunderstood one of my colleague's instructions. Checkup time comes
around every six months. Not every six years." He shook his head sadly.
His voice was mildly
chastising, and Lauren nodded but rolled her eyes. Asshole, she thought
tartly. I only come here because you're close to my apartment. One more
snotty comment, and I'm moving.
Dr. Cardozo scanned the
small diagram of the human mouth where an 'X' was placed on the lower left
wisdom tooth. He pursed his lips for a moment then set the chart down, pulling
up a stool next to Lauren.
"Well now, let's
see what we have." He grabbed a shiny silver pick from a tray full of
instruments and pointed it at Lauren's mouth, which was already being held open
by the jaw spreader that had been inserted by the dental assistant who had
prepped her. One look, and the assistant had known that tooth was coming out...
today.
Round, apprehensive eyes
followed the instrument as it moved closer to its target. When it got within an
inch or two of Lauren's mouth, she jerked her head away in pure reaction.
The dentist exhaled
tiredly. "Come on now, Ms. Strayer. This is just a probe." He held
out the pick for her to see. "I know you must be hurting. Your cheek is
all pink and swollen." A cold finger poked the body part in question and
Lauren winced, grunting her agreement.
She glared at him
evilly, but, knowing he was right, dutifully turned her head and presented him
with her wide-open mouth. Not that I have a choice with this thing holding
my mouth open like the catch of the day. He immediately made a hissing
noise that she correctly assumed meant something bad. Very bad.
"Needs to come
out," he informed her bluntly. And, while he didn't do what he was about
to do very often, he thought with this patient he'd make an exception. It was
the reason he still kept the old machine around. "This will help." He
reached over and turned a nozzle, then fiddled with a mask for a moment before
placing it over Lauren's nose and mouth. "Just breathe normally."
She looked startled for
a second, but then remembered getting laughing gas once as a child. Nice
bedside manner. You could have at least explained what you were doing first. Lauren
thought hard. Would they need to use the... she gulped... laser to extract a
tooth? She couldn't imagine why. And with that self-serving conclusion, the
woman felt her painfully ridged body begin to relax.
"You hold
this." The dentist pried Lauren's fingers from one of the armrests and
moved her hand to the mask. "I'll be back in a minute, and we'll fix you
right up. Would you like to watch television while you wait?"
Lauren nodded
gratefully. She would do anything to keep her mind off what was about to
happen.
"TV on," he
commanded. Three tiny, flat, gray boxes, each mounted strategically on a
different wall, shot angled beams that, when combined, formed a stunning,
three- dimensional picture whose edges simply fuzzed away into reality. Filling
the space in the corner of the room there was now a handsome anchorman and his
large paper-covered desk. 'Election 2020' was written in red, white and blue
block letters and hovered over his left shoulder.
Lauren groaned loudly,
but it was too late. Dr. Cardozo had already scuttled out of the room,
presumably to attend to his next victim. Irritably, she pulled the mask away
from her face and tried to give the voice command 'change channel' but the
current state of her mouth made it impossible, her efforts serving only to drip
saliva down her chin. Then she tried to curse, but that didn't work either.
Which only made her want to curse some more. Finally, she simply gave up and
pressed the gas mask tightly against her face. Inhaling deeply, she prayed
she'd be so stoned in a few seconds that she would miss the Ken doll-like
anchorman droning on and on about President-elect Marlowe.
The election music cued
up and, in the blink of an eye, Devlyn Marlowe, at her podium on the steps of
the Governor's mansion in
"Oh, God!" Not
her again! Every day. Day after day after day after day... The buzzing from
the room's fluorescent lights began to grow louder and louder, and Lauren felt
her body began to magically sink into the chair as a lovely sense of
dislocation overtook her. She stared at the charismatic woman dressed in a
long, black trench coat who appeared oblivious to the light drizzle dampening
her head and coat.
"How are you
feeling, Ms. Strayer?" Dr. Cardozo reappeared at her side, and she blinked
dazedly at him, not having heard him come in. He looked at her and grinned
knowingly, quite certain she was feeling no pain at the moment. "I think
we're finished with this now." The man gently pulled away Lauren's mask.
"Don't you just love her?" He motioned over his shoulder with an
instrument.
Lauren furrowed her
brow. Love her? Nooooooo. I'm sick of her and this entire election. She
allowed President-elect Marlowe's acceptance speech to roll right over her, the
low tone of the dark-haired woman's voice soothing her further. But even so,
her gaze remained focused on Marlowe's image. She's sure easy on the eyes.
Nice hair, tall, her mind rambled as the dentist began rooting around in
her mouth.
After a few moments, the
dentist began flushing Lauren's mouth with water and suctioning it back out,
the noise preventing him from hearing the television. "Volume up
two," he ordered absently.
Lauren jumped a little,
shocked back to the moment when Marlowe's voice suddenly grew too loud to
ignore.
Devlyn Marlowe leaned
forward on the podium, her hands resting on its edges. Although she was
physically exhausted from what had been a grueling campaign, one whose final
numbers were the closest since the Gore/Bush fiasco twenty years prior, she fed
off the crowd's energy, soaking up their excitement, the palpable charge in the
air reinvigorating frazzled nerves. "We did it!" She raised a fist in
victory, and the crowd roared.
The President-elect
laughed warmly, then raised her palms to quiet them so she could continue
speaking. Devlyn looked up and flashed a charismatic, heart-stopping smile at
someone in the crowd. And Lauren sucked in a breath; her drug-induced stupor
further adding to the feeling that Devlyn was smiling directly at her. Wow.
Marlowe's gaze dropped
from Lauren's, and she stuck her wet hands in her coat pockets, stepping down
several stairs so she could speak more directly to the crowd. A flurry of
activity around her made it clear that that move wasn't expected by the Secret
Service agents flanking the edge of the steps. And several of them moved
smoothly into new positions before disappearing from view. "As one of my
favorite authors wrote, 'When faced with what seems like an insurmountable
challenge, you have but one choice... to dig deeper within yourself than you
ever believed possible... to question the dedication and worthiness of your
very soul... and then to throw caution to the winds and take your fate in your
own two hands.' "
Lauren began choking
wildly, gasping for air, her flailing arms knocking into the instrument tray
and sending several tools onto her lap. Oh, my God!
The crowd had gone
respectfully silent, but exploded once again when Devlyn added, "We did
that, folks... and we made history in the process!" Her voice was drowned
out by the cheering masses, and the anchorman broke in to add his own
commentary.
"Dammit!" Dr.
Cardozo clumsily yanked his hand out of the convulsing woman's mouth, her tooth
trapped between the bloody tips of his shaking forceps. Thank God she didn't
swallow it. My malpractice insurance is already hell. "What's wrong?
Are you hurt?"
"Cu... Cu...
Cu...!!!"
"What? What?"
he asked desperately, beginning to panic over Lauren's agitated state. Maybe
she'd sue him anyway. He practically threw down the forceps onto the askew
tray, sending Lauren's wisdom tooth bouncing across the carpet.
Without warning, the
woman leaned over to a small porcelain basin and carelessly ripped the jaw
spreader from her mouth, spitting and hacking several times in the process. Her
lips were numb, and she could barely form the words. "Cu... Cu..."
She swallowed and smacked her unresponsive cheeks and lips with her hands.
"Lord have mercy,
girl. What is it?"
Lauren extended her
finger toward the image of the anchorman who was still chatting away happily. A
still head shot of Devlyn's was floating disembodied above him as election
result percentages ran in a continuous stream just below her neck, disappearing
into the area where Dr. Cardozo's coat rack stood.
"She cu...
cu..."
Dr. Cardozo stared at
her expectantly.
"She quoted
me!" Lauren was finally able to blurt out. She frowned and wiped away a
long string of saliva that was dangling freely from her chin.
The man rubbed his
forehead, starting to suspect that Lauren's revelation didn't have anything to
do with dentistry. "Huh?"
Lauren blinked in
confusion, the laughing gas making her tongue feel thick, and her senses dull.
"I'm the... the author." She ran a hand through wavy,
shoulder-length, blonde hair. "Sweet Jesus," she drawled, the words
taking on a slur at the end. "I didn't even vote for the Yankee!"
A glimpse of color
caught her eye, and Lauren suddenly peered down at her paper bib, which was
speckled with red dots and several good sized crimson smears. Her eyes widened,
and the color drained from her face. "Is that blo... bloo?"
"Blood," Dr.
Cardozo finished, looking down at Lauren's limp form which was lying peacefully
in the dental chair. "Shit." Stepping around the unconscious woman's
feet, he walked over to the doorway and motioned over the receptionist. "I
need a phone number."
The receptionist peered
inside the exam room. "Your lawyer?"
"My lawyer,"
he confirmed with a scowl.
* * *
Lauren pulled into her
designated parking space outside her apartment complex, shutting down the
engine with the voice command 'engine off' followed by '4213' which happened to
be the last four digits of her social security number. In an effort to make her
life simple, she used the same four numbers for every code she had, knowing
full well that any thief with minimal brainstem activity could wipe her out
financially in a heartbeat. Then again, she never got locked out of her
apartment or accidentally routed her grocery bill to the phone company. Simple
was good, she decided.
The fair-haired woman
slipped off small, silver, wire-framed glasses and leaned over, resting her
forehead against the steering wheel. After she had woken up at the dentist's
office, it had taken nearly thirty minutes to convince the man that she wasn't
going to sue him. She explained that passing out or throwing up was her typical
reaction to the sight of her own blood. Nothing like making a total and
complete fool of myself to start the day off right.
Lauren groaned slightly,
her jaw feeling like she'd been hit in the face with a two-by-four. She plucked
a small bottle of prescription pain pills she'd picked up on the way home out
of her jacket pocket. Squinting, she studied the label, then shook her head and
relented, sliding her glasses back into place. Three more hours until I can
take another one. Just great. Her head felt like it was going to explode
this very minute.
Stuffing the bottle back
in her pocket, she exited her car and slowly made her way up the outdoor
staircase to her second floor apartment. With one hand, she closed the lapels
of her suede jacket to ward off the chill. November in
She rounded a blind
corner to her apartment, digging in her purse for the keys she'd already put
away without thinking. When she glanced up, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Three slightly shivering men, two dressed in suits and one in khakis and a
sport coat, appeared to be waiting for her outside her apartment door.
The oldest of the trio,
a heavy-set man in his late fifties with a slightly graying goatee, caught
sight of Lauren and visibly relaxed. "Lauren! I'm glad we caught you. I
tried to call you, but I kept getting your service."
Lauren scrunched up her
face as she narrowed her eyes. "
"Damn, I need to
adjust the color on my machine. You're much more of a blonde than a
redhead." His eyes twinkled happily. "Hiya, sweetheart. Oooo... how
does the other guy look?" He grazed her slightly black and blue cheek with
his fingertips.
Lauren didn't bother to
answer his question. Instead, she grinned as much as her mouth packed with
cotton swabs would allow. His rapid speech and nasal,
He smiled back in
response and felt himself pulled into a tight, heartfelt hug, wishing, as he
had many times over the years, that he were young enough to turn this pretty
woman's head.
Lauren caught a whiff of
peppermint, and a light crunching sound near her ear confirmed that he was
chewing a piece of hard candy. "What are you doing here?" she asked
curiously, her hands grasping his biceps so she could push back and look him
over again. "I sent you those contract revisions three days ago. There was
no need to come all the way out here for that." She smacked his arm
lightly.
Remembering that there
were two strangers standing only a few feet away, Lauren's gaze traveled to the
other men who were both wearing navy blue, three-piece suits, and gray
overcoats. She frowned and stopped talking, pressing her lips against
At the word 'mob' the
two other men's ears seemed to perk up like a curious German Shepherd's.
"Kidding,"
* * *
"No."
Arching a pale, slender
eyebrow, Lauren crossed her arms over her chest. "It's a simple word,
"Please let
President-elect Marlowe know that I'm flattered beyond words that she wants me
to do her biography. But that I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. I'm
sorry you had to come all the way to
Michael Oaks, one of
Devlyn's most trusted aides, and soon-to-be Social Secretary for the new
administration, reluctantly shook Lauren's hand, more than a little pissed off
that he'd flown from
But Michael knew his
boss would expect him to give Strayer the full court press, no matter how he
personally felt about the task. His dark eyes went serious. "Why, Ms.
Strayer? Why won't you consider President-elect Marlowe's request? This is an
unparalleled honor. Surely you don't have a better offer pending?" He
looked over at Wayne, who wildly shook his head 'no'.
The writer smiled
sweetly and did her best to hold her tongue. Honor, my ass. This is one of
those jobs where they tell you what to write, and then you slap your name on
the book cover. No, thanks... she can find herself another propaganda puppet. "I'm
simply not interested." Her tone was polite but cooling quickly.
"The compensation
offer is more than generous, but still negotiable. We consulted several major
publishing companies who indicated what we are offering is well above what
their highest paid historians and biographers command."
"I'm sure it is.
But the answer is still 'no'," she insisted. I don't respond well to
overly aggressive, buddy. And you've already crossed that line.
The young black man
tried again. "But-"
Lauren lifted her hands
in forestallment. "First of all, I don't specialize in politicians."
"If I'm not
mistaken, your last biography was of Cardinal James O'Roarke. Are you going to
stand here and tell me that the Catholic Church isn't a political
institution?" His voice was rising in volume and had taken on a slightly
sarcastic edge.
Lauren felt her temper
beginning to rise. Who did he think he was? The man next to him, who might as
well have had 'Secret Service' tattooed on his forehead, stepped closer to her,
invading her private space and looking at her with disapproving eyes. But she
refused to back down. Am I supposed to be intimidated by 'no neck'? I think
not. I can see how you operate, Devlyn Marlowe! "I've only been home
for a few months after spending nearly two years in
"It's important to
the nation that..." Mr. Oaks continued, not stopping when Lauren tried to
get a word in edgewise several times.
Wayne noticed the
woman's face turning pink, then, finally, a bright red. He crunched down a new
mint nervously. Oh, no. Here it comes. The IRS is going to audit
Starlight Publishing, and me personally, every single year from now until the
end of time! "Lauren, please. I know you had your heart set on Maya
Angelou. But this is the President of the United States for God's sake!"
"No means no,"
Lauren ground out forcefully, her temper snapping. She marched over to the
front door and flung it open with a loud bang. She automatically bent over and
used one arm to keep her rambunctious Pug, Gremlin, from escaping. "This
conversation is over."
Sunday, November 8th
The sedan slowed.
Actually, several sedans slowed. To the casual observer, they could've been
mistaken for a procession carrying a family mourning the loss of someone it
loved. And if it weren't for the identity of one of the people in the third
car, that might have been true. Before her car had even come to a complete
stop, men in dark suits surrounded it; the men who protected the life of the
President-elect. With a quick but thorough check, the area was deemed secure,
and two long legs appeared from behind an automobile door as Devlyn Marlowe
began to climb out of the car.
She leaned over, spoke
to the other occupants, and retrieved a bouquet of roses before slowly walking
to the stone that sat some thirty feet way. The men assigned to guard her were
dutiful, but extremely respectful of her privacy at this moment, keeping as far
away as safety permitted. She adjusted her scarf and tugged on the collar of
her coat, raising it over the back of her neck. Dev gripped the roses and
brought them to her nose, but most of their sweet, spicy fragrance was swept
away by the cold autumn air.
She settled down in
front of the gravestone, the damp, leaf-strewn grass soaking the knees of her
slacks. Devlyn placed the flowers in a ceramic vase attached to the stone and
brushed away a few twigs and leaves that had clustered around the base of the
headstone. "Hiya, beautiful. I had to come today because things are going
to get very nuts for me very shortly." Dev gave a slight chuckle as she
intently studied a bright orange leaf with gloved hands. "Look who I'm
trying to kid. Things are already nuts for me."
Dev let go of the leaf
and watched the wind carry it away. She leaned forward so her fingers could
trace the outline of the letters carved in stone. "I miss you. Sometimes
at night, I still wake up and reach for you." She smiled and her hand
dropped away. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I wouldn't be
where I am if it hadn't been for you. I wish we could be together now."
Her smile turned
wistful. "You'd make a great First Lady." Dev settled back on her
bottom, resting with her legs stretched before her. She crossed her ankles.
"Wonder how they would have handled that? At least I think they would have
called you First Lady." She sighed, shaking her head. "Doesn't
matter. You were, and always will be, my first lady, and that's what is
important."
"I don't think I'll
be coming back, Samantha. I'll bring the kids, of course. Anytime they
want," she quickly added. "But I think... for me... I need to try and
focus on the future for a while." She was silent for a long moment,
listening to the faint howl of the wind and the sound of passing cars in the distance.
"Yeah." She sighed and nodded a little. "I knew you'd
understand."
Dev glanced back to the
caravan and signaled. One of the agents opened the door to Dev's car, and
three, small children climbed out. Ashley, the dark-haired seven-year-old,
patiently waited for her little brothers to make their way out of the back seat
before carefully taking their hands.
The tall woman smiled
affectionately as the children walked toward her. She turned back to face the
stone. "You'd be so proud of all of them. They're very special. Aaron has
a picture of you on his nightstand. He kisses you goodnight before bed."
Her voice shook a little as she spoke. "I've made sure they know you. They
know both their Moms." She chuckled suddenly. "Ashley, bless her, has
learned to roll her eyes at me the same way you used to."
The children joined her,
and Aaron, the youngest at four, settled himself into Dev's lap, snuggling
round her neck, while the older two placed tiny bouquets of flowers on the
grass in front of the grave.
"Hi, Mommy,"
Ashley greeted easily, taking a seat Indian style. "I got an 'A' in math
today. Mom says I'm doing real good in math now."
On impulse,
five-year-old Christopher gave the cold stone a little kiss, then joined his
brother in Dev's lap. At five, the fair-haired little boy was by far the
quietest of the three kids. Ashley and Aaron seemed to take their monthly
visits in stride. But Christopher seemed to have as difficult a time as Dev
herself. Even though he never complained, she wondered if she should stop
bringing him.
But Devlyn knew it was
important to make these wonderful children understand that they had, indeed,
had two parents who loved them very much. Even if one had been cruelly ripped
away from them by a drunk driver just a few weeks after Aaron was born. It hurt
Devlyn's soul that none of them could really remember much about Samantha. Only
Ashley even had the smallest hint of remembrance. And Dev wasn't sure if those
were genuine or a product of their many family photos.
The family spent a few
more minutes together, then the President-elect sent the children back to the
car. She stood, leaning over to leave a soft kiss on the stone just as her son
had done. "I love you, Samantha. You'll be in my prayers. Just like
always." She took a deep breath and turned for the car. She didn't cry
anymore as she walked away, and she knew that was a good thing.
* * *
Devlyn settled down in
her padded seat at the head of the dining room table with the children and
their nanny. Emma was a godsend. Samantha had hired her right after Devlyn had
Ashley. And she had been right there to lend a hand when Samantha had
Christopher and Aaron. Dev's career kept her so busy that she never seemed to
have as much time to spend with the children as she wanted. Emma had helped
take up even more slack after Samantha's death, and Dev wasn't sure whether she
or the children would have made it without her.
Emma Drysdale was
exactly what you'd want a nanny to be. Dedicated and loving. Her generous smile
and heart were appreciated by all who knew her. She was a tiny woman, with a
fierce personality, ample hips and a matronly bosom. She had a thick head of
golden/gray hair and was as quick with a hug as she was to scold. Emma was more
of a grandmother to the Marlowe children than a paid employee. And that suited
Devlyn just fine. She was one of the family, and the older woman's wrath was
nearly as legendary as her chocolate chip cookies.
"Don't you dare
think you're gonna get up from this table until you've eaten every last bite on
your plate."
Dev looked at each of
the children, wondering which was in trouble. Then she glanced at her own
plate, and she knew who was in Dutch. "I'm eating, Emma," she
protested uselessly.
"You're too skinny
as it is." Emma tsked her and pinched at a broad shoulder that was
anything but skinny. "And you're not eating. You're pushing your food
around to make it look like you're eating." Emma raised a gray brow,
glancing down at the seated woman even as she moved over to Ashley and buttered
another roll for the child. "You don't want to make a bad impression on
your children now, do you?"
"You know,"
Dev stabbed a helpless stalk of asparagus, "I hate it when you do
that."
"I know." The
nanny nodded and refilled Aaron's milk. "That's why I do it."
"Sit down,
Emma," she groaned. "The kids are fine. Eat something yourself."
Dev shook her head and leaned back in her chair, knowing her protest would go
ignored on this night, just as it had on every other night. At least until Emma
was ready to sit down.
She wasn't mistaken.
Ashley giggled and
turned her large brown eyes on her mother. "Mom?"
"Yes,
sweetheart?" Dev decided to make an effort to eat her dinner, even though
she was so tired the only thought that really appealed to her was going
straight to bed.
"Do I have to take
her with me to the zoo tomorrow?"
"Huh?" Dev's
forehead creased as she tried to figure out who her was. "Oh, you mean
Agent Hamlin?"
Ashley scowled and Dev
blinked, startled to see herself so clearly in her daughter's expression.
"I'll take that as
a yes. And I'm afraid you will, sweetheart."
With her fork, the
little girl angrily smashed into the lava river she had created with her mashed
potatoes and gravy. "None of the other kids have to."
"I know, honey.
But...I'll tell you what, we'll tell her to wear jeans and a sweatshirt,
okay?"
Ashley thought about
that for a moment. It couldn't hurt, she figured. "Fine."
Christopher and Aaron
stopped eating so they could listen intently to this conversation. They both
had new bodyguards as well.
"You might as well
get used to Agent Hamlin and try to make friends with her. She's probably going
to be with you for the next four years."
"What about
Amy?"
"Look, Moppet. Amy
was a State Trooper. She took care of you before I was elected President. Now
it's going to be a Secret Service agent and it's going to be Agent
Hamlin." She patted the girl's hand and noticed that Christopher and Aaron
didn't look any more pleased with the prospect than Ashley. Her eyes softened,
and she smiled reassuringly. "You'll get to like her as much as you liked
Amy. I'm sure of it."
"'Kay," the
little girl muttered.
"Mom, can I go
too?" Christopher piped up from his spot directly on Dev's right. "I
want to go to the zoo."
"I'm sure you do,
buddy, but this is a class trip that Moppet is taking." She grasped his
small hand in hers. "But I'll tell you what, I'll try to arrange a trip
for you and Aaron, okay?"
"Yes," Aaron
and Chris cried simultaneously. The brothers gave each other the high five.
Unfortunately, Aaron's aim was a little low, and he ended up smacking Chris in
the head. Chris immediately struck back, and a mini slapping war ensued with
the boys laughing and yelling.
"All right. Time to
get ready for bed." Emma moved from her place at the end of the table and
began herding the children toward the stairs.
Dev stood up as well,
but sat back down like a chastised child when the older woman gave her a
disapproving look.
"I am the
President-elect you know!" the tall woman protested with a fake pout.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I'm very impressed, Madam President-elect." Emma pointed to the full
plate. "Now eat your dinner."
"Am I ever going to
do anything that impresses you?!" Dev called to the retreating form.
"You already have.
They're named Ashley, Christopher and Aaron. Now eat."
* * *
It was nearly three more
hours before Dev was finally finished for the day and wearily began climbing
the stairs toward her bedroom. An aide caught her before her foot landed on the
top step.
"Governor?"
She let her head drop.
"Yes?"
"The Secret Service
just brought this file in for you. They said you wanted it immediately."
It's just a file.
Thank you, God! I may get to bed yet tonight. "Thanks." She took it and
gave the index a quick glance. "Strayer, Lauren Anna. Lauren not Loren,
huh?" I figured 'L. Strayer' had to be a woman. The picture she drew in
my mind....
"Governor?"
The aide looked confused.
"Oh, nothing.
Sorry. Good night."
"Good night,
ma'am."
Devlyn made her way into
Ashley's room first. It was a typical little girl's room. Filled with stuffed
animals, doll houses and all the frills. The little canopy bed only served to
remind Dev how precious her first born truly was.
"Hey, Moppet,"
she whispered into the darkness. "You asleep yet?"
"No, ma'am."
The little girl rolled over, her soft, dark eyes glinting from the light coming
from the hallway.
The tall woman took a
seat on the bed, tucking the file under her arm. She studied her little girl,
brushing messy bangs that needed trimming. "I know you don't understand
everything that's going on right now, and it's kinda scary for you."
Ashley nodded.
"But I need you to
trust me, okay? This is all a very good thing."
"My teacher says
that you're gonna be the most powerful woman in the world. Is that true?"
Startled pale eyes
blinked. "Well..."
"Even more powerful
than Wonder Woman?" The little girl popped up in her bed.
Dev looked into her
daughter's round, brown eyes. "No. No way. Wonder Woman would kick my
butt. Besides she's got that great invisible jet," Dev reminded, giving
her daughter a friendly poke in the tummy.
Ashley nodded. "And
the golden lasso."
"Right." She
gently laid her little girl back down until her shoulders sank into her fluffy
pillow. Then she leaned over, and they rubbed noses. "But you trust me...
right, Moppet?"
"Always and forever."
Little arms tightened around her neck.
They held each other for
a long moment. "Did you tell Mommy good night?"
"Yes, ma'am. Right
after my prayers."
"Good girl."
"You really miss
her, don't you?"
Devlyn frowned. Today at
the cemetery had been very hard for her, and her astute daughter had obviously
picked up on that fact. She'd been trying to say goodbye to Samantha for over
three years, and she was never very good at goodbye. Especially when it came to
people she loved. "Sure, I do."
A pensive look crossed
Ashley's face. "Maybe sometime you'll find a new mommy for us."
A lump formed in Dev's
throat, and it took her several seconds to speak around it. "Maybe,
Moppet," she conceded doubtfully. "But your Mommy was very special.
And I loved her very much."
"So did I... I... I
think."
She tucked her daughter
in, smoothing the covers underneath her chin. "I know you did. And Mommy
knows you did, too. I'm sure of it."
Ashley yawned. "Do
you think she's lonely, like you?"
The innocent words
pierced Dev's heart, and she felt the beginnings of tears. "No, sweetie.
She's happy up in heaven with grandma and grandpa. She's never lonely."
"'Kay." Sleepy
eyes slipped shut.
Dev placed a kiss on her
forehead. "Love you, Ash," she said softly, watching as the girl's
breathing grew deep and even. "Sweet dreams." On her way out of the
room she clicked on a tiny night-light that cast the space in a muted blue
glow.
Next, Dev quietly padded
to the room the boys shared where they lay asleep, tucked down in matching
racecar beds. She knelt between the beds and felt the tears come in earnest.
These boys, with their blond hair and blue eyes, were the spitting image of the
woman who had given birth to them. And neither would ever know the mother who
loved them so much.
"Dammit,
Samantha," she growled under her breath. Dev angrily sprang to her feet.
"How could you just leave us?" She covered her face with trembling
hands, immediately ashamed of her outburst. She wiped away the tears. "I'm
sorry. I didn't mean it." The tired woman forced the tears to stop, wiping
the last of them away with the sleeve of her shirt. "I love you. I didn't
mean it."
She bent over and gave
each boy a soft kiss on the cheek. "Great adventures to you both tonight.
I love you."
Closing the door gently
behind her, she made her way to her own room. She tossed the file down on a
desk near the stone fireplace. Where, true to Mrs. Drysdale's mothering nature,
there was a sandwich and a glass of milk, waiting for the President-elect.
She snorted and threw
herself into a large recliner. She hoisted the milk to her lips, then paused to
take a moment and offer a toast. "To Emma Drysdale, I wouldn't get through
the days or nights without you." She leaned over, flipping open the file
as she sipped the creamy beverage.
"Well, well, Lauren
Strayer. Aren't you just the cutest thing?" There were several pictures of
the young woman, and she held up a 5" X 7" candid shot of Lauren in
the park with her dog. The blonde was wearing a baseball cap, and a short, wavy
ponytail was poking out the back. She had on gray sweats and a bright orange
and white,
Dev examined the date on
the back of the picture and confirmed it was taken only two weeks ago. She
flipped to the next photograph. In this one, Lauren was wearing a linen suit
with a fitted skirt that stopped a few inches above her knees. The more sophisticated
clothing made the writer look older, Dev considered. Lauren's suit jacket was
draped over her shoulder and tanned arms peeked out from beneath a sleeveless,
pale blue silk blouse. She was descending the steps of some office building and
talking to a woman alongside her. The writer's hand had been caught in mid-air
as she gestured. A smile edged its way across Devlyn's lips as she took a good
long moment to enjoy Lauren's youthful good looks, devastating gray eyes and a
smile that she was sure would melt butter.
The President-elect
lifted the last picture, which was obviously Lauren's drivers' license photo.
Making a face, she shivered and pushed a button on the edge of her desk. The
silent room was suddenly filled with a quiet hum. With one last grimace, she
slid the enlarged photo into a paper-thin slot that ran along the corner of the
desk, nodding happily as her shredder obliterated the unflattering shot.
She retrieved the
picture of Lauren in the park and spoke to it. "They'll retake it if you
ask them nicely, Lauren," she chuckled. Tossing down the photo, she picked
up the neatly typed report and glanced at the bio coversheet, but the words
began to blur. She rubbed her eyes, knowing she still had several hours of
pressing work ahead of her. Hell, they told you she passed the security
check last week, Dev. The rest can wait until tomorrow.
"Well, Lauren
Strayer, I don't need this file to tell me I want your help. I already knew
that."
Dev finished her milk,
ate her sandwich, and dug into a report on Chinese trade negotiations. She
finally dropped into bed shortly after
Monday, November 9th
"No? What do you
mean 'no'?" Dev scrawled her name at the bottom of a piece of paper and
handed it to one aide while another was briefing her about her next three
appointments.
Michael Oaks shook his
head, wishing he could say to President-elect Marlowe what Lauren had told her
publisher the day before. "She doesn't want the job, Dev." He
shrugged. "It's as simple as that."
Dev shot him a look.
"Nothing is ever 'as simple as that'. And you know it." She nodded
absently to her secretary, who was going around the room and taking coffee
orders from her staff. "Why doesn't she want it? No..." she told her
secretary. "That day is bad. Can we push it up to the twenty-first?"
Michael took a seat next
to the tall woman. "Strayer gave me a few lame reasons, but I think it
comes down to the fact that she just wasn't interested in writing your
biography."
"Then we need to
get her interested."
"Dev, what does it
matter? We can get someone else. Someone better. I know you love her work, but
the woman didn't even vote for you, for God's sake!"
Now that got
Dev's attention, and she looked up from her electronic organizer.
Her customary smile slid
from her face. "What do you mean she didn't vote for me? Why not?"
Michael nodded his
thanks when a pot of coffee was set down in front of him and Dev, then moved
his elbows to make room for a mammoth stack of papers. "Didn't you read
the report on her?" He poured Dev a cup, then one for himself, drawing in
a deep, appreciative sniff of the strong aroma.
"I looked at
it," Dev said, her brow furrowing. Okay, I looked at her picture.
Shit.. "Jane?" Blue eyes scanned the crowded room.
"Here it is,
Dev." Jane, Dev's personal secretary, thrust a manila folder into Dev's
hand.
Twin eyebrows rose.
"You frighten me sometimes, Jane. You do realize this, don't you?"
The plump woman smiled
and winked. "After fifteen years, I know you better than you know
yourself, Devlyn Marlowe." Her grin broadened. "And I can't wait to
be President of the
The room exploded in
laughter, with Dev joining in. "And a wonderful President you'll make,
too. Just give a me a little bump if I ever get in your way."
Dev took a sip of hot
coffee and plucked a blueberry bagel from a loaded tray that was now circling
the room. She opened the file. Who are you, Lauren Strayer? And why did you
turn me down? The room faded away as she began to concentrate on the words
before her. She speed read the coversheet bio before tackling the report in
toto.
Subject: Lauren Anna
Strayer
D.O.B.:
Ht.: 5'6" Wt.: 124
Eyes: Gray Hair: Blonde
Dev's eyes scanned
beyond the address, non-remarkable medical history, lack of criminal history
and employment information.
Marital Status: Divorced
(dates of marriage
Family: No children, no
siblings, no significant other, parents: still living
Her thoughts stopped
there for a moment. Sounds lonely.
Education: BA in
History, minor in English Literature,
Devlyn laughed as she
read about the eleven outstanding parking tickets the City of
She flipped to the back
of the file for the supplemental information she knew would be there, quickly
examining a photograph of Lauren's ex-husband, Judd Radison, an architect
living in Chicago who had remarried two months after his divorce from Lauren.
He now had a two-and-a-half-year-old-son. Dev did the math and stifled a curse.
Cheating rat bastard. She decided to shred his picture later, too.
She frowned when there
were no photographs of Lauren's parents, but the brief report indicated Howard
Strayer was a retired plumber and 45-year member, and former Union Steward, for
the American Plumbers'
When Dev looked up from
her reading, ten minutes later, she was alone in the conference room. Empty
cups were everywhere, paper plates were strewn around the room and for the
first time she noticed the ticking beeping of an alarm that had been set to
remind her of her first appointment. Her coffee was cold, and she pushed the
cup away with distaste.
Devlyn shuffled back to
the first page of the file and, taking a large bite of her bagel, she picked up
her phone.
* * *
Lauren began rooting
around in her purse, finally finding a small mirror. "Auto drive on.
Preset destination number 12. 4213." Lauren dropped her hand from the
wheel and pushed her seat back as the car signaled and made a smooth lane
change. She glanced at her watch. She was already late. "Increase speed by
10 miles per hour. 4213." She waited for the expected warning beep, then
overrode the automatic speed control system with a voice command. "Speed
override approved. 4213."
Holding up a small hand
mirror, she applied a light coat of pale lipstick. She jumped when her phone
rang, causing her to smear her chin with a streak of pink. "Uck." She
snagged a tissue from a holder between the seats, and let the phone continue to
ring as she wiped her face. On the fifth ring she answered, "Hello."
"Hello," a
strong but decidedly female voice burred. "Is this Ms. Lauren
Strayer?"
Lauren held the phone
away from her face and stared at it as though she'd never seen it before. I
know that voice.
"Hello? Ms.
Strayer?"
Lauren pressed the
receiver back to her ear, impressed, despite the fact that she truly didn't
want to be. "This..." She cleared her throat gently. "This is
Lauren Strayer."
Dev smiled, easily
picking up on the younger woman's surprise and instantly loving the sweet,
Southern drawl. "I'm glad to be talking with you myself. Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm..."
"The President of
the
"President-elect,
actually." Devlyn kicked her feet up on the table, wishing that her
always-ravenous staff hadn't scarfed down all the bagels. She found herself
wanting another. "You spoke with my aide, Michael Oaks, yesterday?"
Lauren nodded. "I
did." Her shock began to give way to remembered anger. "And I don't
appreciate being strong-armed," she said, her tone suddenly cool.
Dev sat up straight, her
feet sliding from the table and striking the ground with a loud thud.
"What do you mean 'strong-armed'?" What did you do, Michael?!
"Why else was Mr.
Oaks accompanied by Mighty Joe Young?"
Mighty Joe Young? Dev closed her eyes. Oh, God.
Tell me he didn't bring Francis. "Could you be referring to Francis
Davies? The very intense and unfortunate Secret Service agent, whose head
happens to grow directly out of his shoulders?"
A laugh escaped Lauren,
and she clamped down on it with the palm of her hand. A politician with a
genuine sense of humor? It's snowing in hell. "That name sounds
familiar," she offered noncommittally, not bothering to wipe the smile off
her face.
"Then please allow
me to immediately apologize. I'm certain that Francis' presence wasn't intended
to intimidate." Please don't ask me why else he was there then.
Lauren held the phone
out again and looked at it, wishing could see Devlyn Marlowe's face. She
sounded sincere enough. "Perhaps I misunderstood then," she heard
herself say.
"Ms. Strayer, your
work is both intelligent and insightful. I'm a huge fan."
Lauren was surprised
again by Dev's enthusiastic praise and felt her cheeks growing warm.
"Th... Thank you." What she didn't know was that Dev was sporting a
matching blush on the other end of the phone.
The President-elect
mentally scolded herself for sounding like a star-struck teenager. "I need
your help. I'm in a very unique position, Ms. Strayer. One that needs to be
skillfully and, more importantly, accurately recorded." Dev's alarm went
off, and she swatted at it with an irritated hand.
"I couldn't agree
more."
Dark eyebrows lifted in
surprise. "Then you'll do it?" People started filing into the
conference room.
"I didn't say
that."
Devlyn sighed in
frustration. "Please, Ms. Strayer, help me out here. I've got a meeting in
two minutes. Tell me what I need to do to get you to say yes."
Lauren's car came to a
stop outside the public library and waited dutifully for her to give the
command to kill the ignition. "I don't think there is anything you could
say," she replied honestly. "I'm flattered. Really, I am." And
curious as hell. "But I don't want to have my copy ghost written by
the Emancipation Party President. That's not the type of work I do. I'd be
happy to recommend someone..."
"What are you
talking about?"
Lauren could hear the
puzzlement in Devlyn's voice.
"That's not what I
want." What did Michael say to you?
The writer blew out a
breath, wanting to believe the other woman, but knowing better. "You say that
now. But..."
"But nothing! I
don't want a 'yes man' for the party. The party is paying you because I
couldn't see asking the taxpayers to do it. And if I paid you myself it would
call your professionalism into question, would it not?"
Lauren leaned forward,
listening intently. "Yes, it would."
"I want someone
with honesty and integrity and real talent. I want you, Ms Strayer. You'd have
free rein to write whatever you see fit." Dev waved in the woman who she
hoped would be the next head of the Department of Health and Human Services.
Cursing the time, she spoke rapidly. "I'm giving you full access to
everything and complete editorial control of the content. You're only
constraint will be working within the bounds of reasonable National Security."
Dev laughed. "And keeping up with me."
Lauren stared at the
phone for the third time, not believing what she was hearing.
Dev held up a single
finger, indicating to her people in the room she'd be just one more minute, as
the last person sat down at the table and Jane closed the conference room door.
The dark-haired woman turned her back to her guests and crossed her fingers.
"Was that what you needed to hear, Ms. Strayer?"
Lauren nodded dumbly. Full
access? Editorial control? And a 'subject' who is making history with
every thing she does? "Yeah." She swallowed hard. "That was
what I needed to hear."
~~~~~~~~~
Madam President
Chapter
I
January
2021
Thursday, January 21st
Dev took a deep breath and looked at
David McMillian, her oldest and most trusted friend, and the new White House
Chief of Staff. She'd known him since her undergraduate days at Harvard. They'd
studied and even roomed together for a semester, before Dev meet Samantha.
Their time together cemented a friendship that had become a permanent fixture
in both their lives.
While Devlyn's political
aspirations put her squarely in the spotlight, David was more than content to
play behind the scenes, where he often, and only half-jokingly, reminded Dev,
the realpower lay.
Dev reached out and
grasped the cool metal knob, an astonished smile playing on her lips. "We
did it."
"Yes, we did, Madam
President."
"Cut that
out." She scoffed at the title coming from him. They were beyond things
like that, at least in private. And David knew it. But still, she was fun to
tweak. "Or I'll make you call me Wonder Woman."
The tall, red-haired man
scratched his jaw, and his tobacco brown eyes went slightly round.
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
It was just after dawn,
and the offices were empty, an almost haunting quiet surrounding them. This was
just the way Dev had wanted it to be the first time she and David entered the
Oval Office as the President and the Chief of Staff. It had taken a horde of
people to get her here. But without the support of her best friend she never
would have made it. It was only appropriate that they should savor this moment
alone together.
She pushed the door open
but didn't step inside. David smiled broadly and gestured. "After you,
Wonder Woman."
"Smartass."
She stepped into the
office and took a deep breath, stopping in the middle of the room to enjoy
every crazy emotion, soaking in the pure thrill of it all. An almost giddy
laugh worked its way up from her chest. She turned around and found David
standing behind 'the chair'.
He gave her a grin and
patted the soft leather. "Come on. Try it out."
"I'm almost afraid
to," she admitted. "It's like, if I try to sit in that chair, I'll
wake up from the dream, and it'll all be gone."
"Nah. It's real.
You're here. And it's never gonna be the same again. You've already made
history, Madam President. Now let's give 'em four years they'll never
forget."
Devlyn took another
slightly shaky breath and made her way to the chair, sinking into the soft
leather with an inaudible sigh. She spread her hands over the desk in front of
her, feeling the cool, smooth surface under her palms. "I am the President
of the
"Yes, you are."
David sucked in a breath, biting the edge of his thick red mustache, fully
aware of the power of the moment.
She blinked and stared
across the room with unseeing eyes. "I've lost my mind."
"Yes, you
have." David cleared his throat. "I'll leave you now, so that you can
get your personal things out." He gestured as he moved back to the door.
"They're in those two white boxes in the corner."
"Thanks,
David." She looked up. "Hey, if we don't hate this too much, are we
going for eight?"
"Ask me in two years.
Have a good day, Madam President."
"David!" she
called after him.
He poked his head back
around the door. "Yes?"
"Thank you for
getting me here."
"We did it
together, Dev." Her friend gave her a smile and left the office.
Monday, January 25th
Dev had quickly adjusted
to the flock of people that always seemed to be on her heels no matter where
she was going. It was a lot like being Governor only to the nth degree.
Luckily, she had long ago learned to listen to everyone at once. Now, if
someone could scare me up a good corned beef on rye without my having to fly
back to
"You have a meeting
with the Secretary of Energy at
Dev had learned early in
her political career never to wear a watch. People read way too much into the
gesture of glancing at the timepiece, which she tended to do often if she wore
one. "What time is it now?" Dev eyed the door to the Oval Office,
which was growing larger and larger with every step. She hoped to make it
inside before someone declared war.
"
"Remind me about
the meeting at
"Yes, ma'am. You
have an appointment now as well. With Lauren Strayer."
The President stopped
dead in her tracks, turning to the young woman on her heels who nearly crashed
into her. "Is that today?"
"Yes, ma'am. It was
set for
Dev winced, and then
suddenly became very aware of her appearance. "Damn." She gave
herself a quick once over, straightening her jacket and smoothing back long,
ebony locks. "Do I look all right?"
The young woman's mind
derailed at the sudden change of topic. "Umm... of course," she
stammered. "I mean... yes, ma'am. You look fine."
"Good." She
handed all the files back to Liza, then wiped her palms on her slacks, chiding
herself for her nervousness. "How long is this scheduled to go?"
"Half an hour,
ma'am."
Dev pursed her lips.
That simply wouldn't do. "Push everything back and give me an hour here.
I'm gonna need it."
"Yes, ma'am."
Liza opened her notebook. This was only her second day, and she'd already
figured out that the President was always going to need some wiggle room in her
schedule. "That means you won't get back to the residence until sometime
after
"If I'm
lucky," Dev grumbled as she stood in front of the door to her office and
waited for an immaculately dressed man to let her in. She wondered if she'd
ever become accustomed to people whose sole purpose appeared to be to open
doors for her. Okay. There's nothing to be nervous about. You respect her
work. All right... you love her work. So what? You've met accomplished people
before. Dev drew in a deep breath. She was an expert at burying how she
felt. "I'll be ready to move on in an hour." She reached over and
tugged on Liza's sleeve. "Do me a favor and find me a corned beef
sandwich, huh? The food they served at the luncheon wasn't even close to
edible."
"Right away. What
about...?" Liza gestured to the door.
"Oh, yeah." Where
are my manners? "Hold on." Dev squared her shoulders and walked
into the Oval Office, pushing aside the immediate thrill she felt just from
entering the room. That's when the dark-haired woman got her first real life
glimpse of Lauren Strayer. Wow. Not just cute. Dev mentally amended her
assessment of Lauren's looks, based on her photograph. Beautiful. Dev
cleared her throat gently, and the writer's head turned, slate gray eyes
fastening on Dev's face. Dev's lips immediately curled into a smile, and she
greeted Lauren warmly while remaining at the door. "Hi. I've been looking
forward to meeting you. I'll be right with you, I promise. I'm just making sure
I get enough sustenance to keep from passing out." She stopped and took a
breath. Okay, I usually don't talk that quickly. "Would you like a
sandwich?"
Lauren practically
jumped to her feet. She hadn't even heard President Marlowe come in. It had
taken her all of two seconds to commit her first breach of White House etiquette.
"Hi." God, television does not do her justice.
Devlyn was wearing
fashionably wide-legged, worsted wool trousers in the darkest of greens.
Underneath a jacket that matched the slacks was a sleek-looking metallic silver
turtleneck that complemented Dev's lightly tanned complexion and glossy black
hair. She had the body of a track star, long and lean, with endless legs.
Lauren's eyes widened as she realized she hadn't heard a word past 'Hi.' Her
mind raced frantically. Shit! I know her lips were moving!
Devlyn wondered at the
sudden look of confusion coloring the younger woman's face. "
Right. That was it. "No, thank you, Madam
President. I already had lunch." The few bites that the bat-sized
butterflies in my stomach would allow, that is.
Sweet Southern
accent. "Do you mind if I indulge? The NRA failed in its attempt to poison
me over lunch. And I'm..."
"Of course,
Madam President." Lauren smiled and tucked a strand of pale behind her
ear. She slid off her glasses and began absently gnawing on the tip of one
earpiece as Dev turned around.
Just like Christopher
wears, the President mused. The boy was always fiddling with his glasses. Dev
smiled again. He'd like knowing someone else who wore them too. A lot. Glasses
were unusual nowadays, and she knew Chris hated wearing them, despite the fact
that the lenses would actually correct his near-sightedness, so that he
wouldn't have to wear them at all in a few years.
"Thanks,"
Dev said over her shoulder, breathing a slight sigh of relief. Yes! She's not
mad that I'm late. "I swear, I'll be right back." With that, Dev
pulled the door closed and stepped back out into the outer office. "One
sandwich and one hour," she told Liza, who was now explaining some White
House protocol to Jane Shultz, Dev's longtime secretary. The President gave
Jane a small wave and received a sympathetic smile in return.
"One sandwich,
fifty-six minutes." Liza grinned tentatively and tapped her large-faced,
gold watch.
Dev raised an
eyebrow, glad, and a little surprised, that the young woman was already growing
more at ease with her. Everyone had begun this new administration in a way that
was almost painfully formal, and although it was to be expected, and wholly
appropriate, it wasn't making her own adjustment any easier.
"Right.
Thanks." Dev re-entered her office. Leaning her shoulders against the door
to close it, her eyes slid shut and she exhaled a long, slow breath. The breath
turned into a happy whimper when the heavy door clicked shut, effectively
locking away the rest of a very demanding world for another fifty-five minutes.
Lauren, who stood
behind one of the rich leather chairs that sat in the center of the room,
looked appropriately amused. Her hands restlessly rubbed at the back of the
chair, and it looked as though she was trying very hard to stifle a laugh.
Dev stood up
straight, intent on recovering at least a shred of her Presidential demeanor.
But one look into understanding, even slightly indulgent eyes, and she gave up
instantly, grinning as she slumped back against the door. "Tell you what,
let's make a deal right now. You let me be myself when we're alone, and we both
might make it through the next few years without going insane." She smiled
at Lauren's intently interested look. "Besides, if I have to be the
President of the United States all of the time, the book's gonna be crap, and
we both know it."
"Deal."
Lauren was grinning now, but her smile quickly faded. "Does 'you' being
'you' equal 'off the record'?" Oh, boy. Here it comes. The biographer
instantly chastised herself for not listening to her first instincts and
turning down this assignment.
Dev pushed away from
the door. Padding over to the leather sofa across from Lauren, she gracelessly
dropped into it, sighing with satisfaction. "Nope," she replied
blithely, gesturing for Lauren to retake her seat. "The good, the bad, and
the ugly of my life are an open book to you, Ms. Strayer." Unexpectedly,
the President's voice grew serious, and she leveled a frank stare at the
writer; one that caused her to lean forward as she listened. "My children,
however..."
"You don't have
to be concerned about that, Madam President," Lauren interrupted urgently.
"I would never invade their privacy. As far as your biography is
concerned, they are only relevant in the ways that they directly affect
you."
Dev looked at her
curiously and barked out a tiny laugh. "Well, that would be in just about
every way, wouldn't it?"
Lauren was about to
disagree, but stopped herself. Shut up, Lauren. It's not like you have kids.
Well, at least ones that don't occasionally drink from the toilet. No
assumptions, remember?
The writer's first
biography had been of Karina Jacobs, the star of the 2016 Olympics who had been
born in
Lauren's second
biography had been of Peter Orlosky, the mega-nerd who had brought down the
Microsoft empire with his single, non-proprietary operating system. It could
handle everything from the desktop computer to the largest global networks –
instantly resolving the problems of interoperability that had plagued computer
and network operations people for years. Not only was he unmarried and childless,
but Lauren was pretty damned sure he'd never even had sex. With another human
being, that is. But ultimately that tidbit didn't make it into his biography
because she figured everyone could figure that out just by looking at or
listening to Peter. She certainly didn't need to tell them.
And, finally, her
most recent biographical subject had been Cardinal O'Roarke. While she was
certain that he and his long time male secretary, Andre Ricardo, had a very
up-close and personal relationship... as far as she could tell, he had never,
literally, fathered any children. So how exactly could she know how President
Marlowe's children affected her?
"Let me rephrase
that..." Lauren tried again, her tone every bit as serious as Devlyn's.
But unconsciously her gaze had softened. "You can trust me to know what's
private in your children's lives... and what could hurt them. I promise,"
she swore intently.
Dev nodded. "If
I weren't already certain of that, you wouldn't be here, Ms. Strayer. I don't
take chances with the well being of my babies."
Lauren smiled
engagingly, slightly taken aback by the President's choice of words. 'My
babies'... so personal. Maternal. For some reason, I didn't think she'd be that
way. "But I'd be pleased if you felt like you could be relaxed and be
yourself around me, despite my job." She raised a playful eyebrow at the
woman who was comfortably reclining in front of her, with pleasure so complete
it bordered on sensual... "I can see how hard that will be for you,"
Lauren teased gently.
Dev laughed, glad
that her genuine nervousness didn't appear to be showing. "Good. Because
this," she laid her hand on her abdomen and, as if on cue, it growled
ferociously, "is me... tired, hungry," she glanced at one of the
several clocks mounted on the wall, her eyes quickly finding the one showing
the correct time zone, "and a little late."
She's a talker. Thank
you, God!
"I really wanted
to make a good first impression. But being late kinda blew that, didn't
it?" Dev inquired sheepishly.
She wanted to impress
me? Lauren cocked her head slightly to the side as she regarded the leader of
the free world with ever-growing curiosity. "Some would say so." But
I wouldn't happen to be among them. You make a charming first impression,
President Devlyn Marlowe. But I'll bet you already knew that.
"Then I guess
all I can do is say I'm sorry, and hope you can find it in your heart to
forgive me." A flash of white teeth brought Dev's face to life.
The writer's mind was
already spinning, weaving a tapestry with words that would eventually form a
picture of Devlyn herself. And there was one word that Lauren could already see
was going to pop up again and again when it came to President Devlyn Marlowe.
Charisma... in spades. It fairly oozed from the tall woman's pores. But it was
in an understated kind of way that was both compelling and alluring. "I
think under the circumstances, I can forgive you, Madam President."
"Thanks."
The tall woman scooted forward a little on the sofa and leaned forward, her
arms resting on her thighs with her fingers interlaced. What she really wanted
to do was ask the writer about some of her work... especially a few pieces that
had been written under the pseudonym Lauren Gallager.
But now wasn't the
time to be a goofy fan. There was still one major wrinkle to iron out that Dev
had saved for a face to face discussion. Something she hoped would give this
biography a sense of intimacy and candor that she found lacking in so many
others. Just ask her Dev. The worst she can say is 'no'. Well, that's not quite
true. She could laugh, accuse you of being insane and wanting to micromanage
her work, and then say 'no'. "You just arrived in town this morning?"
the Dev began casually.
Lauren shook her
head. "Last night. The Emancipation Party is putting me up at the
Hay-Adams Hotel."
"And your room
is nice? You like it there, I mean?"
A wry smile wanted to
twitch at Lauren's lips, but she felt a tiny kernel of worry germinate in her
belly. Where is she going with this? "Well, it's Italian Renaissance. Not
exactly the Motel-6, but somehow I'm making do," she said drolly.
"Good...
good." Dev missed the joke. She was too wrapped up in what she was about
to ask. "I, um... well, actually, I had something a little closer in mind.
I mean, if you're going to follow me around on anything like a regular basis,
you'll need to be close." That was brilliant. Duh.
Pale eyebrows lifted.
"The Hay-Adams is less than 3 blocks away. Any closer and I'd be residing
in your back pocket."
"Hmm...
true..." Shut up, Dev. God, don't scare her off now. "Okay, maybe not
my back pocket, but how about in residence with me and my family?"
Lauren's jaw sagged.
"Inside the White House?"
Dev grinned.
"I've found inside the White House to be far more comfortable than outside
the White House. The park benches around here suck." When Lauren didn't
answer Dev pressed on. "Look, if you really want to get to know me and
understand what I do, you're going to have to tag along after me. And you can't
very well do that from the Hay-Adams Hotel. I don't exactly keep regular hours,
and there simply isn't enough time in the day for a lot of one-on-one research
discussions." And, while that was true, Dev knew instantly that if Lauren
Strayer asked, she'd make time for her anytime she wanted.
"I, umm... Madam
President, I don't know what to say," she admitted honestly. Sure it would
make things interesting, but Lauren knew she needed her privacy. She wasn't at
all sure that she could stand living in more of a fish bowl than she was already
subjecting herself to.
"Living here is
the only way to really know what I do," she said reasonably. "It
doesn't have to be for the entire term. Just until you feel like you've got a
good handle on my day-to-day life." C'mon, Lauren, say yes. Lauren's head
began to sway slightly, and Dev knew she was considering it. She went in for
the kill. "I want a totally honest and accurate accounting of the first
term of office for the first female, American President. I don't take my legacy
lightly, Ms. Strayer. The easiest way for me to give you full access is to have
you nearby. I don't want to pull any punches."
"Do you really
want that?" Lauren asked curiously. Giving her editorial control of the
book was an enormous risk, and she knew it.
Sky blue eyes
fastened on Lauren's with an almost painful honesty. "Yes. I really
do."
Lauren found it
nearly impossible to disbelieve the President's words. Damn, I'll bet that
comes in handy in her profession. But a tiny part of the writer still found
this opportunity too good to be true. "And no one is going to be
whispering in my ear, telling me what to write?"
The President smiled.
Don't even go there, Dev. Keep your mouth shut. "I promise you I won't
censure you in any way. And once the book is done, as long as nothing concerning
national security is revealed, I won't ask you to make any changes. There may
be a few others that make requests of you... but you can take them on as you
see fit."
"You'll back me
up?"
"One hundred
percent." It wasn't lost on Devlyn that Lauren hadn't agreed to move into
residence yet. But she was thinking about it. And something inside the
President told her that this was a woman who didn't respond well to being
pushed.
There was a gentle
knock on the door, and Dev dragged her gaze away from her guest.
"Come in."
A lunch table for two
was rolled in and quickly set up. "Anything else, Madam President?" a
young blond waiter asked, managing to sneak a peek at Lauren while he prepared
the table.
"No. I think
we're all set." Dev looked over at Liza, who was grinning. It was obvious
the assistant had ordered lunch for two. The President gave her a smile and a
wink. She nodded, and the small group left the room, once again leaving the two
women alone. "Are you sure you won't join me? I can see that my first executive
order for one sandwich was completely ignored." She laughed. "There's
plenty. Everyone around here has been trying to feed me for days."
Dev took a large bite
and groaned with undisguised ecstasy.
Lauren swallowed
hastily. "Well, if you insist."
Devlyn waved toward
the other sandwich and took another bite, the smell of corned beef and
horseradish wafting up to her nose. She drew in a deep, satisfied sniff. Liza
is getting a raise already. I'm in heaven.
The writer took a
bite, and immediately mimicked Dev's reaction with a happy groan. "Oh,
god," she mumbled, licking the corners of her lips. "This is so
good."
Lauren's mind firmly
told her living in the White House would give her fabulous access to the
President, but would wreak havoc on her ability to keep a professional distance
from her subject. She firmly told her mind to shut up. She held up half a
sandwich. "Will I get more of these if I say yes?"
Dev suddenly stopped
chewing and glanced up from her plate. "As many as you want," she
promised seriously.
Lauren picked up her
napkin and slid it over her knees. "Then set me up with a room, Madam
President. It's looks like you'll be having a guest for a while."
"Excellent!"
Dev's honest pleasure was written all over her face. "And my name is Devlyn
or Dev, not Madam President."
Unaccountably, the
blonde woman felt a blush rising to her cheeks. "Then please call me
Lauren."
Dev extended her hand
and when Lauren's found hers, she squeezed firmly, absorbing its warmth with
idle pleasure. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lauren."
"The pleasure is
mine, Devlyn." Lauren exhaled and refocused on her sandwich as a knot that
she didn't even know existed, unraveled in her guts. "So... I know you
must have nearly as many questions for me as I do for you."
Dev smirked and
picked up a crunchy, cold pickle. "Yeah. How does someone rack up eleven
parking tickets in two days?"
This time Lauren's
blush was pronounced. "How... how did you know about that?" she
mumbled in embarrassment.
Twin dark eyebrows
lifted. Dev took a bite of pickle, enjoying its salty, tart flavor. "Do I
really need to answer that?"
Lauren scratched just
above her brow. "No, I guess you really don't. Let's just say it started
with a really bad day."
"That ended two
days later?"
Lauren chuckled.
"Something like that." She picked up the bottle of spring water that
was resting in a small bucket of ice and poured it into a crystal glass.
"I had a day
like that once. It lasted for almost a week." Dev reached for a coffee
carafe that was much closer to Lauren than her, and the smaller woman
immediately intercepted Dev's hands with her own.
"Let me do
that." She picked up the carafe and poured two cups, deciding she could
probably use some as well. "How do you take it?"
"Black. And I'm
praying it's strong. Thank you," Dev said as she took the cup from
Lauren's outstretched hand. "How about you? How do you take your coffee? I
want to know in case I need to get you a cup sometime."
"Cream and two
sugars." Lauren poured in a little cream and began hunting for a teaspoon,
which magically appeared right in front of her face. "Thanks." She
smiled and plucked the spoon from Dev's fingers. "But somehow I can't see
the President of the
"Hmm..."
Dev begrudgingly nodded. "You're right, the President probably wouldn't.
But Dev Marlowe will."
Tuesday, January 26th
The early morning
meeting with her staff was just about ready to break up when Devlyn remembered
something very important. "By the way," she straightened in her
wingback, "I met with Lauren Strayer yesterday afternoon, and from now on
she'll be attending these meetings. For those of you who don't know
already..." Every set of eyes in the room turned downward, and Dev sighed
loudly, mildly annoyed but not surprised. "Okay, you gossip hounds already
know this, but I'm announcing it anyway. Ms. Strayer is going to be chronicling
this term in office and will be moving into the residence today. Isn't that
right, Michael?" Dev arched a challenging eyebrow in the direction of
Michael Oaks, who nodded resignedly.
He'd tried to talk
the President out of it. But the stubborn woman wasn't budging. There was
something about Lauren Strayer he simply didn't like. Not only had she
arrogantly refused his offer in
Dev took her last sip
of coffee and carefully sat her cup back on its china saucer. "Ms. Strayer
will be starting her assignment today. She has full privileges and complete
access. Please be kind to her." This last part was delivered with a joking
tone, but no one in the room doubted the sincerity of the request. The
President looked around at the staff. "Anything else?"
The Chief of Staff
glanced around the various faces in the room. Some were new to both him and
Dev, but a few were loyal friends.
"We should do an
announcement about Ms. Strayer being hired to write your memoirs," Press
Secretary Sharon Allen stated firmly, opening her notebook and jotting down a
few preliminary ideas. The fact that she didn't look thrilled about the
prospect wasn't lost on Dev. It wasn't that Lauren wasn't qualified. True, she
was God awful young. Her work, however, was well respected. But that didn't
mean she had to live in the residence. Press Secretary Allen began to get
slightly dizzy from the horrific scenarios that were playing out in her head.
Someone older and fatter would have been a much safer choice.
"Ooo... I'm thirty-eight,
not eighty-eight. And that makes me sound as old as the hills." Dev
shifted in her chair, regretting the fact that she'd chosen a skirt instead of
slacks today. "Biography has a less ancient ring to it, don't you
think?" She gave Press Secretary Allen a pleading look.
The room filled with
easy laughter, and Jane, who was standing against the back wall, shook her
head. Dev was such a pain in the butt sometimes. God love her.
"Let's just call
it a biography,
Everyone stood up
when the President did and began to file out of the room, ready to start their
incredibly busy days. The door closed, leaving behind Dev, Liza and the Chief
of Staff. David looked at the young woman and silently asked for a moment alone
with the boss.
David smiled when she
tapped her watch. Dev had a breakfast meeting with several members of the
Democratic and Republican Parties, including the ultra-conservative Speaker of
the House, this morning. He almost felt sorry for her. She had the unparalleled
pleasure of facing two parties that resented and distrusted her. But that's the
price she paid when she willingly joined a third party. David had always
thought life would have been much easier if Dev had just stayed a Democrat.
Liza slipped out of
the office quietly.
"Madam
President?"
"Yes,
David." Dev sighed, resting her head in her hand.
"I've got to
tell you, I think Ms. Strayer being in residence is going to cause problems for
you, Dev. Once the press gets wind of it, she's going to become more than an
employee hired to write a book."
"You sound like
Michael now. And I don't intend to tell the press she's in residence here. If
it becomes an issue, we'll deal with it then."
David rolled his
eyes. "It'll take the press all of one or two days to figure it out. If
that," he snorted. "And trust me, it will be an issue. A single,
openly lesbian President moves in an attractive, single, female
biographer..."
"You forgot very
'straight', single, well-respected biographer."
David put his hands
on his hips. "And just how do you know she's straight? Did you ask
her?"
"Uhh... buu...
ahh..." Dev's mouth worked, but no words came out. "What?!"
"Because I read
that report, Dev. And I don't recall it mentioning any particular sexual
orientation."
"But she was
married to a man!" Dev blurted out a millisecond before covering her eyes
with the palms of both hands. She shook her head furiously. "God, I can't
believe I just said that."
David laughed.
"Dev, whether Ms. Strayer is, in actuality, straight or gay isn't really
the issue. Assumptions will be made. And you're both single, and you've got
three kids. You know what the conservatives will do when they..."
"Fuck the
conservatives!" Dev hissed, suddenly angry. She had long ago grown tired
of their painting her as the worst mother since Joan Crawford. "You know I
don't give a shit about them."
"But you
should," David insisted. He'd lost this argument a hundred times, but he
never stopped trying. "They're out there, and they're not going
away."
Dev leaned back
against the edge of the table. "Besides, I may be single, but I'm also
still in mourning over my murdered spouse..."
David's brown eyes
softened. "I know, Dev. But we're talking about perceptions, not
reality." He swallowed, wondering if he should go further. "Umm...
you know Samantha wouldn't want you to mourn her forever."
Dev's shoulders
slumped, and her voice dropped to an anguished whisper. "I know."
David moved over to
the tall woman and sat alongside her. "Look, I don't want to argue. I know
how important it is to you that this book be done right... but when this comes
back to bite you in the ass... and it will," he smirked a little, "I'm
going to be right here to say 'I told you so'."
"Like
always?" Dev teased weakly.
"Exactly."
He patted her thigh, a little surprised to feel skin. Why is she wearing a
skirt? She hates skirts.
"Well, if moving
Lauren into the residence, so she can work, is the worst thing to come back and
bite me in the ass, I'll consider this a very successful month."
"It won't take a
month."
Dev ignored David's
pessimism and turned around, pulling over a couple of documents Liza had set in
front of her earlier. She felt around in her blazer pockets, and David deftly
handed her a shiny, metal pen. "We're talking legitimate press. The
Inquisitor and the other scandal sheets don't count, David."
"The legit press
will pick it up if it's hot enough. And we all know that if three of the
scandal sheets pick up the story of Lauren living in the residence at the same
time, it must be true. It's a law... like gravity or Murphy's."
Dev laughed to
herself and stuffed David's pen into her pocket, rubbing her thumb along the
warm metal. "It is true, Mr. Smarty Pants. Try to remember that."
* * *
Lauren sat down on
her new bed, in her new room, in her new house... the White House.
"Wow." She shook her head in amazement, allowing herself to absorb
where she was and what she had gotten herself into.
Since November, she'd
been on a continuous, whirlwind publicity tour for her last biography, making
the big push to drive up holiday sales and keep her publisher very, very happy.
That had left her with no time to even scratch the surface of who Devlyn
Marlowe was. And it left her feeling unusually insecure, slightly disconcerted
even, like the college student who had blown off studying for the big exam and
was now getting ready to pay the piper.
Lauren chided herself
for her worries. It's not like you don't know anything about her... Hell, her
face and those annoying, endless sound bites have been plastered all over your
TV for the past six months. But the writer did admit to herself that the
President was a lot more palatable when she wasn't being crammed down your
throat. Okay, more than palatable. Nice, really.
She exhaled slowly.
Lauren had finally been left alone for more than ten seconds at a stretch, her
curious gaze unhampered by Secret Service agents and the milling, ever-present
White House staff. It gave her a moment to order the mental snapshots she'd
been taking since she met Devlyn. Although she itched to get her hands on her
camera.
The thrill here, in
this place, was the same she'd gotten when she was permitted inside some of the
most private, holy areas of the Vatican while doing Cardinal O'Roarke's
biography. Her stomach fluttered in a cross between nervousness and raw
excitement, her palms moist and cool even as her keen intellect began
cataloging information. But her tour of the
Her gaze glided
across gleaming, Colonial style, cherry wood furnishings and the rich oil
paintings of previous Presidents in heavy wooden frames that adorned the walls.
The room was nearly as big as her entire apartment back home. And while it
didn't have a kitchen or laundry room, it did have what amounted to a full
bedroom, a well-stocked bar, and sitting area, complete with two small sofas
that faced each other across a short, delicate-looking coffee table.
The bed was so tall
that Lauren's feet barely touched the floor when she sat on the edge of the
firm mattress. Predictably, it was a four-poster model made from the same
cherry wood that dominated the room. Its deep, rich shine was so brilliant that
Lauren could see her distorted reflection winking back at her when she looked
at it. She immediately lifted her hand and ran her finger across it, smudging
it with the same weird delight a kid gets when he rolls around in a pristine
bank of even, white snow, happily making his mark by destroying its almost
unnatural perfection.
A slender, matching
dresser, nightstand with brass handles, and massive armoire flanked the bed. On
the nightstand, in a cut crystal vase, sat two dozen long-stemmed, yellow
roses, their gentle fragrance filling the room and mingling with the scent of
wood polish. Long, cream-colored curtains that matched the impossibly soft
comforter had been pulled open a few feet and tied with a gold sash, allowing
the early evening's moonlight to spill in through the frosty glass.
Her few boxes had
been unpacked by White House staffers, after, of course, everything had been
properly inspected, X-rayed, sniffed and scanned... and that included her Pug,
Gremlin, who was scampering around her feet, trying furiously to jump up onto
the too tall bed. Lauren was actually surprised the little dog didn't glow by
now.
"I must be
dreaming, Gremlin." But, God, talk about pressure. "I hope I'm this
good." Lauren blew pale golden hair off her forehead with a puff of warm
air. An incredulous laugh bubbled up from inside her. "This is totally
surreal." The fingertips of one hand idly grazed the satiny-soft top of
the bed's comforter, while she leaned over and scratched Gremlin behind the
ears as the dog growled in pleasure.
Slate gray eyes
flecked with blue and green widened when the woman peered down at her watch and
realized that it was already time to meet Devlyn and be introduced to the
President's children. She wondered if they'd all be lined up like the Von Trapp
family, awaiting inspection from their Commander in Chief. Ewww... I hope not.
Lauren cringed. Plus, I can't sing for crap.
She was a little
nervous. Life as an only child hadn't prepared her for dealing with kids. And
always having your nose in a book when you were a child yourself, didn't help
make you Miss Popularity. Then again, she was pretty sure she wouldn't do
something embarrassing like lift up her shirt and show her boobies in exchange
for two Hershey bars and the window seat on the school bus. Again. A grin
tugged at her lips... of course that might depend on who was asking, and how
good the candy was. She decided not to rule anything out for the time being.
The writer stood up
and straightened the belt to her russet-colored slacks, sparing a wistful
thought for the blue jeans she didn't think she'd be seeing a lot of in the
next four years. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. Should I? She
thought for a moment then nodded. "I think we've got a minute, Grem. Let's
call him, huh?" Lauren chuckled. "Let's just hope this doesn't give
The second shelf of
the dark nightstand slid out, forming a small table, making the phone easily
accessible from the bed, but still keeping it mostly hidden from view, so as
not to spoil the decor of the room.
The blonde woman
opened her mouth to give the voice command to 'call', but stopped when she got
a good look at the smooth machine. It didn't have a voice box on the top.
"Huh." Must be a genuine old phone. Next she picked up the receiver
and stared at the cord, pulling at it a few times and looking slightly annoyed.
"Pain in the... okay, I can do it the hard way." She lifted the
receiver and flipped it over to press the button pad, but there wasn't one. In
fact, there was no visible way to call anyone.
Suddenly, a genuine
smile lit up Lauren's face. "Hot damn, Gremlin." The dog finally took
a running jump and was able to make it onto the bed. His tail wiggled furiously
in victory, and his beady, black eyes fixed on the object in his mistress' hand.
"It's the Bat Phone!"
A light knocking
sound drew Lauren and Gremlin's attention to the door. "Time to go meet
the miniature humans. Wish me luck, boy." She waggled her finger at the
mutt. "No... you can't come." She almost ordered him off the
beautiful comforter but shrugged instead. If she was going to live here, this
would be Grem's home too. And he'd be up there for bed tonight anyway.
"Just be careful," she pleaded, straightening the pillow Gremlin had
mashed in his excitement. "Martha Washington or somebody probably made
that. And I don't want to have to take out a loan to replace it."
The dog jumped to the
edge of the bed to follow her, but hesitated when he looked down at the floor.
He whined softly.
"Uh huh. Now
you're stuck, aren't you?" Lauren laughed as she made her way to the door.
"Serves you right."
She opened the door
to find Michael Oaks standing there. Lauren was vaguely disappointed. Why was I
expecting Devlyn? She looked over the slender black man's shoulder. "What?
No reinforcements this time?"
Michael stiffened at
her reference to his visit to
"Yes.... err...
no... just one minute." Lauren dashed back to the desk perched against the
wall opposite the bed. Digging into a bag, she pulled out a camera and quickly
slid in a fresh roll of film. She waited to click the cover closed before she
spoke. "Now I'm ready."
"You
can't..." He pointed toward the camera. "That's not..." he began
to sputter.
Lauren arched an
eyebrow. "Full access, Mr. Oaks. These will be for my own research
purposes, not for publication. And I already have David McMillian's full
permission. Do you outrank him?" she asked innocently, inwardly chuckling.
"Well, umm... of
course not." Michael's frustration began to mount. "But..."
"Get over
it." She looked back down at her watch. "We're going to be late.
Shall we continue to stand here and discuss it?" Lauren was fully aware of
how much she was annoying the aide, and she was loving every minute of it.
He gave her a
thin-lipped smile. Bitch. "So we are." He extended his arm, and
Lauren brushed past him, closing the door behind her. She hadn't taken two
steps when a surprisingly loud, prolonged howl rang out from inside her room.
Gray eyes slid
closed. Not now, Grem! Lauren bit her lip and turned back around to face
Michael, who looked appalled. "I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely.
"He's not used to his surroundings yet. Let me go calm him down. Or I
could bring him? We're only going a few doors down to see the kids,
right?"
"I'll have a
cage and muzzle delivered immediately."
Lauren stopped dead
in her tracks and turned icy eyes on the well-dressed man. "You can order
those things if you'd like. But they certainly won't be for Gremlin," she
ground out harshly.
"He can't
continue to howl like that."
Lauren's hands moved
to her hips. "Actually, he can."
"That's
unacceptable."
"I agree. I
should go get him."
"No,"
Michael said flatly.
Lauren sighed. God,
she was already tired of this person, and she'd only been living here for three
hours! "The apartment I had all picked out before my plans changed,
permitted pets. Gremlin is doing the best he can here."
"This isn't an
apartment complex."
"No, it's not.
And I don't have a problem with calling the apartment manager and seeing if the
place is still available," she shot back. "Look, Mr. Oaks, it isn't
as though there are a lot of options here. Either I leave him alone, and he
howls. Or I bring him with me, and he's quiet. Or I stay in the room with him
for a little while and get him settled down, and he's quiet. " Lauren
crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "Your call."
"Do you expect
that... that thing is going to have the run of the White House?!" Michael
was almost yelling now, his anger getting the best of him.
"No,"
Lauren answered evenly. "He'll calm down soon. He's used to traveling, but
he's only been here a few hours. Gremlin's also been poked, scanned, prodded,
and don't even get me started on that glowing, bright green liquid they made
him drink. Then they X-rayed him several times as though I had hidden a nuclear
bomb in his Dog Chow! He's only an animal. He can't be expected to endure
endless disruption and not react." With that, she marched back into the
room and sat down next to Gremlin.
"I thought we
had an appointment?" Dev poked her head into the room, acting as though she
hadn't heard the voices raised in anger. She had been waiting impatiently for
Lauren and finally came to seek her out. Michael scampered out of Devlyn's way.
Lauren jumped to her
feet. "We did... I... I'm sorry..."
"No
problem," the tall woman said casually, feeling a little guilty for her
childish impatience. But all throughout the day her mind kept drifting to
tonight. Well, tonight was here, dammit! She tilted her head toward the inside
of the room. "Can we come in?"
Lauren nodded dumbly
as Ashley, Christopher and Aaron raced in past their mother without giving the
writer a second glance. They headed straight to Gremlin, who managed to jump to
the floor with no problem whatsoever and began basking in their attention.
"Faker," the blonde woman mumbled.
"I told you I
heard a dog, Ash!" Aaron exclaimed excitedly, his hands fighting with the
other children's as Gremlin lay on his back, enjoying his belly scratching with
orgasmic delight. He even groaned.
"I hope he
didn't disturb you." Lauren approached Dev, relieved beyond measure that
she didn't seem to be angry. "He's only been here a couple of hours and
wasn't too happy about me leaving him so soon."
Dev smiled at her
kids and spoke to Lauren without turning her head. "Why didn't you just
bring him along then?" God, I know they're going to want their own dog
now. Maybe I am the meanest mother since 'Mommy Dearest'.
Lauren almost
laughed. She looked past Dev to Michael, who was still hovering in the doorway.
"Gee, what a great idea."
Michael turned on his
heel and left in a huff, but by that time no one was paying any attention to
him anyway.
"You look like
you're settling in," Dev commented. Actually, the room looked exactly the
same as it always did, except for a few boxes sitting on the desk.
Lauren glanced around
the room and gave a slight nod. "I am." She extended her hand toward
the sofas. "Won't you sit down?"
"Absolutely."
Dev flashed Lauren a smile. "You know how much I love to relax. But I
believe introductions are in order first." Both women looked down to find
the children on the floor with the dog, giggling as he licked their fingers.
Without thinking,
Lauren lifted her camera and crouched down, effortlessly snapping off several
quick shots.
"I'm
sorry." Dev sighed. "They were supposed to wait by me and be
introduced."
"Please."
Lauren waved a dismissive hand and chuckled, setting the camera on the coffee
table. "If I were them, I'd be far more interested in Gremlin, too."
Oh, I don't know
about that. You seem pretty interesting to me. "Kids?" Dev raised her
voice just a hair, and three sets of little eyes immediately snapped up.
"Uh oh,"
Ashley mumbled, pushing up to her feet. Christopher and Aaron quickly followed,
although the youngest boy's attention remained firmly divided between his
mother and the dog.
"We forgot to
wait at the door, Mom," Ashley admitted honestly, her toe twisting its way
into the carpet.
"I know you did.
We'll work on that later," Dev promised, but the words were tempered by an
indulgent smile. "Kids, this is Lauren Strayer. Ms. Strayer is going to be
writing a book about my time as President. We talked about how she's going to
be staying with us for a while."
"Nice to meet
you, Ms. Strayer," Ashley said politely, hoping she could make up for her
earlier mistake. Her brothers just nodded.
Lauren smiled.
"It's nice to meet you, too." She's a carbon copy of her mother,
except for the brown eyes. She gestured toward the floor. "And you've
already met Gremlin."
Christopher was
smiling so broadly that Dev feared he would fracture his cheeks. He
unconsciously pulled at the stems of his glasses, his gaze riveted to Lauren's
glasses.
Lauren caught his
obnoxiously pleased look and laughed gently, moving over to the children. Gray
eyes twinkled. "Yours are just like mine," she needlessly informed
Chris.
Chris nodded,
mesmerized.
Lauren chuckled again
and ruffled hair the same color as her own.
The little boy's face
turned brick red, and he suddenly ran for Devlyn, burying his head in her legs.
Lauren blinked.
"What did I...?"
"He's just a
little shy." Dev patted the boy's back. "No worries," she
assured, amused by the startled look that flickered across Lauren's face. She
hasn't been around children. Oh, boy. This is going to be interesting.
Aaron walked over to
Lauren and tugged on her pant leg, causing Lauren to drop to one knee so she
was level with his bright blue eyes. "I have a very important question to
ask you."
Lauren swallowed,
suddenly apprehensive. "You do?"
He nodded solemnly.
"Can we pet the dog again?"
Lauren burst out
laughing. "Umm..." She had barely dipped her head into a nod when the
kids, including Christopher, threw themselves down to the floor to pet Gremlin.
Bemused, the blonde woman stared at her pet. She stuck out a tongue at the
lounging dog. "Spoiled."
"I'd pay good
money to any PR firm that could get me a greeting like that," Dev
commented wryly.
"Oh, yeah."
Dev knelt down
alongside Lauren. She held her hand out to the dog. "Why, hello... Jesus
Christ!" She snatched her hand away when Gremlin growled unexpectedly,
showing two rows of tiny, uneven teeth.
"No. That name
was already taken," Lauren deadpanned.
Then, as though
Gremlin didn't have a care in the world, he yawned widely. His mouth clicked
shut, and he innocently resumed playing with the children.
Lauren's voice turned
scolding as she glared at her four-legged friend. "Gremlin!" You are
in so much trouble, you little shit. "I'm so sorry, Madam President."
"Devlyn,
remember?"
Lauren ducked her
head. "Right. And I am sorry. That's so strange." Pale brows
furrowed. "Grem loves everybody." Seeing Dev's scowl, she realized
how that must have sounded and added, "But he has had a really stressful
day. But he's totally, one hundred percent safe, I swear. He's usually afraid
of his own shadow."
Dev suddenly growled
back at the dog and he jumped, scooting under the bed with a loud yelp just as
fast as his tiny legs would take him. "Okay, I'll buy that," Dev
agreed amiably, quite pleased with herself. Mental note: consult David about
finding the best dog bribes for dogs more chicken than canine, who obviously
hate me.
Dev pushed herself to
her feet, groaning. It had been a long day. And she'd been looking forward to
relaxing. Reluctantly, she roused the kids. "I think we should give Ms.
Strayer her privacy now."
"Don't go,"
Lauren heard herself say, a little bewildered by the urgency in her own voice.
She could feel her cheeks tingling with heat.
"Okay," Dev
replied immediately, a grin forming. "Wanna chat while the kids
play?"
Lauren nodded, and
the women moved to the sofas. The younger woman sat down first, and Dev fought
the urge to plop down next to her, moving to the opposite couch instead.
"That's a pretty
skirt." Lauren's gaze swept down Dev's legs. She should wear them more
often. Fantastic legs. The thought might have been startling, but for the fact
that it was so undeniably true.
Dev's voice called
her back to the moment, and now it was the President's turn to blush as she
picked nervously at the material. "Thanks." Devlyn rooted around in
her pocket until her hand emerged holding a foil wrapper. A sweet aroma drifted
toward the writer.
"Wanna share my
Hershey Bar?" Dev passed over a piece of chocolate.
"Sure!"
Lauren reached out happily. A Hershey Bar? Oh, boy. Thank God we're not on a
bus.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Madam President
Chapter II
February 2021
Tuesday, February 23rd
Lauren paused in her writing and pushed
away from her desk. She tilted her head to the side in deep thought, her
fingers absently twirling a pen as she read over her latest journal entry. This
wasn't a private journal, although her personal thoughts were woven around her
professional observations. She would extract them later. Or not. Depending on
exactly what they were and how they related to what she was trying to convey.
This was her collection of handwritten notes about her 'subject'. And they
already filled a single, heavy-duty, three-ring binder.
The writer had to
admit that her first month as Devlyn's biographer had been little more than a
blur. A whirlwind of motion and activity. Pledges and compromises. Deals and
sacrifices.
It had taken every
single one of the last twenty-nine days for her to begin to become accustomed
to rising at five in the morning so she could start the day with Dev. Lauren
had actually groaned out loud when she found out that on Mondays, Wednesdays,
and Fridays the President and a flock of Secret Service Agents went jogging.
She smirked to herself as she began scratching out a few more thoughts. That
wasn't quite true. They didn't jog. They raced the three miles around south
lawn jogging trail as though their feet were on fire. Their blistering pace
kept press corps participation to a bare minimum, and Lauren already knew
Devlyn well enough to know that was no accident.
The President
approached her workouts with the same single-minded intensity with which she
approached everything. Dev wanted to sweat. She didn't mind if some good
conversation took place while she was doing it though, which was the only
reason Lauren could make herself attend. But President Marlowe wasn't going to
slow down to let it happen. She set the pace. And that made Lauren even more
determined than ever not to fall out. After the first week she stopped wishing
Dev were dead and started wishing she was. But then, begrudgingly, grouchily,
as the days ticked by, her body began to accept this new demand.
On Tuesdays,
Thursdays, and Saturdays Dev worked out in the White House's private gym for at
least an hour and a half, which was something Lauren found infinitely more
palatable than the running. In this arena she had even shown the President a
thing or two. Sunday was 'family day'. And Dev, 'the no good, lazy whelp' –
Lauren underlined the words, drawing a wickedly smiling devil's face, complete
with horns and flames shooting from her nose – didn't 'officially' exercise.
But the woman got twice as much of a workout as normal because she always gave
Emma the day off and took to chasing after Ashley, Chris and Aaron herself.
Dev even slept in
until
The blonde woman
quickly discovered that Devlyn was always working, even when she wasn't. And
while Lauren could sneak back to the privacy of her room and collapse on her
bed, Dev was always in a series of meetings or just one more phone call away
from a little time to herself. Many nights Lauren would lay awake in bed,
listening for Devlyn's quiet footsteps as she slowly padded her way from her
office to her bedroom... well after
But, despite what
she'd come to call the 'grind', there were still a heaping handful of pleasant
memories that stood out in her mind and made her smile just to recall them. She
had discovered that Dev was at her most Presidential away from the White House.
Lauren got a
surprising thrill when she traveled with Devlyn in the Presidential motorcade.
It wasn't the motorcade itself. Well, okay, she admitted privately, it is a
great ego trip to feel like the world is spinning just for you. But what was
even better, was that it gave her the opportunity to sneak a few moments alone
with Devlyn. And although she wasn't positive, she suspected that Devlyn felt
the same way. The older woman's sly grin, as she would shuffle them toward the
waiting car, gave her away.
It was at times like
these, alone in the back of Dev's limousine, that they enjoyed some of their
best conversations. In the past, Lauren had always prepared questions on note
cards for her other subjects, stuffing them into her pockets to be used at a
moment's notice. So far, with Devlyn, she hadn't even bothered. Dev was always
willing to talk. She was honest and funny, and Lauren wasn't sure how it
happened, but one day she heard herself laughing and telling Devlyn about her
own college days, her research long forgotten in the wake of genuine smiles and
a growing camaraderie.
They were becoming
friends. Lauren could feel it. And while professionally she was certain this
was a bad idea, personally she couldn't dredge up a single drop of will power
to fight against it. She liked Devlyn Marlowe. And the more she got to know
her, the more she wanted to know.
During the times she
wasn't trailing after the President like a wayward puppy, Lauren was
researching Devlyn's family tree, consulting several well-known genealogists
and even a cultural geographer. While Devlyn's lineage wasn't going to be the
focus of the biography any more than the campaign was, most readers seemed to
appreciate it if you started at the beginning. Though, on occasion, Lauren
would skip around chronologically and focus on the present day, trying to fit
pieces of information with other bits and scraps of knowledge that would
ultimately paint a portrait of an American President and a truly unique woman.
Lauren had already
turned up at least one interesting tidbit that had required considerable
digging. All evidence pointed to the fact that Devlyn's great, great, great
Grandfather was a Native American. Chippewa to be precise. And the biographer
suspected that Devlyn could trace her dark hair, lightly tanned complexion, and
angular bone structure back to this side of her family. It was likely that this
information had never come to light before because, by the early 1800s, the
Marlowe family had evolved from French fur trappers into society bluebloods.
And in 19th century
Lauren turned the
page in her notebook. She dropped her pen when the newest pile of photographs
she'd taken caught her eye. One in particular captured her attention, and she
pulled it from the stack.
It was of Dev and the
kids, stretched out on the floor of the residence living room. Dev was sprawled
on her back, holding a book slightly above her face, and the children were all
lying on her, their heads each resting on a different body part. It was a
fairytale, Lauren recalled. She had been invited to spend the evening with the
family and remembered enjoying the story nearly as much as the children. Dev
looked younger, her face relaxed and happy. Dark hair spilled onto the
light-colored carpet, and her blue eyes stood out vividly against the shadows
created by the book and the fireplace.
The writer sighed
audibly as she traced the photograph carefully, lingering over Devlyn's face.
She has such interesting eyes and lips. So expressive.
It was a beautiful
picture. A portrait of domestic bliss that, to Lauren, looked as alien as it
did comforting. For the most part, her own childhood had been unremarkable.
While not overly loving, it wasn't abusive either and was characterized more by
simple indifference than anything else.
Her parents were
stuck in their roles as 'provider' and 'keeper of the house', and she always
considered them in a never-ending rut. Each living out his and her lot in life
with a stoic acceptance of their place in the world and an almost intentional
blind eye to their own happiness or the happiness of those around them.
Lauren's own dreams
of travel and education were neither encouraged nor discouraged. And she
learned very early on that she was expected to make her own way in life,
unburdened by the sentimentality and support of family. Still, she loved them,
and felt that love timidly returned in the form of actions, if not words.
There were sporadic
moments of harshness amidst the general blandness of her youth, but she didn't
dwell on them. She had grown up and gotten out, saving most of her contact with
her parents for her monthly telephone calls home and short visits home at the
holidays. Lauren glanced at the photograph again, and a bittersweet smile
flickered across her lips before disappearing completely. No. She shook her
head a little. Her childhood hadn't been anything like that.
She compared the
photo in her hand to several others where Dev was in full Chief Executive mode,
exuding power, intellect, and an unsurpassed determination. Lauren grinned in
amazement. Each picture perfectly suited a different aspect of the President's
personality. She was never 'in' or 'out' of character as so many people were.
These were all Devlyn. Every last one.
At first, four years
studying Devlyn and her life sounded like more of a prison sentence than an
opportunity.
Now Lauren wondered
whether four would be nearly enough.
Friday, February 19th
"Well,"
David stood directly in front of the boss' desk, a thick stack of newspapers in
his arms. "Twenty four days isn't quite a month."
Dev didn't even
bother to look up; she just sighed and extended her hand. "What?" she
asked in a voice that wavered somewhere between amused and annoyed.
"I." He
dropped a copy of the
Dev picked through
them until she found The
"Top half of the
front page, Madam Smartass." David flipped the paper over and pinned it to
the desk with a long, ruddy finger. He gestured with his chin.
Devlyn made a show of
squinting at the page. "You mean that tiny, little one column, barely two
inches long announcement that a biographer has been hired?" She snorted.
"Big deal."
"That one is
nice to you because it's your home state, and you know it. The
She grinned rakishly.
"No, but you can call the AMA and let them know I wouldn't mind playing
doctor..." Dev instantly bit down on her tongue and chanced another glance
up into David's wide, practically bulging, brown eyes. "You didn't hear
that." She shook her finger at David. "I didn't say that!"
"Oh, yes, I did!
And, oh, yes, you did!" He nervously tugged at his tie. This was not good.
No. Actually, this was outright bad. "Deeeeeeev," he drew out her
name menacingly.
"What happened
to Madam President? Hell, I even liked Wonder Woman better than
Deeeeeeeev." She imitated his worried tone perfectly.
"What aren't you
telling me here?"
His voice was low and
stern, and Dev felt like a child caught with her hand firmly entrenched in the
cookie jar. "Nothing, I swear." She crossed her heart. "Nothing
is going on; nothing will be going on." Dev frowned, unable to keep how
she felt about that prospect from showing on her face. "She's writing a
book, and I'm the subject of that book. End of story."
"Me thinks thou
doth protest too much." David pushed aside Dev's steaming mug of coffee
and leaned forward. "Something is going on between you and Lauren Strayer,
isn't it?"
"No." She
looked him straight in the eye.
He searched her face.
She was telling the truth. So far. "Do you want something to be going on
between you and Lauren Strayer?" David carefully enunciated the words, not
giving her a way out.
Devlyn's eyes went
slightly round. She wasn't expecting that. Damn you, David. "No."
Then she shook her head, knowing that was a bald-faced lie. "I mean
'yes'." But that wasn't quite the truth either. "Shit! I mean,
'maybe'." Jesus Christ, I sound like a hard core Democrat. "I don't
know, David."
David's eyes softened
at the look of distress and confusion on his friend's face. He backed off a
little, sitting on the edge of the desk and dropping his hands to his lap as he
waited for Devlyn to continue.
"I know that
when I'm in the room with her, I feel like a giddy teenager. I find myself
thinking about her all the time. Wondering what she's doing. What she's
thinking." Why she always smells so nice and what she's wearing, she added
privately. Dev stood, turning around to stare out the window and into the
dingy, gray, winter sky. "I think I've been alone so long that I'd
forgotten what it's like to spend time with someone new, where it felt easy...
comfortable."
"Lauren doesn't
want anything from me except for me to talk and be myself. I mean... I know
she's just doing her job." She shrugged one shoulder. "But it feels
like more. Like she really cares about what I think and feel. Not like I'm
under her microscope."
He blew out a
frustrated breath. David didn't want to see his friend hurt. And Lauren could
devastate both her career and her heart. But it was time that Devlyn started
living again. Samantha had been the love of her life. But that life was over.
And Dev had embarked on a new one the moment her wife had died. David was more
than anxious to acknowledge that it was okay to feel again... even if the
timing and circumstances sucked great big donkey balls. "Feels good,
doesn't it?"
She nodded without
turning around, but he caught her weak smile in the window's reflection.
"Yeah," she admittedly softly. A pause. "It really does."
David allowed the
conversation to dwindle down, which was never very hard to do when Dev was
working through something in her mind. The tall woman was prone to lapse into
long moments of silence as she thought, even if it was in the middle of a
conversation. He chewed at his mustache for a moment, and just as he was about
to speak again, there was a knock on the door, and Liza entered the office.
"I'm sorry for
the interruption, Madam President." Liza gave her watch a perfunctory
glance – the eighth one in the past five minutes. "It's time for your
press conference."
"Don't make that
girl use a cattle prod," Jane called from somewhere behind Liza.
Liza smothered a
smile. Jane would say anything to her boss, and, to Liza, President Marlowe's
secretary from
Dev rolled her eyes,
properly chastised by Jane. "Right. Of course." She turned and
retrieved her jacket from the coat rack, handing it to David. As per their
ritual, he held it for her, and she shrugged into it, buttoning all the buttons
as he smoothed the shoulders. It was simple and intimate in a way that spoke of
their affection and true friendship. Dev had done the same thing for him on
many occasions.
The President picked
an imaginary piece of lint off the black, wool blazer. "Send copies of
those to Lauren." She motioned toward the stack of newspapers. "I
don't want her blindsided. And could you... umm... tell her I'm sorry about all
this?"
David nodded.
"I've already done it. And I asked her to skip the press conference today,
too. I told her you'd call her right after."
"Good man. I
knew there was a reason I kept you."
"Yeah, my
charming personality and good looks."
Dev burst out
laughing. She punched David in the gut, making him instantly regret stopping at
the McDonald's drive-thru for breakfast. "No, it's because you're the best
damn handler in the business, and we both know it." Dev reached out and
took the note cards from Liza and placed them in her left pocket.
"Are you saying
I'm not good looking?" He squared his shoulders indignantly and wrinkled
his slightly pug nose.
Devlyn grinned.
"I'd never say that. Your wife would kick my butt."
"Madam
President, we really need to go," Liza reminded, already walking to the
door.
"Cattle prod
time!" was heard from somewhere in the distance.
* * *
Lauren opened the
folded paper, her mouth still hanging open from the last article she had read.
Impossibly her face turned a darker shade of red as she scanned the words.
"Playing house? The President's little blonde toy? Hanky Panky
She crumpled the
paper and tossed it onto the pile of balled-up newspapers on the floor by her
bed. "Arrrggghhhhhh! You—slimy—sons of bitches!" Then she read the
byline and snorted angrily, tearing the article with her name and horrific
college yearbook photo right out of the paper. "You were an asshole in
college, Marjorie. And you're still one!"
Gremlin whined and
buried himself under Lauren's pillow.
A toneless but
soothing female voice rang out in Lauren's room. "Estimated time to press
conference, one minute. Activate image feed."
"Activation
authorized... umm... um... crap... 186... um... 1868... ugh! Pause
activation."
She tried valiantly
to remember the number, her hands flailing the entire time. Michael Oaks had
informed her that the last four digits of her social security number were an
unacceptable password and had insisted she come up with another one. Lauren
agreed just so he would shut up and leave her room. She'd been sorry ever
since.
Grabbing Gremlin by
his back legs, she pulled the pooch out from under her pillow.
"Get...," she snatched a squirming leg and gave another tug as he tried
to scramble back under her pillow, "...get out of there, you coward! I'm
not mad at you!"
Once she freed him,
she flipped him over and peered down at his dog collar, the shiny tags
reflecting off her glasses. She raised her voice and read aloud his license
number. "Activation authorized 18686GH89ZDC." Let someone figure out
that code! she thought defiantly.
The video image
popped into being, and a life-size Devlyn was now standing next to Press
Secretary Allen, a few feet from her podium in the press room, and in front of
Lauren's desk. The writer's first thought was that the image that had once
seemed so vivid and intense, paled in comparison to the real woman. Of course,
I was stoned at the time.
Gremlin began to
growl at the dark-haired women. Though even in the best of circumstances, he
couldn't quite muster 'ferocious'.
"Hush!"
Lauren wrapped her palm around Gremlin's slightly damp mouth and pulled him
into her lap. "And for the last time, you can't bite that... it's just an
image."
He gave a hopeful
whine, wiggling his bottom as he got comfortable.
Lauren rolled her
eyes. "You can't bite the real thing either. It's about to start...
quiet." She absently kissed the top of his head and folded her legs up
underneath her Indian style, staring intently. "Devlyn will take care of
this." Lauren nodded. "They won't know what hit 'em."
Dev shifted back and
forth, waiting for the Press Secretary to introduce her. She couldn't help but
wonder how Lauren was taking this news. Lauren is a reasonable, mature woman.
She'll understand that this was inevitable and really couldn't be helped.
"Tear 'em to
shreds, Dev!" Lauren crowed eagerly.
"Ladies and
gentlemen, President Marlowe will now take a few questions on the topics we've
covered this morning." Press Secretary Allen adjusted the microphone on
the podium so that it was more suitable for the President's height.
Dev stepped out, and
the cameras were turned on her. When she took her place, her gaze immediately
drifted to where Lauren usually stood. Holding in the sigh, and hoping the
disappointment didn't show on her face, Devlyn greeted the press. "Good
morning."
Murmurs of 'Madam
President' and 'Mornin'' answered her.
Devlyn shuffled her
notes on the podium. "Let's start with the DNA Registration Act, shall we?"
She pointed to a man in the front row and smiled. "Let's have it, Bill. I
know you're dying to get into this."
The balding reporter
from the
Lauren all but
snarled. "Set him straight, Dev."
Dev's expression
hardened just a bit, but she answered smoothly, "She's a very talented
biographer, and I'm delighted she's agreed to write mine."
"What?"
Lauren exclaimed to Dev's image. She released Gremlin, who stuck his
non-existent nose under the edge of the comforter and scooted underneath it to
hide again. "That's it?" The writer's tone was incredulous.
"That's all you're going to say?"
Dev gestured to a
woman in the middle of the room. "C'mon, Kathleen. I'm sure you can do
better than that."
The correspondent
from CNN rose to her feet, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes. "I don't
know about that, Madam President. Maybe you could fill us in on the details,
like when did Ms. Strayer move into the White House, and why wasn't she put in
VIP quarters? Why the residence? There was no press release to that effect.
What are you hiding?"
"Nothing, you
moron! We're hiding nothing!" Lauren tore her glasses from her face and
tossed them onto the bed.
Dev raised a sharp
eyebrow at the CNN reporter. "Just because I don't disclose every detail
of my private life to the press, does not mean I'm hiding anything," Dev
growled.
"Oh, my
God," Lauren muttered, covering her face with her hands.
Press Secretary
Allen, who was waiting in the wings, closed her eyes briefly as she let out a
long string of expletives under her breath. She turned to David. "Tell me
she didn't use the word 'private'."
David threw his hands
in the air. "I don't think she meant it like it sounded." He shook
his head. "Out of the frying pan, into the fire, my friend."
Dev immediately knew
she had misspoken, and it wasn't just because the room exploded with questions.
"Where did you
meet Ms. Strayer?
"How long have
you known her?"
"What's it like
trying to go out on a date as the President of the
"Is she a real
blonde?"
Two pale eyebrows
disappeared into Lauren's hairline. "You'll never have the pleasure of
knowing, buddy," she answered tartly.
Dev silently endured
the barrage of questions. She did consider what happened in her private
residence to be private, despite the fact that Lauren was there on a
professional basis. But why do I think the press isn't going to take it that
way? Shit!
"How do your
children like her, and how do they feel about her living with you?"
With that question,
the color rose to Dev's cheeks, and she drew in a deep, calming breath before
speaking. "Ladies and gentleman, I know Press Secretary Allen came out
here and gave you a full briefing about five very important pieces of
legislation I'm working on. I came here to answer questions about those and
other important issues facing our nation."
Lauren's eyes were
drawn to Dev's white-knuckled grip on the podium.
"I did not come
here to answer questions about something that is of no significance at
all."
"No
significance?" Lauren sprang to her feet, knocking her glasses onto the
carpet. "I've just been crucified in every major newspaper in the country,
and it's not significant?!" she shouted at Dev's hologram. "Thanks so
much!"
A chorus of voices
protested, and Dev raised her hands to silence them. "I'm sure, overall,
that the American public is far more interested in how I intend to make sure
every child has adequate health care, and whether or not there will be a social
security program at the end of my time in office."
Press Secretary Allen
and David looked at each other, rolling knowing eyes simultaneously.
"And when you're
ready to talk about those, you let Press Secretary Allen know, and I'll be
back. Your current line of questioning is a waste of my time, and, therefore,
the public's money. Good day, ladies and gentlemen."
And with that, she
left the room. I need to see Lauren.
* * *
Lauren sat on her bed
with her head in her hands. Her career was dying on the vine. What good was an
historian and biographer who couldn't be trusted to be objective and honest?
None. Jesus, I'm going to end up doing Ricky Martin's life story. I know it.
The blonde woman
heard a light rapping on her door. "Go away."
Devlyn pressed her
forehead against Lauren's door, not caring who saw her. "Lauren, please
give me a moment."
"You had your
moment. And, if I recall, you decided to go with 'no comment'." But,
despite herself, she was drawn to the door. She took several steps toward it,
but decided she wasn't ready to see Devlyn yet. Instead, she gracelessly
plopped down on the coffee table, only to have it collapse under her weight.
Devlyn pounded on the
door several more times, but waved away a Secret Service agent who had jumped
to her assistance. When he was back at his post she called softly, "Are
you all right?" God, she's stubborn. "C'mon, please let me in. At
least let me apologize to you face to face."
Lauren pushed up from
the rubble. Great. There go my next ten pay checks. I hope Gremlin can learn to
appreciate generic dog food. Her gaze traveled to the door. Dev sounded sincere
enough. Brushing off her pants, she reluctantly crossed the room and pulled the
door open just a crack. "Yes?"
Now that they were
face-to-face Dev found herself a little tongue-tied. But one look into flashing
gray eyes and she got over it quickly. "I'm sorry."
Lauren felt a pang in
her chest at the look of regret etched across Dev's face and fought the urge to
accept Devlyn's apology on the spot. But the words from the press conference
were still too fresh in the writer's mind. She turned her back on the President
and moved deeper into her room with Dev trailing behind her, the door left open
just a crack. "Why are you sorry about such an insignificant little thing
as the career I've worked my ass off for, President Marlowe?"
Devlyn flinched at
Lauren's icy tone and the use of her title. Not to mention that she didn't
particularly enjoy having her own words thrown back at her. Patience.
"Yeah." She sighed. "I know that came out wrong. Lauren, I
didn't mean to say, or even imply, that you or your career were insignificant.
I just meant that this was something the public didn't need to concern itself
with. I am sorry."
Lauren shook her
head. Apologies were all well and good, but Devlyn didn't seem to grasp what
this meant for both of them. "I record. I observe. I can't be the subject
of speculation!" How blind am I, that I didn't even see this coming?
"You had one chance to nip this in the bud, and you didn't do it. You
promised you'd go to bat for me, and you didn't. If I'm not credible, I'm
worthless as your biographer." And anyone else's.
The President
straightened as Lauren's accusations hit home. "You are not worthless, and
you never will be! Lauren, if I take the time to address this issue, it won't
just go away. The best thing to do is let it run its course, and let it die a
slow, quiet death. Trust me. Tomorrow," she paused. "Okay, maybe not
tomorrow, but next week or next month, this will just be a memory, and the
world will move on to other pieces of gossip."
Devlyn ignored the
slumped set of Lauren's shoulders and pressed on when all she really wanted to
do was give the woman a hug. "Haven't you been paying attention these last
few weeks? Haven't you watched me jump from one issue to the next so quickly
that sometimes I feel like a trick pony? If you haven't, then maybe you aren't
the person for the job after all."
The dark-haired
woman's jaw worked for a few seconds, and she let out an explosive breath. She
didn't want to say the next part, but she knew she had to. She stared at the
wall beyond Lauren with unseeing eyes. "We're not involved and... well...
of course... you're not a prisoner. You're free to leave anytime you like with
the highest recommendation I can offer."
Lauren's shoulders
dropped further, and Devlyn felt her guts twist into a solid knot with the
knowledge that she was the cause. This was all her idea. "Just know that
I'm sorry for what happened. I would never intentionally cause you pain,
Lauren." Please believe me.
The shorter woman
closed her eyes at Devlyn's words. She never blamed Dev for this happening,
only for not handling it differently. Or am I just upset that she didn't handle
it my way? "Leave?" she whispered weakly. Did she want to leave? No.
She wanted the day to start itself over again and to not have a stack of
newspapers, and a room full of reporters, questioning her morals and professionalism
and Devlyn's good sense.
Her anger began to
drain away, and when she turned around and peered up into concerned blue eyes,
her own filled with tears. "But we didn't do anything wrong. It's not
fair!" She knew how naive that sounded. But at that moment, she didn't
care. It was the truth.
Devlyn's lips curved
into a sad smile. "I know what's true, and so do you. That's all that
matters today, because tomorrow we're old news," she cocked her head to
the side, "remember?" Then her forehead creased. She bit her lip, but
couldn't stop the question that was on the tip of her tongue. "Would it be
so horrible? People thinking that there was something between us. If it weren't
for the job, I mean." That was smooth, Marlowe. Even I'm confused about
what I just asked.
Lauren shook her head
as a few unshed tears spilled over. She wiped them away angrily, hating that
when she was upset her first reaction was to yell, her temper boiling over. Her
second was to cry. And, to her embarrassment, Devlyn had just been treated to
both. "I... um...." Her brows furrowed. Was Devlyn asking if it
bothered her because they were both women? She wasn't quite sure so she
guessed. "It's not that."
Devlyn's voice was
softer now, and she crossed the final steps to Lauren, not stopping until she
was close enough to get a good look at the crystal scattering of tears in pale
lashes. "It's hard to have everything you are put under a microscope.
Trust me, I know. I just need you to believe that I'm sorry."
She swallowed hard,
morbidly picking at what she immediately recognized as a sore spot. "If
you want to resign, I'll understand. And I'll make sure that
Their eyes locked,
and Lauren found herself unable to break Dev's intense gaze. "Is that... I
mean... do you want me to resign?" She had never stood quite this close to
Dev before and she felt a slight, inexplicable yearning to move even closer.
Dev shook her head
gravely. "No. That's the last thing I want. What I want is for you to be
happy and comfortable here."
Lauren nodded. She
didn't know if that was still possible. But she was bound and determined to
try. The writer lifted her chin. "I'm no quitter, Devlyn." She
blinked away her remaining tears, splashing a salty drop on her cheek.
Dev reached out
tentatively, her hand moving so slowly that Lauren could detect its faint
trembling. "I know you're not." Devlyn chuckled softly. "Why do
you think I wanted you in the first place?"
Lauren smiled when
soft fingertips grazed her cheeks, gently brushing away her tears. She laughed
nervously, unconsciously leaning into Dev's touch.
"Are we done
arguing?"
A quick bob of the
head.
"Good. Because I
just discovered that I really hate arguing with you." Dev smiled, the
relief coursing through her nearly enough to make her dizzy.
They stood there
awkwardly for a moment, and Dev dropped her hand from Lauren's cheek.
"Sometimes, after fussing with a friend, a hug can feel really nice,"
she offered gingerly, still not sure she was on solid footing with the
biographer.
Lauren needed no
further invitation. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Dev's solid,
lanky form, sighing with relief when Dev mirrored her actions and squeezed her
gently but firmly. Her face was pressed against Dev's shirt, and her heart was
thumping double time, she realized. But she could feel Devlyn's pounding pulse
in return. She pulled in a deep, comforting breath, catching the faintest whiff
of the President's perfume.
Oh, God. Devlyn
pressed her face into Lauren's soft, wavy hair, praying – hoping – that the
smaller woman couldn't feel her heart, which was about ready to pound out of
her chest. She squeezed a little tighter, then realized that her friendly two
or three seconds were up, and she'd have to release Lauren. Dev was about to
speak when Lauren's door opened, and she looked up to find Christopher and
Aaron staring back at her.
Lauren's gaze flicked
to the door, and she affected a deer in the headlights look as the boys watched
on, oblivious to the room's mounting tension.
"The dog,"
Dev whispered in Lauren's ear, her warm breath causing a slight tremor in the
writer. "They're here for him."
Lauren suddenly
whistled, and Gremlin poked his head out from under the bed where he was
hiding. He saw Devlyn and immediately growled, baring tiny crooked teeth.
"Gremlin!"
the boys shouted happily.
The dog bounded
across the room. But not before stopping in front of Devlyn and offering
another short growl. Then he ran over to the boys, who immediately began
playing with him, forgetting all about the fact that their mother and Lauren
were still wrapped in a loose embrace.
Lauren stared for a
moment. "That's amazing. Gremlin hypnotizes them."
"It's true. My
children are slaves to the cult of Gremlin."
They both burst out
laughing and reluctantly disentangled themselves from each other.
Dev spied the broken
coffee table. "Next time you get mad at me, you might want to hit me. I
doubt I'm worth as much as that table."
"Sweet
Jesus," Lauren drawled, her Southern accent popping out in full force. She
examined the shards of wood scattered on the carpet and gulped. "How much
was it worth?" Not that I really want to know. But I'm sure Michael Oaks
is running me a tab, so I might as well hear it now.
Devlyn crossed her
arms. "Dunno. It was made for Andrew Jackson. It's a one of a kind
historical piece. Completely irreplaceable." I will not laugh. I will not.
Lauren's eyes grew
wide as her voice grew weak. "It was," she uttered glumly. I so
should have stayed in bed this morning. Well, except for that hug. I'd get out
of bed for one of those any day of the week.
"Yeah. It
was," Dev commiserated. "I heard they had appraisals done on it last
year, from both Christie's and Lloyds of
Lauren could hear the
smile in Dev's voice, and she glanced up from the coffee table to see twinkling
eyes. "Lloyds of London, huh?" Her tone was skeptical.
Dev laughed.
"Okay, would it make you feel any better to know that I bought it at a
yard sale in college, paid four bucks for it, and refinished it myself? It came
with me from
"You rat!"
She made a mock angry face, but still said a small prayer of thanks. "Does
this mean I don't have to sell a kidney?"
"No
kidney." Dev arched a droll brow. "But you owe me four bucks."
* * *
"C'mon in."
Lauren opened the door to her quarters, a soft, yellow light from the lamp
she'd left on spilling into the hallway. "You're going to love this
picture. I just developed it over lunch. She was giving a speech to
Congress."
Dev's eyebrows hiked
up behind her bangs. "Ashley?" Please tell me she wasn't a
Republican.
The women stopped in
front of Lauren's desk. The shorter woman grinned and handed Devlyn the
picture. "Uh huh."
Dev chuckled and held
the photo at eye level. "So that's why she's wearing my blazer." The
navy jacket hung nearly to the floor on the seven-year-old, its broad shoulders
making her head appear tiny. "She's so cute."
"She looks just
like you."
Devlyn felt a flush
working its way up her neck. "I suppose so," she admitted sheepishly,
although Lauren could still hear the pride in her voice. "Samantha always
told me the same thing." Dev suddenly paused as though she'd said
something wrong. She felt a twinge of guilt, and her throat began to close.
With a start, she realized that she hadn't thought of Samantha in days...
hadn't said her name in weeks. Tears filled her eyes, coming so fast she
couldn't stop them.
Lauren laid a gentle
hand on Devlyn's arm. "You miss her a lot, I'm sure." She smiled
sympathetically, at a total loss as to what else she could say.
By the time Lauren
had divorced her ex-husband, there were no tears of grief for her; not that
there had been many to begin with. She had been more upset by her own failure
to make the marriage work than by losing him. And, by the bitter end, she was
more than ready for it to all be over and to let go. Looking at the older
woman, Lauren felt a little ashamed that she hadn't ever mirrored the stinging
loss that was so evident in Dev's face.
Dev nodded weakly.
"She was a very special person. But the world does keep spinning."
Even if it took me a long time to really believe it. Her eyes fastened on
Lauren's. "I don't think I was meant to walk through life alone." A
wistful smile touched her face. "It's much more fun with somebody
else."
"Depends on the
somebody," Lauren said seriously.
Dev's voice was just
as serious. "I guess it does."
A smooth, female
voice interrupted the room's silence, and Lauren tore her gaze away from the
riveting blue. "Incoming call from (865) 555-9537. Call forwarded from
cell phone. Status: emergency."
Lauren sucked in a
breath. Calls designated as emergencies didn't ring on the phone. An automated
voice system kicked in instead. And she'd had her cell phone off all day. While
she called home once a month, she had never, ever received a long distance
phone call from her parents. Not caring that Devlyn was still in the room, she
took the call. "Call accepted."
"Lauri?" a
deep, male voice boomed in an accent that was far more pronounced than
Lauren's.
"What's wrong,
Daddy? Is it Mama?"
Dev wrapped her arm
around Lauren's waist, bracing them both for bad news. Don't let someone be
dead, Dev thought hastily.
There was a long
pause and then a sigh. "She's been in bed all week. You know her."
Lauren looked
concerned, and Devlyn wanted to ask about her mother, but Lauren's father spoke
before she could.
"Holy hell,
girl! I've been trying to get a hold of you since this morning. Do you know
what time it is?"
"I know it's
late. I just got back to my bedroom."
"Doesn't that
lady President let you sleep?"
This, coming from a
man who got up every morning at
"I'll tell you
what's wrong." He quoted The Revealer at length, and both women cringed.
That was the tabloid rag that had used the phrase 'brainy sex kitten'.
"Everybody is talking about it! Our phone has been ringing off the hook. I
had to unplug the damned thing. And now there are a bunch of news people parked
on our front lawn, and they won't leave!"
"Oh, Daddy, I'm
so sorry. We never meant for that to happen. And for the millionth time, tell
Mama to stop reading that trash." Not that the 'respectable' papers were
much better, she thought sourly.
"We?" The
word was said with as much rancor as the man could muster. This couldn't
possibly be true, could it? "Who exactly is 'we'?"
"Ummm..."
Lauren fumbled for something to say, suddenly feeling very guilty despite the
fact that she and Dev hadn't done anything wrong.
"Girl, are you
living there? In the White House?"
"Surprise,"
she teased listlessly. "I was going to tell you next weekend when I
called."
"You didn't tell
them?!" Dev whispered harshly in Lauren's ear.
Lauren shrugged a
little defensively as she pulled away from Dev. She had been abroad for nearly
two years when she did Cardinal O'Roarke's biography. And her parents never
inquired once about her exact whereabouts. Never asked her for her address.
They were content to have her phone number, which they never used. It hadn't
occurred to her to let them know anything other than the fact that she'd be in
There was a pause
while Howard Strayer covered the receiver with his palm. "I told you to
get away from those bushes, God dammit!"
Lauren looked at
Devlyn in panic when she heard the unmistakable sounds of her father's shotgun
being loaded.
"Mr. Strayer,
this is Devlyn Marlowe," Dev jumped in. "Please don't shoot the
press. I'll make sure your local police keep them from trespassing on your
lawn."
Lauren turned and
looked at Dev, her jaw sagging. What are you doing, Devlyn?
"Yeah,
right!" the man snorted. "And I'm the King of
Lauren covered her
mouth, stifling a sudden laugh.
"I um... but I
am Devlyn Marlowe!" Dev persisted indignantly.
"Girl, this is
no laughing matter. And stop making your voice all deep and gravely like a
man's. I should think you're too old for such nonsense."
Two sable eyebrows
curved upwards. Dev put her hands on her hips and mouthed "Like a
man?" to Lauren, who was now doubled over with laughter.
"Daddy, this
really is President Marlowe," Lauren finally choked out when she caught
her breath. She motioned to Dev. "Say something while I'm talking, so
he'll believe me."
"Mr. Strayer, it
really is me." Devlyn spoke over Lauren's renewed laughter.
"No shit?"
"No shit."
Dev replied smoothly, now smiling herself.
"Well then,
Madam President, I only have one question for you."
Dev tilted her head
toward the intercom. "Yes?"
"What in the Sam
Hill are you doing in my daughter's room at
Dev's eyes widened at
the scolding, parental tone. Could someone else's father ground you?
"Uhh..."
Oh, boy.
Sunday, February 21st
The writer liked
Sundays. This fourth Sunday in the White House was quiet and nearly what an
ordinary person would call normal. Why would anyone want this job? There was
never really any time to rest. Even today, Dev was called into a meeting over a
brewing crisis in the
Lauren's plan was to
stay in and write. Though she knew she needed to take Gremlin for a walk soon.
Lauren was craving some time outside herself. Gray eyes slid over to her little
companion, who was curled in a tight ball at her feet.
A noise drew her
attention outside the window next to her bed, where she could see Christopher
and Aaron and their Secret Service agents romping in the snow and having a good
time, squealing as they pelted each other with soggy snowballs. The two young agents
who were assigned to them were honestly playing, and looked to be having nearly
as good a time as the children. She noticed several other agents standing in
the background, drinking steaming beverages and keeping a watchful eye over the
snowball fight.
The blonde woman
stood up to get a better view of the winter mayhem and wondered where Ashley
was in the melee. Her eyes searched the lawn, pale brows drawing together when
she realized the little girl wasn't there. "Come on, Gremlin, let's go for
a walk."
Gremlin jumped up as
though he hadn't been snoring only seconds before. He was ready to go in an
instant, bouncing wildly at Lauren's feet, circling her madly as she gathered
up her jacket and his leash. She shook her head and laughed at the dog's antics.
"Crazy." Bringing along Grem's leash was more a habit than anything
else. Here at the White House he wasn't required to be on his lead.
There were faster
ways for Lauren to get to the lawn, but she strolled along the route that took
her by the kids' bedrooms and the President's living room. Sitting in the hall
outside the living room was Agent Hamlin. As she and the dog approached,
Gremlin darted into the living room ahead of her. Lauren laughed to herself.
I'm going to have to leave you here when I'm finished with this assignment,
aren't I, Grem?
At the doorway the
writer paused, leaning on the frame and watching the dark-haired little girl,
who had a few coloring books laid out in front of her. Her jacket and cap were
balled up on the table next to her crayons.
Gremlin gave a little
bark and Ashley immediately perked up, wiggling herself out of her chair and
flopping onto the carpet to give him a loving scratching. Gremlin was purring
as though he were a fat cat. He was clearly in canine heaven, and Lauren
wondered what she could do in this life to insure coming back as a spoiled
pooch in her next.
The woman took off
her glasses and stuffed them into her jacket pocket, knowing they'd just get so
steamy outside they'd be of no use anyway. Besides, they were bifocals and she
really only needed them for reading and writing, but it was just easier to
leave them on all day and not worry about it. She pushed off from the
doorframe. "Hey, we're just about to go out for a walk. Would you like to
go with us?"
Ashley looked up and
gave her a little shake of her head. But the profoundly sad look in the little
girl's eyes said more than most of the words the writer had ever put on paper.
She stepped into the room and knelt down next to Gremlin.
"You sure?"
she asked gently. "Your brothers are having a ball. Why aren't you out
with them?"
Ashley glanced to the
door but didn't say anything. Lauren sighed. "C'mon," she coaxed.
"I think Gremlin wants to play. And I'm sort of tired this morning. You'd
be doing me a big favor if you'd play with him for a while and wear him
out."
"Really?"
she asked interestedly, allowing the dog to lick her hand.
"Sure."
"But isn't it
cold out?"
Lauren pursed her
lips. Since when did a kid care about the temperature when it came to playing
outside? "Well, I suppose. But you'll be bundled up, right? And we can
always come back inside if it gets too chilly."
"Kay." The
girl immediately brightened.
"Good."
Lauren nodded. "You put on your coat and gloves and..." She looked at
the big pile of clothes on the table. "And whatever else is in that pile,
and I'll let Agent Hamlin know."
Ashley didn't
bothering answering; she was already tugging on her boots.
Lauren marched
purposefully to the door. Leaning out, she spoke very quietly. "Get your
ass up out of that chair and get ready to go out. Ashley and I are taking
Gremlin for a walk. It is not too cold to have a little fun outside. What do
you think her brothers are doing at this very moment?" God, no wonder
Ashley wasn't hitting it off with the agent. The woman acted like she was an
old lady! Wasn't Emma enough for any household?
"But..."
The agent looked into a pair of very unamused, slate-gray eyes, and her protest
died on her lips.
The blonde turned
back to see Ashley and Gremlin happily bounding toward her. As they stepped
into the hall Lauren heard Agent Hamlin speaking behind them. "Princess
and Mighty Mouse are on the move. We're headed out to walk the dog."
Mighty Mouse? Mighty
Mouse! Oooo, Devlyn Marlowe, they had better not have gotten that moniker from
you. Then she laughed at what David had covertly suggested the Secret Service
call Devlyn. As Lauren followed behind Ashley and Gremlin she hoped her name
didn't fit as well as Devlyn's. A wry smile pulled at her lips. Hope your
meetings are going okay, Wonder Woman.
Friday, February 26th
They were sitting in
Devlyn's living room. Exhausted. Lauren looked at her watch. It was almost
Dev shoved a plate of
cookies at Lauren. She sighed and propped her feet on the coffee table. The
fireplace was gently glowing, but Dev didn't think the flames were responsible
for the dark shadows under Lauren's eyes. It had been a bear of a day, and she
herself was drained to the bone. "Tired?" she asked needlessly.
Lauren looked at her
like she was crazy, but answered the rhetorical question anyway. "Heck,
yeah. I'm dead." The writer stared into her glass of milk with mild
distaste. She hadn't drunk milk since she was a little girl. What was Emma's
obsession with the white liquid? When they'd walked into the living room the
older woman, with her hair up in rollers that had to be antiques, simply
pressed the cold glasses into their hands and then marched off to bed without
another word. Weird.
"I don't know
how you do it day in and day out. I don't know how I follow you day in and day
out." The shorter woman yawned. "And I'm not sure how we're going to
survive four years." She picked up several double-stuffed Oreos and sat
them in her lap, not giving a rat's ass about the black crumbs on her
crème-colored skirt. That's why God invented dry cleaning. She passed the plate
back to Dev.
"Today actually
got a little out of hand, and you know it." Blue eyes rolled. "That
little fit the Secretary of Defense threw was quite unexpected, and it totally
FUBARed my schedule."
"That man,"
Lauren plucked up a hapless Oreo and twisted it apart, digging out the
impossibly sweet, creamy filling with her teeth, "is an ass."
Dev shrugged, dunking
her own cookie in her milk until is was properly soaked. "He hates
me."
"Then he's a
bigger ass than I thought. Why does he hate you?" Lauren moaned a little
as she sipped her milk. It was actually good. Who knew?
"Because,"
Devlyn quickly popped the soggy cookie in her mouth, sucking out the milk
before swallowing, "and these are his words, not mine –," Dev
affected a heavy Bostonian accent, "– 'She's queer as a three dollar
bill'."
"All that fuss
today was because you're gay?"
The tall woman
snorted. "Lots of people hate me because I'm gay." She sipped her
milk as an evil grin crossed her lips, nearly causing the milk to drip out of
her mouth. Dev leaned forward just a bit and whispered in a conspiratorial
tone, "I want the Federal Treasury to print three dollar bills just to
piss him off."
Lauren burst out
laughing, and was only able to keep from spraying Devlyn with cookie crumbs by
slapping her palm over her mouth. An impish smile twitched at her lips.
"You might not want to start out with something so drastic. Maybe you
could start small? Like with a Devlyn Marlowe rainbow postage stamp?" I
know I'd buy a book. Then Lauren's face grew serious. "Why have a cabinet
member who hates you?" She glanced down enviously at Dev's feet.
Dev made a show of
wiggling her happy, socked toes. "Please do. And, by the way, you have to
be dead before they put you on a stamp. I don't want to give him that much
satisfaction."
Somewhat hesitantly,
Lauren pushed off her low-heeled pumps. She sighed with relief at the feeling
of the soft, cool carpet against her nylon-covered toes.
"C'mon,"
Dev encouraged, wiggling her feet again. "It's always better on the coffee
table."
"You're
sure?"
"Oh, please.
This one didn't belong to George Washington either." She reached down and
wrapped her fingers around Lauren's ankles.
The younger woman
yelped at the unexpectedly cold hands.
"Sorry."
Dev gestured at the glass of icy milk she'd been holding. "My fingers
aren't normally cold."
Lauren remembered
their hug from the week before. "I know."
"Now, back to
your question." Dev smiled, looking at their feet sitting side-by-side on
the coffee table. She has cute feet.
"Yes?"
Lauren prompted, wondering why Dev was staring at her feet.
"Right. Why have
cabinet members who hate me? Well, it took a lot, and I mean a lot, of dealing
to get me here. I agreed to put people in important positions in return for
support within the Emancipation Party itself. It got me the Presidential
nomination and then four years of putting up with assholes like Secretary of
Defense Brendwell. It's a political game. And that's how it's played." She
drowned another cookie.
"I see,"
Lauren answered thoughtfully. But she didn't really. At least not until that
very moment. "So, you're not only fighting the Democrats and the
Republicans... you have to worry about your own people too?"
"Well, sort of.
My party supports me now. It would be stupid for them not to. A lot of
sacrifices were made along the way. I've got a lot more enemies around here
than friends. The friends I do have are the key. David, for example. He's a
Democrat," she sighed. "So he's my deal man. He can cross party lines
and not look like a total phony. I also trust him with my life."
Lauren mumbled her
agreement. If the public knew how much influence David, and even Jane, really
had,
Dev stopped mid-bite.
"What?"
"You don't ever
have to watch your weight, do you?" she asked enviously. "I think I
hate you."
Given the
opportunity, Dev gave Lauren's toned body a thorough once-over. "I don't
think you have anything to be complaining about, Ms. Strayer," she teased,
but had to drag her eyes back up to meet Lauren's. "Trust me, with the way
we move around, very soon you will learn to eat anything and everything that is
put before you. And you won't gain an ounce. In fact, you've lost a little
already, haven't you?"
Lauren blinked.
"Only five pounds." She arched an eyebrow. "Are you spying on my
scale?"
"No," Dev
laughed. I'm just noticing everything about you. "But that's the cool part
about being here. Suddenly, all food is good for you. You'll need all the extra
energy you can find to get through marathon days like this one." She
popped another cookie into her mouth, along with another deep swallow of milk.
"Besides, I don't have to bother keeping track of my weight. All of
Lauren made a face.
"Well, all
Dev grinned. "I
wouldn't say that." In a heartbeat, her faced flushed a deep red, and she
covered her eyes with her hands. "I'm... ah... I..." Dev scrubbed her
face, trying to erase the blush. "I cer... certainly didn't mean to say
something as out of line as that." She shook her head. "Sometimes I
wonder how I made it this far. David's right; open mouth, insert foot."
Worriedly, she peeked between her fingers and saw Lauren's indulgent smile.
"I'm sorry." Dev really wanted to kick her own ass right now. God, I
can't remember ever being this embarrassed!
Lauren just laughed,
enjoying the rosy tint of Dev's cheeks. Was the woman actually flirting?
"It's all right, Dev. Just a little slip of the tongue, right?"
Dev's eyes widened
slightly, and her blush deepened. "Yeah," she croaked, bringing her
glass to her lips.
How am I even going
to maintain the pretense of any professional distance from you, Devlyn? Jesus,
just look at us now! They were sitting so close together their thighs were
nearly touching. And Lauren's brain nearly seized up on the spot when she found
herself leaning a little closer, willingly losing herself in sky-blue eyes. I
am in so much trouble.
Dev offered her the
last Oreo by way of a peace offering, and Lauren chuckled. "A bribe?"
"Well, we are in
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Madam President
Chapter III
March 2021
Wednesday, March 3rd
The writer smiled at
the vase of fresh-cut, yellow roses that brightened her desk. Every evening
when she made her way to her room, a fresh bouquet was there to greet her. At
first, she assumed that they were delivered to every room in the residence as a
matter of course. Then she realized she hadn't seen them anywhere but her room.
She had asked David McMillian about it, and the man just snorted, never really
answering her question.
This sunny morning,
the President was in a meeting with her National Security Advisor, and Lauren
took the time to start researching a topic that had been niggling at her for
weeks. She had thought Devlyn might discuss it with her herself. But the few
times that it naturally came up in the conversation, Devlyn looked tense, angry
perhaps. Unable to bear the shadows of pain behind Dev's eyes, Lauren steered
the conversation into different waters, despite the fact that Dev appeared
willing to press forward. Thankfully, this part of the President's past had
already been very well publicized.
With a series of
quick commands, Lauren fired up her computer and logged on.
"Good morning,
Ms. Strayer," the soft computer voice greeted her.
"Good
morning." She laughed at her response. She always answered the greeting,
even though it was a machine. It somehow just seemed rude not to. "Search
files. Marlowe, Devlyn."
"Searching.
Files located. Directory?"
Lauren leaned back in
her chair and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose as the
earpiece found its way into her mouth. "Sub-directory: Marlowe, Samantha.
Source: All available."
"Searching.
Files located. Directory?"
"Open all files.
Most recent first. Current directory."
"File name:
Sentencing Hearing. Harris, Theodore, 5/17/2017"
A three-dimensional
video image cued up, and Lauren replaced her glasses, sliding her chair back a
foot or two to maximize the resolution of the image. Dev was in a wood- paneled
courtroom, and the mere sight of her caused Lauren to suck in an unexpected
breath. The dark-haired woman was standing alongside a podium, her face drawn
and tired looking, dark circles ringing normally bright eyes.She looks like
she's been to hell and back.
"If it pleases
the Court," Dev paused and took a sip of water. "I stand here before
you today, not as the Governor of the state of
Dev's eyes flashed,
and Lauren could see a barely suppressed rage mingled with a profound sadness,
both begging to be released. "I spent nearly fifteen years with Samantha
and intended to spend many more." Her penetrating gaze flicked sideways,
and her face hardened. "Except that that man," she pointed to a
bearded, frazzled-looking man who appeared to be in his early thirties,
"decided to get behind the wheel of a car after drinking all night. As has
already been proven, he was speeding along in a drunken stupor when he
broadsided the car that Samantha was driving. Mind you, his car was fully
equipped with auto-drive. And that would have prevented the accident. If he had
bothered to turn it on!"
Lauren leaned
forward, watching intently as Devlyn paused again, fighting to keep her
emotions in check. Her chest felt tight, Dev's tension making it hard for her
to breathe.
"The defendant
left that crash scene with barely a scratch to show for it. And while Samantha
Marlowe layblebleed bleeding and dying, trapped in her car, he continued on his
merry way to the liquor store to buy more booze!"
The image quickly
shifted to the defendant, whose head was now in his hands, before panning back
to Devlyn. Lauren recognized Jane in the gallery.
"It took the
fire department nearly an hour to tear apart the car and get her out. And and
by that time she was already." Dev's voice dropped to a whisper, "she
was dead."
The sound of weeping
could be heard in the background, and Lauren wondered whether it was a friend
or family member of Samantha's or the defendant himself.
Dev's jaw worked for
a moment, and she stepped back around behind the podium. Her eyes dropped down
to look at the notes she had spread out on the slanted wooden surface. They
were crinkled and tattered, and Dev suddenly pushed them away, as though
deciding not to use them after all.
Lauren looked from
the papers to Dev.It was too personal to be read in open court, wasn't it?
"She left behind
three beautiful children," a tiny smile edged her lips, and Lauren smiled
back sadly. No matter what the circumstances, Dev always smiled when she
mentioned her kids. "Our three-year-old daughter, Ashley, whom Samantha
adopted as soon as I had her. Our son, Christopher, who is one. He um... he
took his first steps the day after Samantha was killed." Sniffles joined
the sound of muted weeping in the background. "And our youngest baby,
Aaron, who was barely four weeks old when she was killed."
Dev's composure began
to crack, and hot tears slowly crept down her cheeks, plunking lightly onto the
papers in front of her. Lauren closed her eyes briefly, her stomach churning.
She didn't want to see anymore, but she knew she had to.
"These three
bright and wonderful children will never know the love of this woman who took
care of them, and in the case of Chris and Aaron, carried them in her body,
gave them the very lives they live today. Because of his carelessness his
recklessness his indifference and disregard for human life" Devlyn spat.
"Because of his refusal to seek treatment after hisprevious twoDWIs, I
have lost my partner and my best friend. He destroyed my family," Dev
stopped, completely unable to continue.
She won't even say
his name,Lauren thought.
Dev took a deep
breath and stilled her shaking hands, making firm eye contact with the judge.
"I request that this Court do the right thing and sentence this man to the
maximum time allowed by
David suddenly
entered the picture, wrapping a strong arm around Devlyn's waist as she
appeared to falter for just a second.
"Halt
image." Lauren reached under the lens of her glasses, catching a salty
tear just as it began to fall. She'd had enough. "Computer, tell me the
sentencing of one," she glanced down at the handwritten notes in her lap,
"Teddy or Theodore E. Harris. Convicted of aggravated vehicular
manslaughter in
"Searching. File
located. No visual."
The writer stared at
the frozen image on the screen, looking directly at Dev's shell-shocked face.
"Open," she said quietly.
"Harris,
Theodore, a k a, Harris, Teddy, case number 12843CR17, sentenced on
Lauren's jaw dropped.
"Two years?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Two lousy
years!"
The computer
continued, unfazed by the woman's outburst. "Paroled on
"My God,"
Lauren whispered. She took off her glasses and disgustedly tossed them onto the
desk, rubbing her watery eyes.
The phone on her desk
startled her from her thoughts. "Computer off." She wiped her eyes
once more and reached over, tapping the video feature on the phone. She was
immediately greeted by Dev's smiling face.
"Hi there."
The President leaned
back in her chair, and Lauren could tell by the background that Dev was in the
Oval Office. "How was your meeting?"
"Top
secret." Dev grinned and wrinkled her nose in a way Lauren found
impossibly endearing.
It would be nice to
watch laugh lines form around those baby blues. I'll bet Samantha was looking
forward to that."Of course. I'm sorry."
"No problem.
Listen, it just so happens that I'm sort of free for lunch. If you don't mind
eating in my office, that is. I can sign my name, talk to you and eat my lunch
at the same time." The smile slipped from Devlyn's face, and she eyed
Lauren worriedly, idly noting the absence of her glasses. "Is um are you
okay, Lauren? You look a little upset."
Lauren smiled softly,
and made a conscious effort to brighten her somber mood. "I'm fine. And
you can do all those things at the same time?" Her voice was playful.
"My, my, you are multitalented."
Hush, Dev.But she
couldn't keep a charming, slightly mischievous grin from stretching across her
face. "Years of experience. How about it?"
"Dunno,"
the blonde teased. "Lemme check my calendar and see if the Prime Minister
of
"Hardy har
har."
Lauren chuckled.
"I'll be right down."
* * *
"I don't give a
good goddamn!" Dev slammed her fist against her desk.
Lauren heard the
jarring thud and winced at its intensity as she quietly closed the door. The
entire White House didn't need to hear this. When she turned, Dev was on her
feet, the receiver pressed tightly against her ear. "What do you mean they
changed their minds? They're only allowed to do that when they disagree with
well me! Get those votes back. I won't lose this because some lame ass
Democrats can't decide which side of the fence to stand on!"
The biographer
couldn't resist. She brought her camera up and began clicking off several
frames.Damn, Dev, you do have a temper, don't you?Lauren smiled inwardly.That
pulsing vein on your forehead would make an impressive book cover shot.
"Find them! And
don't call me back until you do." She slammed the phone down and then hit
the intercom switch. She took a deep breath, purposely calming herself before
speaking. "Jane"
"The Chief of
Staff is already on his way, Madam President. He was at a meeting on the Hill,
but he's coming now. I put the call in as soon as the Deputy Chief of Staff
phoned you."
"God bless you,
Jane." Dev leaned against her desk with her palms against the flat
surface. "Thank you." She sighed. "Are you having fun being
President yet?"
Jane laughed.
"Uh huh. and you're welcome."
The President
switched off the intercom and sheepishly glanced up at Lauren.
"Hold it!"
Lauren commanded, crouching down and changing the angle of the picture, and
focusing the lens.
Dev shook her head and
burst out laughing. She moved around the desk and leaned on its edge, crossing
her long, silk covered-arms across her chest. "Suddenly I feel like a
fashion model." She struck a pose, causing Lauren to giggle.
"You could have
done that, you know been a model. The camera loves you." Lauren lowered
her camera. "Do I want to know what's got you so upset?"
Dev pursed her lips
unhappily. "Ah, my DNA Registration legislation is meeting with some last
minute and very unexpected resistance."
"I knew that was
gonna happen," Lauren said absent-mindedly as she fussed with her camera
lens.
Twin eyebrows jumped.
Lauren shrugged.
"During that meeting last week, well, they just didn't seem like they'd
made up their minds. I didn't believe them when they said they'd support you.
It was those Yankees from
"Well, next time
feel free to warn me, okay?" Dev chuckled. "Speaking of lunch, looks
like I'm skipping it today. There is a little bipartisan butt that needs
kicking." For once the Emancipation Party seemed to unite behind an
issue.It's really not a good idea for you boys to stab me in the back like
that. Time a few people found that out.
"No
problem." Lauren waved a dismissive hand, bringing the camera to her ear
to listen to the film rewind. There were easier ways to take pictures. But she
loved this old camera, enjoying that she had to think to use it. "Want a
spectator? It's been, ooooooh" she put her fingertip to her chin,
pretending to think, "at least a week since I've seen a bipartisan butt
kicking. I need my fix." The writer grinned.
"I'd be honored,
madam." The President jumped down and bowed slightly at the waist before
retaking her perch. "I'll even be your escort." Dev stopped speaking
for a moment and stared intently at Lauren. "Would you vote
‘yes' for my bill? You've heard more than enough about it to make a
well-informed decision."
Lauren sighed
resignedly.Why did Devlyn always do this?She winced then drew in a deep breath.
"Well um"
"Lauren."
Dev's impatient voice dropped an octave.
"No."
"No?!" Dev
exploded off the desk and marched over to other woman.
Lauren shook her head
firmly, adopting a more stubborn pose as Devlyn approached. "No."
"No?"
"Nope."
"You're
joking."
The younger woman
just waited.
Devlyn threw her
hands in the air. "But why? I rejected the Republican proposal requiring
every person to submit a DNA sample at birth."
Lauren lifted a sassy
eyebrow, letting Dev know exactly how she felt about the little suggestion made
by the Speaker of the House.
"My proposal
only registers people when they're arrested. Isn't there asingleDemocrat who
will see reason?"
"Apparently not.
And innocent people get arrested every day," Lauren said reasonably,
opening the door to Dev's office. "It's invasive and creepy. Like Big
Brother or something."
Dev motioned with her
hands as they walked. She was in full ‘persuasion' mode. "We
already fingerprint people when they're arrested. And this will ultimately save
lives and help solve future crimes."
The younger woman
stopped walking. "Fingerprints are not" Lauren shivered and said her
next word with so much distaste that Dev nearly laughed, "blood. You can't
clone people from their fingerprints. And what if someone decided to do
something hinky with all those samples, huh?" Okay, she was half-teasing
about that last part. But she knew Devlyn would bite.
"Arrrrrghhhh! I
don't want to clone anyone! God," Dev rolled her eyes as they turned the
corner and made their way down the hallway leading toward the Green Room.
"They'restillshowing those damned "X-Files" reruns on
television, aren't they?"
Round, gray eyes were
the picture of innocence as the women continued on their way.
Thursday, March 4th
"So," from
the door of Lauren's room, Dev grinned over her mug of coffee, "you want
to take a trip with me?"
"Business or
personal?" The blonde smiled back as she looked up from her journal and at
the President.
"Does it really
matter?"
"I'll need to
know what to pack."
Dev rolled her
shoulders, and with her free hand unbuttoned her blazer, leaving it on.
"It's business. Our protocol specialist, Mrs. Baldridge, will help you
with what to take." She took another sip, then set her ruby red mug on a
coaster on the corner of Lauren's second coffee table. Silently, she gestured
at the couch.
Lauren nodded her
approval and snagged a stack of mail from her desk as she joined the President.
Dev settled down across
from Lauren, bouncing a little on the springy cushion. She looked around
covertly for Gremlin, the Devil Dog. "Your room smells nice," she
commented idly.
"It's the
flowers."
"Umm, nice"
Dev figured Gremlin was hiding someplace and would jump out and growl at her
later. But for now, she'd focus on Grem's mistress. "Lauren, I'd love for
you to come, of course. But I'll understand if you need a break." Though
she didn't like the idea of not seeing the writer every day, Dev did appreciate
that the daily grind could be oppressive at times. "We've been at this for
nearly two solid months. Surely you're getting tired of me."
"Nah."
Lauren stretched. "Compared to Supergeek, who spoke computer gibberish
most of the time, and Cardinal O'Roarke, who napped from
Dev bit the inside of
her cheek. "Gee, thanks."
Lauren laughed softly
as she sorted through her mail. Most of it was junk, which she left unopened,
but she did retain a thick manila envelope that was from Starlight Publishing.
She was certain it was an advance copy of her latest book, but she was slightly
embarrassed by the notion of Dev's seeing this particular piece of work. Lauren
dragged her eyes up from her envelope.
"You're very
dedicated. I appreciate that," Dev commented sincerely.
Lauren flushed with
pleasure. Coming from a true workaholic, that was a big compliment. "So,
where are we going, Madam President?"
"We're going to
the
Lauren gave Dev a
confused look, still fingering the envelope in her hand. "Diplomatic
issues?"
Dev grunted her
agreement. "The whole ‘she's a woman and a demon lesbian'
diplomatic issue." She smiled wryly. "In the Embassy we're
technically on American soil. And what is punishable by death in their country,
is, well, it will be begrudgingly accepted at the
"Sneaky."
Lauren was continually impressed by the way that Dev worked around the
limitations placed on her by her gender and sexual orientation.
Dev chuckled.
"Thank David. That's why he gets the big bucks and bigger headaches."
She gestured at Lauren's hands. "You gonna open that, or would you rather
I leave first?" Dev didn't want to leave at all. But she couldn't take
another second of Lauren picking at that envelope. She was nearly ready to
reach over and rip it open herself.But,she conceded inwardly,that would be just
a tad difficult to explain.
"No!"Okay,
that was way too quick.Lauren cleared her throat awkwardly. "I um you
don't have to leave. I mean, you don't have a meeting or anything, right?"
she asked hopefully.
"Not a single
one, and it's only
Lauren moved to get
up, clutching the envelope. "Let me just put this away. I'm sure it's
nothing"
"Aw, c'mon,
Lauren." Dev smiled charmingly and poked at the slightly dingy, golden
paper. "I'm dying to see what happens next to the intrepid, female
explorer, Adrienne Nash. Or do I have to call you Ms. Gallager when I talk
about your series?"
Lauren looked at Dev
blankly, thinking she must have heard her wrong. She couldn't mean "You
you read these?" The younger woman waved the envelope.
"Oh, yeah!
Devour is more like it. I've read all of them. Been waiting like an idiot for
the new one."
Lauren fell back onto
the sofa limply. "You knew and youstillhired me?"Duh!Of course she
knew. She's the President of the United Friggin' States of
Dev scoffed at the
question. "Your biographies are the best I've ever read. And your
credentials as a biographer and historian are impeccable." Dev picked up
her mug again and took a healthy swallow. "I never have understood the
notion that writers couldn't do both fiction and non-fiction, and still be
respected in each field. Plus... well um..."
"Plus, I use a
pen name for my fiction so I can still ‘pass' as respectable because nobody
knows?" Lauren's voice was resigned, but tinged with sarcasm.
Dev stiffened.
"I control a lot of things. But I don't set the standards of acceptability
for the publishing industry."
Lauren's gaze dropped
to her shoes.Quit being such a bitch about it. It's not her fault you can't own
up to most of the writing you do."Of course you don't. I'm sorry." A
thought occurred to her, and she smiled tentatively, hoping to make up for her
misdirected anger. She handed the envelope to Dev. "Here, enjoy it. A gift
from me to you; the first copy of Lauren Gallager's newest tale."
Devlyn snatched the
book like a little kid who had just been handed her first present on Christmas
morning. She practically squealed with delight. "Ooo, neat!"
Lauren burst out
laughing as Dev tore open the envelope with abandon. The tall woman looked up
as she slipped the book out. "What?" she complained somewhat
bashfully. "You gave it to me. Don't laugh at me now."
Lauren blinked as
Devlyn flipped the book over in her hands, examining it from every angle and
running her fingers over its shiny cover. Then she looked up at her with eyes
so filled with innocent pleasure that they immediately brought to mind
Ashley's, despite the difference in color.
A slow blush worked
its way across Dev's cheeks. "Don't suppose you'd autograph it for
me?"
Mutely, Lauren bobbed
her head.Wow.I can't believe this."I'd be happy to. Let me get a
pen." Before she could move, Dev was seated next to her, eagerly handing
her the book and a pen. "Umm... wow, that was fast. Okay, any particular
way you want this signed?"
"No." Dev
shook her head as she tapped her knees excitedly. "Just think of me as
your biggest, geekiest fan."
Lauren chuckled as
she took the book back, opening it carefully. She'd lay money on the fact that
Devlyn Marlowe didn't break the bindings on books. The tip of her tongue
appeared for just a second as she thought of what to write. Then she quickly
inscribed the book and handed it back. "You're all set."
Dev gingerly opened
the novel, peeking at the inside cover. "To Wonder Woman: Please enjoy it,
my geeky friend. Lauren Gallager." Dev shook her head. "Cute,"
she snorted. "Veeery cute." The President was loving this and it
showed in the sparkle of her eyes and the bright smile that creased her cheeks.
"Well, now I have something to read on the plane."
"Holy
shit!"
Dev jumped, fumbling
with the book as it threatened to fly out of her hands. "What? What is
it?" She searched Lauren's face.
"We'll be taking
the Bat Plane, won't we?"
Dev blew out a relieved
breath, her eyebrow twitching in amused annoyance. "I'm thirty-eight years
old. One more unexpected exclamation like that, and I won't see
thirty-nine." She clutched her chest for effect, and Lauren rolled her
eyes. "And, yes, we'll be aboard Air Force One, if that's what you mean.
And Lauren?"
A pale head tilted.
A reckless grin made
Dev feel like a kid again. "It's so much better than the Bat Plane."
Friday, March 5th
"Come on now,
give me a hug." Dev was on her knees with the children.
The looks of
disappointment on their faces tore at Lauren in a way she never thought
possible.Sweet Jesus, is it always like this? I'd never be able to go anywhere!
"You gonna be
gone long?" Chris asked, his face buried in Dev's long, glossy hair.
"I'll only be
gone as long as I have to, pal. You know that. I'll be back as soon as I
can."
"Miss you."
Aaron gave her a kiss on the cheek as Dev wrapped her other arm around him.
"I'll miss all
you guys. And I promise, when I come home, we'll do pizza and Disney movies all
day on my first Sunday back, okay?"
"Can Lauren and
Grem watch movies and eat pizza too?" Chris asked, pushing his glasses up
his nose, looking at Lauren with a bashful grin.
Dev glanced up at the
writer, giving her a tiny smile.So, you've bewitched my children too,
huh?"If she wants to." Her eyes flicked to Lauren's and held the same
look of adoration that Christopher was currently sporting. " But you'll
have to ask her yourself."
Before Chris could
open his mouth, Lauren answered. She held Dev's penetrating gaze as she spoke.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I enjoy spending time with you
guys," she heard herself say.Huh. I really do. Judd would keel over from a
heart attack if he heard me say that.She glanced over to Chris and wagged her
finger in warning. "But no pizza for Grem. It makes him burp."
Dev winced at the
mention of the dog's name. "Speaking of Gremlin."The hateful little
flea bag."Lauren's gonna need someone to look after him while we're gone,
and we agreed you guys can do it if you want. What do you think?"
The boys cheered, but
Ashley, who was standing next to Emma, only shrugged noncommittally. Dev rose
and moved past the tow-headed boys to her daughter. "Now c'mon,
Moppet." Her dark head tilted in entreaty. "You're the oldest, you
have to agree too."
"‘Kay."
Ashley tried to smile, but it was weak and watery at best.
Dev leaned in and
touched noses with her daughter. "I have a surprise for you."
Despite herself,
Ashley's eyes suddenly glittered with youthful excitement. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Dev
gave a whistle and the door opened. Gremlin came charging into the room,
followed by a
Ashley's eyes grew
wide as saucers when she saw her friend. "Amy!" She bolted past Dev,
her bothers and Lauren to grab the woman around the waist, squeezing as tightly
as she could.
Dev said a prayer of
thanks that she was finally able to do something to make Ashley smile. She knew
it had been a difficult winter for the girl.
Devlyn asked Emma,
"You're sure you're okay with dog sitting?"
"Tch. Why not?
I've been taking care of you for years. The dog might actually listen to
me." The older woman gave a playful poke to Presidential ribs.
"I really
appreciate it too, Emma," Lauren offered, delighted by the motherly
interplay between Emma and Devlyn. "I think he'd be miserable in a kennel
after all the attention he's used to getting from the kids. They love
him."
The nanny smiled
knowingly. "It's springtime." She waved her hand out in front of her.
"It's in the air."
Dev regarded the ugly
black and white dog that looked like his face had been smashed flat by a
cast-iron skillet. She just knew he was a Republican. "Hey, you little
beastie."
Grem's ears perked
up, and his tail began wagging furiously. Then he saw who called him and he
grumbled, baring crooked teeth and mottled gums.
Dev reached into her
pocket and pulled out a small zip-locked baggie. "I've got something for
you," she taunted wickedly. Dropping to the ground, she sat back on her
heels and pulled a treat from the clear plastic, pretending to eat. She moaned
and hummed ‘boy, eating this is one hell of an orgasmic experience'
sounds the entire time.
Lauren unconsciously
licked her lips.
Gremlin took a nervous
step forward, his beady eyes trained on Dev's hand.
Devlyn waved the dog
snack in front of his face, watching as his little nostrils flared with
interest.
"Now you're
bribing my dog?" Lauren's hands moved to her hips. "Good grief, have
you no shame?"
"Nope.
None." Dev shrugged lightly. "I figured if you could be bought for a
double-stuffed Oreo, Gremlin would be ripe for the taking with a few
Snausages."You'd better not make me look stupid in front of your mommy by
biting me, Gremlin!I hear NASA is looking for a few test animals for their next
mission to Mars.Devlyn was careful to hold the treat at the very tips of her
fingers as the dog sniffed it warily. "Oh, yeah. You know you want
it." Dev's eyes narrowed with a predatory glint. "C'mon take
it."
Lauren watched in
fascination as the President of the Unites States and her Pug faced off in a
battle of wills. She was taking even odds.I can't believe I'm seeing this.
But Grem broke first,
snatching the fragrant treat from extended fingers before he retreated behind
Emma's legs. Dev felt a big, satisfied smile edge its way onto her face.
"Ahhh, progress. I wish Congress were that easy." The tall woman put
her palms on her knees and pushed to her feet so she could hand the bag to
Emma. "Keep those handy in case he turns on you."
Emma nodded. "Be
careful, Devlyn Marlowe. These babies need you." She gave the President a
long hug.
"I will, Emma.
And we'll be home soon." Dev disentangled herself and opened her arms to
her children once more. "Last chance. You know just one is never enough
for me." She sighed. "I have to go before Liza has a conniption and
gets the cattle prod after me."
All the kids ran over
and hugged their mother in turn. Ash tugged her down to her level. "Thank
you, Mommy. Amy is the best present ever."
"I'm glad,
Moppet. Take good care of her. She just finished her Secret Service training,
and I think she could use a little TLC."
The girl giggled.
"I will. I promise." Then, without thought, she darted over to Lauren
and threw her arms around her.
Lauren started in
surprise but managed to gently, albeit it a little awkwardly, lower her hands
and softly rub Ashley's back. She wasn't sure what to say and felt a flood of
relief course through her when Ashley spoke first.
"I promise we'll
take good care of Grem, too."
Lauren relaxed and
returned the girl's hug with more vigor. "I know you will, Ash. Have fun
while we're gone."
* * *
Lauren tried not to
let the excitement show in her face as the limousine pulled up to the
plane.It's just a plane. It's just a plane. You've been on a plane before.Her
eyes were riveted on the enormous steel monster.Oh, man, for two Hershey bars
and a window seat on that bad boy, I'd have Dev's baby.Her face turned bright
red as the direction of her thoughts registered.
"I've arranged
for you to have your own office onboard," Dev commented casually,
oblivious to the sometimes profound, but always unique, mental machinations of
her biographer. She leaned closer to Lauren, wondering exactly when it was that
they'd gone from sitting across from each other to sitting side by side. Not
that she was complaining. "It's the office normally reserved for the First
Lady. I um I hope you like it and the plane, too. It's really nice and um...
fast," she babbled.Great, now I sound like a sixteen-year-old trying to
impress a pretty girl with a ride in my Daddy's Corvette.
"Oh, well, I'll
just have to make do. I don't know how I'll manage," Lauren drawled,
fanning herself in mock-distress and doing her best southern belle imitation.
Dev laughed.
"Well, it's only fitting that you have the First Lady's office on Air
Force One since you've been sleeping in her room in the White House." Dev
pulled Lauren's new novel from the bag at her feet and eagerly set it on her
lap. "I don't intend to work any more than I have to on this flight. I'm
going to read."
Lauren's ego
practically purred under Dev's gentle stroking. She never got to enjoy a real
live fan's reaction to her novels. "Any suggestions for the next Adrienne
Nash book? Since you've read them all?"
Dev nodded
emphatically. "Oh, absolutely. She needs a girlfriend."
Lauren crossed her
arms, drawing back from Dev. "Oh, she does, does she?"Could be
interesting. A tall, beautiful one with piercing blue eyes perhaps? That would
sure throw a few readers for a loop.
"Yup!" Dev
grinned. "She'd be much more at peace with herself. More content. And
completely satisfied."
Pale brows lifted.
"That's one hell of a girlfriend."
"Uh huh."
Lauren glanced
sideways at the President. "And what makes you think Adrienne Nash is
interested in women?"
Before Dev could
answer, the car stopped and her door was opened from the outside. She smiled
and climbed out, turning to give the waiting Press a quick wave before
extending her hand to Lauren. With a slight tug, she helped the writer out of
the car. "What makes you think she's not?" Dev asked, pressing her
hand lightly against the small of Lauren's back, giving her a nudge in the
right direction.
"Good
point."
The women were pelted
with a flurry of questions from the waiting Press, their shouts barely heard
above the general hum of car and plane engines and other airport activity. Dev
completely ignored the reporters, but noticed that Lauren's back went ramrod
straight and that her stride slowed after a particularly personal and
inappropriate question was thrown her way. The President leaned down a little
and told Lauren, "Just keep walking. Ignore it."
The blonde woman
lifted her jaw, and Dev felt a flash of worry. She could tell that Lauren was
considering doing or saying something, and Dev shivered when she imagined what
it could be. "Ahh... Lauren, I'm sure whatever you're thinking about doing
would be extremely satisfying."
Lauren nodded
tersely, kicking a pebble across the concrete as she picked up the pace.
"So very satisfying."
"But please
don't. It will only add fuel to the fire."
Dev paused, allowing
Lauren to start the climb up the stairs ahead of her. She was very well aware
of the cameras going off all around them as they boarded. At the top Lauren
paused to wait for Dev, but quickly stepped inside when Dev motioned her back.
"Go inside so they'll leave you alone." The President winked, then
turned at the top of the steps to give a final wave before stepping onboard
herself.
David met them at the
door, as did Liza, who slipped a file into Dev's hand. "We have a call
waiting for you, Madam President."
Dev's head dropped
forward and she groaned. "Of course you do. I'll take it in my office.
David, will you show Lauren to her office and make sure that her computer and
other things were deliv-"
David nodded and gave
Dev a push toward her office. "Everything is ready, and I'll be happy to
show her where she can set up."
Dev gave Lauren an
aggrieved look, then peeled off, following Liza down the hall. Before she
disappeared into her office, she turned around and tapped Lauren's novel,
yelling, "I'm telling you-"
"I'm thinking
about it," Lauren shot back with a grin.
"Thinking about
what?" David gingerly took the writer by the elbow and pointed to the
opposite end of the hallway.
"Lots of
things," the blonde admitted quietly.
David opened the door
to the office and gestured for Lauren to enter. "Wow." She took a
moment to take it all in. "This is incredible. I can't believe I'm on an
airplane."
"Well, it's not
called ‘The Flying Oval Office' for nothing. It really is amazing.
Did you know that about 238 miles of wire wind through the plane? That is more
than twice the wiring found in a typical 747. The wire protects the plane from
electromagnetic pulses generated by a thermonuclear blast. Even in a nuclear
war, we'll still be able to receive electronic signals," he enthused.
The blood drained
from Lauren's face.
"Oh! Sorry. Not
that I suspect a thermonuclear war," David offered quickly.
"Thanks for
clearing that up."
He unbuttoned his
jacket and ran a hand through his close-cropped red hair. Taking a deep breath
he asked, "Can I come in for a moment? I'd like to talk to you for a few
minutes."
Lauren eyed him
seriously, chewing her lip as she wondered if she'd done something wrong. She
and David had been getting along just fine these past few months. Lauren moved
behind her desk and dropped into a soft leather swivel chair. It forced David
to talk to her across the desk and put her in an immediate position of power.
It was a trick she'd subconsciously picked up from Dev. "Sure. Is
something wrong?"
"Truth is,"
David closed the door and took a seat on the couch, skipping over the chair in
front of the desk, "I'm not sure."
"What do you
mean? Is there a problem with the book?" Lauren had agreed to let David
read the rough notes that would form the beginning of the prologue to Dev's
biography. It was mostly background and family information and wouldn't change,
no matter what happened in the next four years. She'd never shared any part of
her preliminary work before, but, as Dev's best friend and the President's
Chief of Staff, she valued David's unique insight.
"No! Everything
looks great so far. Dev is going to love it. She'll get a big chuckle out of
the fact that one of her ancestors was a convicted horse thief. Must be where
her natural talent for politics comes from."
"Then
what?"
"It's Dev."
He looked her directly in the eye. "She's, umm, really opened up to you,
you know?"
Lauren nodded
reluctantly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with where this was going.
"That's true. For a biography to be good, a subject has to open up to the
writer."
"I'm not talking
about the book, Lauren. I'm talking about on a personal level. She's really
taking a chance here. In fact, I haven't seen her warm up to another person so
quickly since..." his words trailed off, and Lauren caught the
significance.
"Samantha?"
Her voice conveyed her astonishment.
David nodded. "I
can see you understand." He stood and buttoned his jacket. "I trust
you not to hurt her. You're the first person in a long time who has seemed to
make her happy." He paused. "Just don't lead her on. Please."
The man turned and quietly left the office.
Dumbfounded, Lauren
blinked several times in rapid succession.Lead her on?Coming to her senses, she
jumped up from her desk. "David, wait!"
The Chief of Staff
stopped and turned around in the hall. "Yeah?"
"You believe the
rumors, don't you?" Lauren lowered her voice, looking around a little
nervously. "The ones about Devlyn and me."
"I'm not sure
what to believe at this point." He placed his hand on the plane wall as he
felt the big machine begin to taxi down the runway. "I'm just asking you
to be careful."
"Then, just like
Devlyn, you're going to have to trust me." She could see the hesitancy in
his eyes. "I'll admit it probably wasn't the smartest professional move
I've ever made. But somewhere in the last two months, we became real friends,
David. Please know that I wouldn't do anything I thought would hurt her. I'm
not leading anyone on."
Her voice was
pleading, and he had no choice but to believe her. He hated being surrounded by
honest people. This was
"I do trust
you." He smiled softly. "And I'm glad she has you for a friend. Now,
if you'll excuse me, I have a call to make myself."
* * *
Lauren's notebook was
in her lap as she sat hunched over on the long sofa in her office aboard the
‘Flying Oval Office', scrawling away. She glanced up at the steward,
who placed the milk on the table in front of her. After so many weeks with Dev,
the writer had grown rather fond of the beverage as well, but she discovered it
had to be ice cold for her to truly enjoy it.Do I need to wonder where this
came from?"Thank you."
"My pleasure,
Ms. Strayer. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, I'm fine,
thanks." She pushed her glasses up, rolling her neck to work out its
tightness before taking the glass. She was amazed that it was, indeed, ice
cold.Are they all mind readers?
Lauren glanced at her
watch. They'd been in the air almost two hours, and she hadn't seen hide nor
hair of Devlyn since they parted in the hallway.Quit your whining. You're a big
girl, and you know she's busy.With a soundless sigh, she went back to her
notebook and her milk.
Dev finally showed up
outside her door almost an hour later. The President gave a light rap and heard
Lauren's answering ‘Come in'.
Blue eyes rolled at
Lauren as Dev marched into the office, arms outstretched in front of her like
Frankenstein's monster. She walked stiff-legged across the room to the couch,
where she collapsed face down. "I'm such a bad mother," she mumbled
into the cushion.
"What?!"
Lauren snorted. "No way."
Dev rolled over,
clutching a small throw pillow to her chest. "I just realized that I'm not
going to be home for Christopher's birthday next week." She folded her
arms around the pillow and tucked it under her chin, looking down the couch at
Lauren. "Maybe I can airmail him a camel."
The writer turned her
body, lifting one arm to rest it on the back of the couch. "Nah, that's
overkill. Besides, you get him a camel, and next he'll want an elephant, and
before you know it: poof! You've got rhinos eating the bushes in the Rose
Garden, and the south lawn is a petting zoo."C'mon, Dev, smile.
Dev's laughter rang
out through the plane so loudly that Lauren wondered if the Press rats, who
were housed near the rear of the plane and went along on every Air Force One
flight, could hear her. Then she got hit in the head with the pillow Dev had
been using.
"Hey, be
nice!" Lauren scolded as she confiscated Dev's pillow and pressed her face
into the soft cloth.
"I'm always
nice." Dev grinned, but the happy expression faded quickly. "I'll
figure out some way to make it up to Christopher." She stopped speaking for
a moment, and a contemplative look crossed her face. Dev's eyes went serious.
"This is the kind of thing he's never going to forget though, isn't
it?"
Lauren felt a pang
deep in her chest. It was only a birthday, right? He would eventually
understand that Dev had pressing commitments that were of global importance
things that couldn't wait for a little boy's party. Lauren smiled sadly at the
President. "No, it's not something he'll ever forget."
Dev nodded slowly and
pushed up off the couch, moving toward the door. She exhaled tiredly.
"That's pretty much what I figured."
Tuesday, March 9th
They had been at the
Embassy for three days and this was the first time that Lauren had had more
than a moment to enjoy her room's balcony. She stared out at the city that
pulsed with life. It was congested and colorful. Foreigners stood out like sore
thumbs, their business suits or touristy shorts and T-shirts clashing with the
native's traditional white robes. Car horns mixed with the angry shouts of
pedestrians and the occasionally whinny from a donkey or horse. It was a
curious mix of old and new world technology, culture, and attitudes that Lauren
found more interesting than appealing.
The writer snapped
off a few photographs, then headed back inside, stepping out of the heavy
perfume of highly seasoned, roasting meats, local pastries, and car exhaust.
She was amazed when
Dev ordered everyone to take their third day ‘in country' to rest and
relax. ‘Everyone', Lauren found out, was a relative term. David was
still working like a madman, as were several aides and advisors on foreign
policy. But most of the other staff, including Dev herself, used the day to
relax.
The President slept
away the entire day, and Lauren suspected that the dark-haired woman was still
fighting a nasty case of jet lag. While she slumbered, David had easily taken
charge, giving orders that Dev not be disturbed for anything. He made it
perfectly clear that she needed to be well rested for the upcoming meetings.
Lauren had managed to
take a nap herself, but felt restless and was up long before Dev. She took the
time to do some exploring and shot two rolls of film, but was hesitant to
venture too far from the executive quarters. There were just too many strange
faces milling about, constantly staring at her and whispering as she, or anyone
connected to Devlyn, passed. No. Lauren preferred to stick close to her
friends, especially the beautiful one who ran the most powerful nation on
earth.
The first meeting was
set for tomorrow morning at
She settled her
camera on a table and opened the door to be greeted by Dev's thousandwatt
smile. Devlyn was holding a garment bag and looking incredibly pleased with
herself. "You know," Lauren started, her hands coming to rest on her
hips, "I've known you long enough now to know that that smile is
trouble." But even as she teased, her eyes worriedly searched Dev's face,
relieved that the lines of fatigue and tension that she'd seen yesterday
appeared to be gone.
"Oh, so that's
how it is, huh? I bring you a present, and you accuse me of causing
trouble." Dev shrugged nonchalantly and threw her nose in the air.
"Fine. I'll just take this reeeeally beautiful, incredibly expensive
evening gown and find some other short, cute blonde to give it to." She
sniffed in mock indignation and turned around, barely clearing Lauren's line of
sight before an enormous grin sprang to her lips.
Lauren's arm shot
out, grabbing the back of Dev's shirt. "Waaaait just a minute, Madam
Commander and Chief!" She tugged the woman into her room and eagerly
closed the door. "Number one, I'm not short"
"You're shorter
than I am."
"Everyone
without male plumbing is shorter than you are, Stretch," Lauren defended.
Dev laughed.
"True."
"And number
two" Lauren held up two fingers.
Dev draped the
garment bag over her arm. Her eyes twinkled. "You're not gonna try and
deny that you're cute, are you?"
"Do I look
stupid?"
Dev opened her mouth,
and Lauren clamped her hand over it. "There's really no need to answer
that, Devlyn."
The President's eyes screamed,
‘Who, me?' But she prudently remained silent.
Lauren smirked and
pulled away her hand. She eyed the bag. "So are you gonna show me? Or do I
have to beg?"
Dev didn't say a
word. Her evil laugh alone was more than enough to make Lauren blush to the
roots of her hair.I love it when she does that,Dev thought affectionately.
"All right, Mighty Mouse ouch!" Dev grasped her arm and scowled.
"I bruise easily, you know!"
"Then you
shouldn't call people names," came the reasonable response.
"You know, I'm
pretty sure it's a federal crime to hit me."
Lauren lifted a brow
as she liberated the garment bag from Dev's arms, noticing it was a tad heavy
for a garment bag. "Call a cop." Her gaze flicked around the room,
looking for a place to hang it, but before she could move, Dev took it back and
held it up for Lauren's easy inspection.
The blonde carefully
unzipped the leather bag. She gasped when the dress came into view. Dev hadn't
lied.Wow."Oh, my." She fingered the black, sequined material
reverently. "It's" She swallowed emotionally. Nobody had ever given
her anything so lovely. "It's beautiful. I can't um I can't believe it's
for me." Suddenly bashful eyes tilted upward, and she gazed at Dev from
beneath pale lashes. "Thanks," she said softly.
Dev sighed
happily.God, Marlowe, she's got you hook, line, and sinker. I'm totally and
irreversibly twitter-pated."It's I mean, it's for the reception
tonight," she explained needlessly, her tongue failing to comply quickly
enough with her brain's command to start talking and stop looking like a moron.
Lauren nodded and
mercifully dropped her gaze from Dev and refocused on the dress.
Once out of the beam
of those intense gray eyes, Dev found she could think much more clearly.
"I personally thought the most beautiful woman in the room should have the
most beautiful dress."
Lauren blushed again,
unsure how she should take these compliments. Dev was as solicitous as a lover,
but surely she didn't feel that way about her. Other than a little harmless
flirting, Dev had never given Lauren any indication that she felt something
other than friendship for her. Still, she was flattered by the attention, and
the way Dev was looking at her caused her belly to flutter nervously and her
palms to go moist.
The biographer
dismissed the most obvious explanation of what she was feeling, chalking up the
sweet-talking to Dev's being well rested, in a really good mood, and charming
as hell. "You know, you're gonna spoil me if you keep this up. I mean,
gee, great big white house, a private plane, permanent dog sitters." She
grinned, scrunching up her nose and wrinkling the corners of her eyes. "I
think I'm ruined for anyone else."
Dev nearly bit her
lip through.From your lips to God's ears,Lauren.
"If I didn't
know better, I'd think you were someone awfully important."
"Nah, I'm just a
geek stalker." She laughed. "Okay, I've got a meeting and Liza is
gonna be here to drag me downstairs by my ear any moment. She has learned too
much from Jane, I tell you, but I'll be back to get you at about six and we'll
go down for the reception. I'd invite you to join me for the meeting, but it
wouldn't go over well."
"I thought the
first meeting was tomorrow?"
"The first
official meeting is tomorrow. This afternoon's is with the Crown Prince. It's
nothing important. Photo op and sound bites for the press, that sort of
thing." Dev grimaced, wondering how much longer she could hold up her arm
before discreetly lowering without looking like a wuss in front of Lauren.
"It'll be boring as hell. And you've already been there and done that a
million times, so please continue to enjoy your day off. If I didn't have to go
I wouldn't. Just relax and enjoy. You can watch the dog and pony show on closed
circuit if you like."
"I'll do
that." She closed her eyes for a moment, scratching just above her
eyebrow. "Umm, please don't tell me I need my password to activate
anything here. It's several thousand miles away at the moment."
"No, everything
here is simple voice activation."
"Finally,
something simple." Lauren rolled her eyes. She studied Dev's face, her
eyes widening with realization. "Jesus, put that down." Without a
warning to Dev, Lauren pulled the bag from her hand. She grunted at its weight
and interestedly peered into the bag. There were shoes in the bottom and
several jewelry boxes. "My goodness, Devlyn! This weighs a ton!"
"Nah. I barely
noticed it," Dev lied. "I just wanted to make sure you had a decent
selection of accessories to go with your surprise." Dev suppressed a grin.
"There are a few baubles in there I hope you'll like." Her fingers
idly played with the bag's zipper. "But I burrowed them. So no losing
them, okay?"
Lauren nodded,
gulping a little. "This wasn't necessary, Devlyn. I could have..."
"Don't be silly,"
Dev admonished gently. "I wanted to." Dev gestured toward the bag,
already picturing how lovely Lauren was going to look. "I'll be back in a
couple of hours to escort you. Unless you've got someone else in mind,"
she commented with forced casualness. Half the Press Corps and a good portion
of her own staff were in love with the beauty.
Lauren shook her
head. "I'm all yours, Madam President."
Now that's more like
it.Dev's heart began to swell. She knew that those simple words shouldn't mean
so much, that they didn't mean what she wanted them to. But still they made her
happy, she found herself lacking the will power or inclination to fight the
feeling. "See you soon then."
When Dev left, Lauren
unzipped the bag and pulled out several pairs of shoes. She held them up to the
dress and, with a little nod, selected a medium black heel with a thin strap
around the ankle. Then she set them aside and pulled out several velvet jewelry
boxes that had Cartier imprinted on them in gold letters.
Grey eyes widened
slightly when she realized that when Dev said she had ‘borrowed'
them, that meant the jewelry was on loan from one of the finest jewelers in the
world. Lauren shook her head in simple disbelief. "Good God, Devlyn. Don't
ever let it be said that you don't know how to make a woman feel special."
She tugged over the dress and let out a nervous breath. "I only hope I can
do all this justice."
* * *
Lauren flopped down
on the bed and ordered the TV on, requesting a translation in English so that
she could watch the photo op. Dev stood proud and tall, looking absolutely
incredible. The power of her presence alone drew every eye to her and captured
the viewer's attention completely.
Almost resentfully,
she dragged her gaze from Dev to inspect the shorter man standing alongside
her, who was undoubtedly Crown Prince Karim Sami Hassan. He was nice enough
looking, she considered thoughtfully, estimating his age somewhere between
twenty-five and thirty. He had a generous mouth and a well-trimmed, dark beard
that disappeared into a thick mass of wavy, black hair. The Prince's olive
coloring made him appear more Mediterranean than Middle Eastern, and his dusky
skin was set off nicely by his loose, golden-colored robes, which were streaked
with red. He wore the traditional headgear of his people.
The United Arab
They spoke quietly
with one another and then shook hands, dragging out the normally quick ritual
for the flashing cameras.
After a few moments,
the Prince leaned over and whispered something to Dev. When she pulled back,
she was still smiling, but something had changed.
Lauren sat up on the
bed and pulled a pillow into her lap, missing Grem at that very moment. She
studied the image, looking into eyes that were normally rich and vibrant, but
now appeared as cold and stony as a grave. "Oh, boy, I do believe that
Madam President is pissed."
* * *
The meeting ended,
and the Press Corps shuffled out of the room. David began making his way over
to Dev, but she waved him off, needing a few moments with the Prince. She did
her best to maintain her calm demeanor, but she could already feel the sneer
forming on her lips.
"Your
Highness." She stopped and cleared her throat. "I appreciate the fact
that you saw Ms. Strayer today on television. And I also appreciate the fact
that you find her an attractive, desirable woman." Dev's nostrils flared.
"But let me make something perfectly clear to you. She isnotapproachable.
And she is most certainlynotinterested in remaining behind in your lovely
country upon my departure." Dev's heart clenched at the very thought.
The man's eyes
narrowed, and he ran the back of his hand over his dark, closely cropped beard.
"I was under the impression that there was no romantic involvement between
you and Ms. Strayer," he said in perfect, though slightly accented,
English. "My people were assured by your people that your press was simply
looking for a sensational story, and that Ms. Strayer was free to be, shall we
say, pursued."
When I find out who
said that, he's walking back to the United States!So what if it's true!Dev's
teeth actually ground together when he looked at her with eyes daring her to
say differently, which she immediately did. "You were misinformed,"
Dev answered flatly. "I'm sure that you understand I must deny our
involvement to the press for appearances' sake. But I assure you, Ms. Strayer
is very much taken. She will be accompanying me to the reception tonight."
The Prince looked Dev
directly in the eye. "She is your lover then?"
"Absolutely,"
she practically snarled, startled by the proprietary ring to her voice.
"But she is not
your wife," he clarified smugly. He tilted his head to the side, waiting
for Dev's response. With a quick jerk of his chin, he kept his own approaching
entourage at bay.
Dev's jaw
clenched.Asswipe isn't getting the picture."That changes
nothing."Except for the fact that if she were my wife, and you were saying
these things, I'd wring your scrawny neck on the spot."The fact remains
that Ms. Strayer isunavailableto you, Your Highness." She straightened to
her full height and looked down at the Prince with barely contained rage.How
dare he?"I trust, Your Highness, that this is a closed issue?"
"This discussion
is over," he agreed amiably, flashing Dev a smile that was anything but
reassuring. "Madam President."
Dev could see that
the Prince was used to getting his way in every matter.Too bad that's not going
to happen with this, junior.Dev stiffened, her body unconsciously responding to
the challenge that was flashing in his eyes. To him, Lauren was still a prize
to be won, and she'd just made things worse by tossing the gauntlet at his
feet.God, Lauren, I hope you trust me this much. Because he's gonna be watching
us like a hawk tonight.
* * *
Dev knocked on
Lauren's door. She nervously ran her hands over her long, white jacket, tugging
on its hem and smoothing it against her wide-legged silk trousers. It wasn't
what she normally would have worn for such an occasion, but it was still formal
attire and she wasn't about to put on a stitch of clothing that would detract
from Lauren tonight.
Despite Dev's loosely
worn hair, elegant jewelry and modest makeup, her outfit would help Prince
Hassan see her as Lauren's escort and his peer, not just a woman. In this male
dominated region of the world, Dev's trousers were more than a fashion statement.Besides,
I'm the President of the United States, I'll wear whatever I damn well please.
Devlyn's mind was a
whirl with tomorrow's likely headlines. She sighed. There was no choice now. If
the Prince found out that she'd outright lied to him about her relationship
with Lauren, the entire trip could be in jeopardy. She had put Lauren's
feelings ahead of a summit that had actually been in the works for more than
ten years. But she wouldn't see Lauren harassed as though she were an object to
be owned.
The door suddenly
swung open, and Dev's breath was simply stolen from her body.
"Stunning," she whispered reverently as wide blue eyes eagerly
absorbed every detail of Lauren's appearance.
Her pale hair had
been swept up into a low knot that rested snuggly on her neck. Several fair
tendrils had already worked their way free and served to frame Lauren's
youthful face in a quietly graceful way. The black sequin dress was strapless,
showing off a slender, succulent neck and slightly muscular shoulders that were
covered with creamy, white skin and dotted with faint freckles. The snug cloth
clung to every curve of the writer's body, outlining firm breasts, a trim waist
and the womanly flair of her hips. Dev found herself wishing it were shorter,
say mid thigh, but this was an evening event, so the floor length gown was
already pushing the limits of propriety by showing so much of those incredible
shoulders.
Dev sucked in a
breath, very conscious of the low burn that had ignited deep in her belly.
"Can I take your
staring at me as though I had sprouted a tail as a good sign?" Lauren
asked a little insecurely. She felt her heat rise to her cheeks. Dev's eyes
raked over her body in a way that was making her pulse flutter happily.
Unfortunately, it was also making her even more nervous than she already was.
Which was pretty damned nervous.
"Wow," Dev
mumbled. "You look" She shook her head, unable to form the
words.Fabulous,her mind screamed.She looks fabulous!Uh oh. Too fabulous. Prince
What's-his-name is gonna drop dead at first sight.
Lauren tucked a wisp
of hair behind her ear, and her earrings glittered in the light. Her hand
dropped to her throat. "Thank you. And for these especially. I feel like
some sort of princess." Her fingers shifted and grazed the sparkling
diamonds wreathing her neck, then moved down to the matching bracelet that hung
loosely around her wrist. She smiled warmly. "I'm a little concerned about
turning into a pumpkin at
"You um"
Lauren laughed helplessly, finding herself tongue-tied and with the
inexplicable urge to run her hands up and down Dev's body.And kiss the hollow
of her throat? Okay, that's new.
"Clean up pretty
good?"No, you cannot lean in and nuzzle that soft- looking cheek.
"Mmm"
Lauren agreed. "That's an understatement, Devlyn."
"Shall we?"
Dev offered the smaller woman her elbow.
"Oh, yeah."
"Wait a second."
Dev frowned a little and pointed back toward the room. "Don't you need
your glasses?"
"Will I have to
read or write?"
"Well, we were
all going to sit around and retake our SATs for fun." Dev slapped her
forehead. "But so much for that. Now what will we do after drinks?"I
have a few suggestions. One of them includes whipped cream andSTOP IT!
Lauren laughed.
"We'd better get going, President Marlowe." Lauren spied Dev's Secret
Service men lurking down the hall. "I'm sure Liza is stroking out
someplace, waiting for you." Lauren tucked her arm around Dev's as they
made their way down the hall.
"Umm
Lauren?"Time to face the music, Marlowe.
"Yes?"
"Do you trust
me?"
* * *
"You did
what?!" Lauren stopped dead in her tracks just as the couple entered the
reception hall. She stared at Dev in disbelief.
The room went dead
silent, and every set of eyes turned to the two women.
"Don't make me
say it again," Dev pleaded under her breath as she grinned at the crowd
and gave a quick wave. "I know by the way your jaw just hit the carpet
that you heard me the first time."
"Devlyn!"
Lauren huffed through her plastered on smile. She was temporarily blinded by a
dozen quick flashes from the press' cameras. "The gossip just started to
die down back home." She spoke without moving her lips. "If we put on
some show tonight, so we can convince Prince Hassan, it's just going to start
all over again."
David rushed to Dev's
side, pushing down his irritation. Dev knew the drill. Why was she being
difficult? She'd been in an unusually foul mood ever since the photo op that
afternoon. "Good evening, Madam President," was what he said.
Devlyn, however,
heard exactly what David meant, which was, ‘Why didn't you wait for
your introduction, bozo?!' "Sorry, David. I was distracted. Besides, I was
already introduced to everyone this afternoon. This is just a little reception.
Relax." She glanced sideways at her Chief of Staff and elbowed him in the
ribs affectionately. "Nice tux. Your tie is crooked, by the way."
"Thanks."
He fussed with the tie until it was straight. "And you know we have to
follow protocol, Madam President."
Prince Hassan made a
bee line for the women, and Dev immediately wrapped her arm around Lauren's
waist, tugging her closer and surprising the hell out of both David and Lauren.
A flurry of camera flashes lit up the room, and the press hounds began to murmur
among themselves. "Let's just skip it and say we didn't, David. I've got
something else I need to take care of right now anyway. If you'll excuse
us?"
David turned round
eyes on Lauren who could only shrug helplessly. "Fine," he mumbled.
"I'll be back in a few moments. I'll handle it."
Dev nodded absently,
her eyes tracking the Prince and the advisors that flanked him like bookends.
Prince Hassan stopped
right in front of Devlyn and Lauren. He motioned his men back a few feet.
"Madam President, it's a pleasure to see you again." But somehow Dev
just couldn't believe him. It might have been the fact that he was looking at
Lauren the entire time he spoke. "I don't believe I've been introduced to
your lovely biographer."
Dev remained
stubbornly silent until Lauren nudged her. "Your Highness, Prince Hassan,
may I present Ms. Lauren Strayer?"
"It's a true
pleasure." Prince Hassan bowed deeply at the waist and grasped Lauren's
hands. He kissed her knuckles, lingering for several seconds too long.
"Hello,"
Lauren replied cordially, wanting her hands back.
Dev fought not to
roll her eyes.If I strangled him, I wonder if it would start a war?Dev knew she
wasn't acting very Presidential. But she couldn't seem to help herself.
"What a lovely
necklace, Ms. Strayer." The Prince gestured to the glittering stones then
let go of one of Lauren's hands to reach out and touch them. Using the grip on
the hand he still held, he tugged Lauren closer.
"Thank
you." Lauren pulled her hand away and discreetly moved out of his reach,
trying not to appear as repulsed as she felt.Okay, now I know why Dev didn't
want him to feel like I was fair game. Yuck."It was a gift from Mad
Devlyn."Her lover would say her name,she admonished herself. Lauren smiled
up at Dev, who glanced back down at her with apologetic eyes.
Prince Hassan
retracted his hand casually, although he felt stung by her actions. "I
trust that you are enjoying all that my lovely nation has to offer."
"Unfortunately,
this is a business trip, Your Highness," Dev interrupted. "We've had
no free time for sight seeing. Perhaps another time."Like ten minutes
after never.
He frowned.
"Perhaps." Then his frown shifted into a smile that the women were
sure onlyhefound charming. "I believe then that I need to make the most
out of our short time together." The man handed a full glass of champagne
to Dev, who took the glass without thinking. Then he turned to Lauren and
smiled broadly. "It seems that I need some more champagne. Would you care
to join me, Ms. Strayer?"
Dev stepped in
between Lauren and the Prince, her temper flaring. "No, she would not, you
son-"
"Why, yes."
Lauren laid a calming hand against Dev's back, then moved around her.
"Thank you, Your Highness. I would be delighted."
The man's chest
immediately puffed out, and he tossed Devlyn a conceited grin.
No unmarried woman
would refuse him. And that a woman could be chosen over him? That was
unthinkable.
"One moment
please, Your Highness. I need to speak with Devlyn." Lauren immediately
grasped Dev's hand and walked them several feet away. She lowered her voice to
a whisper. "Let me handle this, Devlyn."
"I will
not!" Dev whispered back angrily. "He's making a play for you right
in front of me! Of all the arrogant pieces of"
"I know."
Lauren made a face. "He's a pig. But I've got the sneaking suspicion that
you punching him in the nose wouldn't do anything for our two country's
relations." A pale brow lifted. "Right?"
Dev's expression
turned sulky. "I wasn't going to punch him."Yes, I was. Shit. I'm
going insane.
"Uh huh."
Lauren smiled gently. "I know you were only trying to get him to leave me
alone by telling him we were lovers. And for most men, I think that would do
it. But Prince Hassan is apparently the over eager type who needs a little
extra convincing." She patted Dev's arm reassuringly. "Trust
me."
Devlyn exhaled
unhappily. "Do I have a choice?"
Lauren pretended to
think for a moment before she smiled sassily. "Ummm... not really."
Blue eyes took on a
dangerous glint as Dev peeked over her shoulder at the Prince. "I'm going
to be watching him. And if he gets even the tiniest bit out of hand"
"I know. I know.
Now go greet your other guests before you get a reputation for being a horrible
hostess." Lauren squared her shoulders, realizing that she'd never even
had the chance to be nervous in her surroundings. Things had just happened too
quickly. "I'll be fine."
Dev flashed her a
gleaming smile full of admiration and affection. But there was a serious edge
to her voice that garnered the younger woman's complete attention. Piercing
eyes bore straight into Lauren, and they stopped speaking for a long moment as
the rest of the world faded away. "Just don't forget who your escort is
tonight," Dev finally whispered softly, her heart thundering in her
ears.This should be for real. Not some stupid ruse.
Lauren swallowed.
"I won't." Several more seconds passed before their surroundings
seeped back into their consciousness. Lauren closed her eyes for a moment to
clear her head.Time to get this fixed.She purposefully strode over to Prince
Hassan, who had been waiting, stealing furtive glances at the women and
wondering if his bed might be warmed by more than just Lauren tonight. Lauren
wrapped her arm around his and headed them in the general direction of the bar.
"We need to have a little talk."
"I was hoping
you would see me alone."
"I... um... I
wanted to make something clear to you, Your Highness. I thought it best if we
spoke privately. That's all."
"But a woman as
beautiful as you should not be required to think."
Lord, help me. Maybe
I'll be the one to punch him.Prudently, Lauren decided to plow ahead, ignoring
his last remark. "I'm flattered by your attentions, Your
Highness."Gag."But I'm perfectly happy with Devlyn."
"Obviously,
President Marlowe values you, or you would not be attending a function such as
this. But you are merely a lover and not her wife, correct? I have four wives
and several lovers. And it is you that I am interested in tonight."
Lucky them."Be
that as it may, I only have one lover, and I'm not interested in any
others." Lauren was running out of patience quickly. What was it going to
take to put off Romeo? Her imaginary status as Devlyn's lover was apparently
far enough below that of a spouse that Prince Hormones felt free to try his luck.
A server finally passed them, and she snatched a flute of champagne from the
tray, tossing it back in one deep swallow. "Your Highness, I'm trying to
be discreet here. But you've left me no choice but to be rather explicit."
He leaned closer,
obviously extremely interested.
"I
amcompletelysatisfied." Lauren wriggled pale brows, and her voice dropped
to a sexual purr that did an excellent job of conveying inexactlywhat way Dev
satisfied her. "I wouldn't trade Devlyn for ten men." She licked her
lips slowly and tried not to burst out laughing at the look of surprise, then
arousal, that swept across his face. "No offense."
The Prince cleared
his throat, suddenly embarrassed. His respect for the tall American jumped
several notches. "None taken, Ms. Strayer. I'm glad that you are so,"
he paused and smiled with open appreciation, "satisfied." Lauren was
a beauty. But he wasn't foolish enough to chase after a lost cause.
"Thank you. I am
a very lucky woman." Relief flooded her.Finally.Just then David joined
them.Perfect timing."It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I hope
your meetings tomorrow go very smoothly."
"I'm sure they
will. It seems that President Marlowe is a master at getting and keeping what
she desires most."
Lauren ducked her
head and smiled. "I agree. Good night." She turned to David. "I
believe there was someone you wanted to introduce me to?"
David stared at her
blankly.
"Across the
room," she prompted, tilting her head in a direction she's chosen
randomly, hoping it would put her as far away from Prince Dipshit as she could
get.
David's eyes widened
slightly with recognition. "Oh, yes, of course." He quickly scanned
the crowd and threw out a name. "If you'll excuse us, Your Highness?"
The Prince nodded and
insisted on taking Lauren's hand and giving it another little kiss.
"You're a
lifesaver, David," Lauren said softly as soon as they were out of the
Prince's earshot.
He stopped walking
and looked at her curiously. "How'd you know my Secret Service name?"
* * *
The Prince smiled at
Dev. He had managed to avoid her for the past two hours but he was about ready
to retire and decided a quick goodbye was in order. "It seems that your
Ms. Strayer is very much taken," he conceded.
Dev spun around at
the sound of the Prince's voice, and another glass of champagne was thrust into
her hand.
She had downed hers
in one swallow when Lauren and the Prince left in search of a server or the
bar. And even as she tried to mingle, she found her attention drifting across
to Lauren. It was only after Lauren had finally broken away with David, that
she felt comfortable enough to begin mixing with her guests. "I told you
that this afternoon," Dev stated flatly. "What finally convinced
you?"
The young man burst
out laughing. "Ms. Strayer's declaration of her ‘satisfaction'
in your ‘arrangement'."
Dev
blinked.What?Oooooo...Well, thank you, Lauren! She grinned rakishly at the
Prince, who looked as though he would high-five her if he were familiar with
the gesture.
Instead, he slapped
her between the shoulders with gusto. Apparently, Dev had been accepted as
‘one of the boys'. "I have no hard feelings, Madam
President." His brow furrowed a little, not quite understanding why this
whole thing seemed to bother the American President so. Lauren was merely her lover.
President Marlowe was a beautiful and powerful woman, and her nation obviously
accepted her sinful ways. Surely she had dozens of lovers. "She's just a
woman," he finally said, still puzzled but willing to let it go. He waved
a hand dismissively. "Nothing that we should allow to interfere in our
negotiations tomorrow."
"Until tomorrow
then," Dev ground out, needing to make a hasty retreat before she did
something stupid.It'll only make Lauren mad if I go ahead and punch him in the
nose.
"Anxious to get
back to your beautiful blonde?" he laughed. "Ahh... I cannot blame
you a bit. Lucky for me, she can easily be replaced with another beautiful
blonde."
Dev's eyes darkened
with unspent anger, and she moved to shake Prince Hassan's hand. She grasped it
firmly and leaned forward, placing her lips near his ear. "That, Your
Highness, is where you are dead wrong."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Madam President
Chapter IV
April 2021
Sunday, April 4th
"Why so glum,
chum?" David leaned over the chessboard, wondering why he always fell for
that same gambit.
"Oh, I don't
know." Dev sighed, then sipped her brandy. She leaned back in her chair
and watched pensively as David tried to get out of trouble again. Would he
never learn?
They were in the
spare office in the private residence of the White House. It was a cozy room
that Dev had turned into a family game room of sorts. The kids loved it. On
this chilly spring night, however, her babies were fast asleep, as was, Dev
suspected, nearly everyone else in
"The only time
you drink is when you're having women troubles," David said casually, his
eyes never leaving the board.
Dev looked into her
snifter and frowned. "It's brandy, for God's sake. And I certainly don't
have women troubles. No women, no troubles."
"Well, I'm
really glad to hear that."Here goes nothing."Because guess who's in
town this week?"
"The Emperor of
"Noooooooo"
David moved his knight.
Dev leaned forward
and made a move that would allow the game to continue as long as David didn't
do something stupid. She wasn't ready to be alone either. "King of
"Noooooo"
His brows knitted together.Why didn't she go for the quick kill?"Think a
little less political. More, umm, your type."
"My type?"
Dev kicked her long legs out in front of her. "David, I don't have a type."
He leaned back in his
chair, after making his move, and leveled his best brotherly stare at his
friend. "Yeah, I know. And it's about time we changed that."
Dev glared at the
ruddy-skinned man. "David, please don't tell me that you went and did
something incredibly stupid like-"
"I set you up on
a date."
A dark head dropped.
"Oh, God!" Dev set her snifter on the table next to her, its heavy
crystal bottom making a loud thump. Then she changed her mind and irritably
jerked it back up again. "Isn't my life already complicated enough without
you fixing me up? Half the
"And since
you're not," David said sensibly, "there's no reason you shouldn't go
out with Candy Delaney."
Devlyn began choking
on her drink, wincing as the strong liquor stung her sinuses. She covered her
mouth with her fist and tried to breathe through her nose.
"Surprise."
When Dev could
finally speak she managed to gasp, "You mean you fixed me up with
‘C'mere and get a piece of Candy' Delaney? Jesus, David, why didn't
you just hire me a hooker and call the press in to take pictures!"
David chewed the
inside of his cheek unhappily. He was starting to get the idea that the only
person who was going to satisfy Dev was one Lauren Strayer. "I'll have you
know that Candy Delaney is now Candice Delaney,M.D.,and she's in town attending
the Surgeon General's conference on STDs."
"Well, she had
enough of them in college. She should be an expert by now."
"Deeeeeeev"
But he couldn't stifle a laugh.
"You know how I
hate being set up!"
"I set you up
with Samantha, Dev."
"Oh, yeah."
She frowned, slumping back into her seat. "But you'll never get that lucky
again. And I still don't want to be set up now."
"C'mon! You're
being ridiculous!"
"I am not going
out with Candy ‘Check out my crème filling' Delaney!" She leaned
forward and lazily moved her bishop. "Checkmate."
"You're right.
You're not going out. You're the President of the
Dev snorted.
"‘Bout time you remembered that."
"She's coming
here. Friday night,
"How very Andy
Hardy of you."
"She'snot even
going to be here on Friday.She'sgot a date," David said quietly. He knew
the words would sting. But there was no use in Dev's continuing to brood about
it.
Devlyn didn't have to
ask who ‘she' was. Liza had practically been beaming because of it
all week. The President's personal assistant had happily blabbed to everyone
who would listen that Lauren had agreed to go out with her favorite cousin,
Casey Dennis. "Thanks for reminding me, pal." Dev glowered. "I
had almost forgotten," she mumbled sarcastically.And where is that damn FBI
report I ordered on Liza's cousin?! I asked for it hours ago!
David made a face at
the chessboard and lifted his palms in a gesture of defeat.
Dev thought of Lauren
being wined and dined, having an intimate evening out with someone else. They
might hold hands orGod, what if he kisses her? Or she kisses him? And what if
that leads to No. No. No! I will not think about that. I won't!Her face screwed
up with anger, and she knocked David's king across the room with her bishop.
Both sets of eyes
followed the king, as the white, wooden chess piece sailed through the air and
landed in the lit fireplace. It burst instantly into flames, and David gulped
audibly.
"Oh, yeah,
buddy, you're just lucky you won't fit."
Friday, April 9th
Dev sighed as she
entered the hallway. She looked at her Secret Service agent who pushed up out
of his chair and stood the moment she left her room. "Don't suppose you'd
just shoot me now?"
The man paled a
little. "Madam President?"
"Did you ever do
something that you didn't really want to do just to your keep busybody friends
happy?"
He began to relax and
gave her a knowing grin. "Blind date, Madam President?"
"Almost. I
haven't seen her since college." Dev sighed. "Well, at least I made
it clear to my Chief of Staff that he and his wife were coming too." Her
head jerked up when Lauren's door opened several paces in front of her.Oh,
shit. She looks great. Why does she have to look so damned good? If I didn't
know better, I'd almost say she was trying to drive me insane.
They approached each
other very slowly. Lauren slid her purse over her shoulder as she moved
alongside Dev. "So, you ready for the big evening?" She'd heard about
Dev's blind date from Emma. And the thought did not make her happy. Dev had
been looking tired these past few days.She only gets ten free minutes a week as
it is. She should be relaxing or watching TV or reading my book, or
something,Lauren thought petulantly.Not making her life more complicated. So
what if this chick is a big time doctor from Harvard? Big deal. I know I'm not
impressed.
Dev nodded and tried
to sound positive. "Yeah, it'll be nice to see Candy eh Candice um, Dr.
Delaney again." A tiny frown line appeared on Lauren's forehead, and
Devlyn barely stopped herself from reaching out and smoothing it away.
"Well, I should
be going. Liza asked me to come along with her and her boyfriend. Umm... her
cousin is going to be there. And well"
"Really? I
hadn't heard," Dev said casually, hoping no divine being actually kept
track of little white lies, especially where Lauren was concerned. If he did,
she was in deep shit.
Lauren tugged on her
glasses uncomfortably. She felt an inexplicable urge to explain herself to Dev.
"I've been going kind of stir crazy lately. It's been months since I've
really gone out. And she asked um Liza, I mean, and really wanted a fourth person
so her cousin wouldn't feel uncomfortable."Why do I feel like I'm cheating
on her? We're not a couple!
"Oh, I
understand completely."I am going straight to hell."You never know
when you might meet Mr. Right."
Lauren smiled weakly
and shrugged. Somehow she didn't think she'd be meeting Mr. Right tonight.
"Or Ms. Right."
Dev's ears pricked
up. "Huh?" she practically shouted.
"Candice
Delaney?" Lauren clarified, puzzled by Dev's outburst. "Your date
tonight?" Her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. "Um... Emma
mentioned it a couple of days ago. That's how I know her name."And I
haven't been able to think of anything else since.
"Oh.
Right." Dev tried not to look too crestfallen. She tilted her head in the
opposite direction from the one Lauren was heading in. "I'm on my way
there now, as a matter of fact."
Lauren eyed Dev's
casual suit appreciatively, perversely pleased that Dr. Delaney didn't rate a
skirt or heels. "I can see that. That's a pretty outfit."
"Thanks." A
tiny smile edged onto Dev's face. "Same back." Awkwardly, she stuffed
her hands in her pockets and rocked on her heels. "Well, I'll see you
around." But she made no effort to move.
Lauren sighed
wistfully, already sorry she had agreed to Liza's double date offer. She firmly
commanded her feet to move, when what she really wanted to do was stay here and
visit with Devlyn.Ugh. Except that Dev is going to spend the evening with Ms.
Harvard. She sees me all the time. I'm sure I'm the last person she wants to
spend more time with."Yeah. See ya around."
* * *
By the time Lauren's
taxi dropped her off in front of the Been Gi Palace a cloud of depression had
settled over her. She glanced up at the restaurant sign and wrinkled her
nose.Why did I agree to Korean food? I hate not being sure about what I'm ordering.
I'm from
"This is what I
get for wanting a life," she mumbled to herself as she squared her shoulders
and pushed open the restaurant's heavy wooden door, allowing the strong aroma
of the Korean food to waft out onto the sidewalk.
A smiling hostess
immediately rushed to greet her. Lauren slid off her trench coat and draped it
over her arm.
"Hewo, hewo,"
the young woman greeted, bowing her head several times. She looked exceedingly
pleased to see Lauren.
"Hi."
Lauren began bowing her head too, until she caught herself and realized what
she was doing. She stopped and smiled at the petite woman. "I'm here to
meet the Dennis party."
"Party of
one?" the hostess chirped. Her accent was so thick Lauren found herself
leaning forward as though the words might somehow make sense if their volume
were increased.
"No."
The hostess looked
confused. "You no want food?"
"No I mean yes.
I'm meeting some friends here. The Dennis party," Lauren tried again.
"If you no want
food, you just go! This not funny joke." The young woman began shooing
Lauren back toward the door.
"No I do. I mean
yes, I want food."Just not this food.The odor was making her a little
sick. Lauren exhaled impatiently and peered around the small woman.
The restaurant was
dark, illuminated only by the candles dotting the tables and by several
yellow-toned hanging lights over the bar. She squinted as her eyes continued to
adjust to the dim light. Liza was no place to be seen, so she started looking
for Casey, which was no easy task, considering she had no idea what the guy
looked like. A handsome, dark-haired man in a sports coat and tie was sitting
at the end of the bar nursing a drink. The seats on either side of him were
empty.
Lauren decided to
take a chance. She stepped forward, past the hostess, and waved in his
direction. Despite the darkness, the man spotted Lauren and his head popped up.
He smiled broadly, gesturing her over. Lauren sighed in relief. Liza and her
date must just be late.
She turned to the
confused hostess, who had moved back in front of her, apparently prepared to
block her path if necessary. "I found my party. See?" Lauren pointed
to the man who raised his drink in acknowledgement.
The hostess nodded
furiously, finally understanding that Lauren was meeting the man at the bar.
"You go then," she said happily. "I get you table, and waiter
leave menus."
Lauren just stared,
not having understood a blessed word.
"Go!" the
hostess finally huffed. "Tourists so stupid," she grumbled as she
stepped back to the door, her head bobbing again as she greeted an elderly
couple who had just stepped inside.
Lauren took the bull
by the horns and approached the man. He stood up and offered her the seat next
to him.
She extended her
hand, and he shook it briskly. "I'm sorry I'm a little late." She
slid onto the stool next to him. "I'm Laur-"
"That's okay,
honey," he interrupted. His eyes tried their best to focus, but this was
his fifth drink, and things were a little fuzzy around the edges. Still, he
could see enough to know this was the luckiest damned day of his life.
"You were worth the wait." He smiled triumphantly. And his friends
tried to tell him that munching down the worm at the end of a bottle of Cuervo
wasn't really good luck. Ha!
Lauren's eyes
narrowed, and she caught a good look at the man for the first time, noticing
his slightly disheveled shirt and askew necktie. "What's your name?"
The man suddenly
grasped the importance of this question and thought wildly. "John?"
Lauren rolled her
eyes. "More like ‘asshole'." She pushed off the bar.
"Bill?" he
valiantly tried again. "David? Sam? Rick? Steve? Bob? David?"
"You already
said that one."
"It's the right
one then?"
"Nope."
"C'mon! Give me
a hint at least."
"Sorry, pal.
None of those are close to Casey."Thank God.
The woman two seats
down, who had been listening to the exchange with mild amusement, suddenly
jumped to her feet. "Lauren?"
Lauren's eyes jerked
toward the sandy-haired woman. "Yes?"
"I'm so glad to
finally meet you. I'm Liza's cousin, Casey Dennis." She extended her hand,
and Lauren lifted hers in utter shock. "Your date," Casey added when
Lauren continued to stare at her blankly. The writer's hand was as limp as a
spaghetti noodle.
"You're a
woman," Lauren said needlessly, her jaw sagging slightly.Do I look totally
gay or what?
Two eyebrows jumped.
"Yeeeah," Casey drew out the word. "Last time I checked, anyway.
Surely you knew that. I mean, Liza said" She stopped, noticing that Lauren
looked a little spooked. "Hey, are you okay?"
Lauren scratched her
jaw. "Boy, that's a good question."The idea's not totally new to you,
Lauri, and you know it. You've thought about it before. Especially lately. So
don't even think about acting all shocked.
She'd been mildly
interested in a few women over the years. Lauren had wondered, if given the
chance, whether things might have developed beyond friendship. But time marched
on, and the opportunity never knocked. Her marriage to Judd had been one long
study in unfulfillment for them both. So maybe it was time to broaden her
horizons? She'd been skirting the edge of it for years. Lauren had to admit
that it wasn't a lack of interest in women that had held her back. More like a
lack of attraction. Or at least a feeling of attraction that was more than
fleeting.
Attraction should
beher mind immediately hit upon the answer, and she sighed quietlylike what I
feel for Dev.To pretend to be anything other than attracted to Devlyn was
simply a lie, and she knew it. She was drawn to the older woman like a moth to
a flame. Her heart hadn't as much as spared a second thought toward Dev's
gender. Lauren tried not to think that Dev was probably kissing Dr. Delany at
this very moment.
The writer firmly
clamped down on her wandering thoughts and glanced up at Casey, who was,
admittedly, a pretty woman. She concentrated on her for a second, holding her
breath and purposely looking long and deep into Casey's warm brown eyes.
Nothing. No glimmer of interest. No spark of desire. No attraction. No pull. It
was nothing like what she felt with Dev, even from the very first. Lauren
exhaled.But she's not Dev. So stop doing that!
"I'm sorry. And
I'm fine," Lauren finally answered, realizing that she was staring.
"What I meant to say earlier is that you're a woman who looks really
familiar. Have we met?"Okay, that was pathetic.But Casey seemed to buy her
answer without question.
"No, I'm sure
I'd remember you." Casey led the way to the empty table that awaited her
return.
"Where's
Liza?" Lauren hoped the question came off casually, despite the fact that
she was starting to get a little worried.
"Oh, she called
a few minutes ago. Something came up at the White House, and so she and Art
won't be meeting us tonight." Casey smiled as she slid into her seat,
tossing her menu onto the empty place setting next to her. "It's just you
and me for the whole night!"
Lauren's eyebrows
crawled behind her bangs. "Umm wow. The whole evening?" What time was
it? She fought the urge to glance at her watch.Give the woman a chance. If Dev
were interested in you, she wouldn't be dating someone else, right?"That's
great," Lauren said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.The whole
night.
* * *
In the dining room of
the residence, David and Beth chatted with Candy, while Dev tried not to look
totally miserable. She smiled at all the right times and feigned interest in
what was being said as she pushed her pasta around on her plate.
She had lost her
appetite long before dinner even made it to the table. It had been totally
vanquished between the soup and salad; Dev had nearly dislocated her knee by
smacking it into the table when she felt Candy's hand land on her thigh.
Once she had managed
to get Candy's insistent hand off her leg, she looked up to find the woman
openly leering at her. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her
like she was the main course. But coming from Candy it was downright
unappealing. It actually made her a little sick to her stomach.Candice Delaney,
respected MD by day, Superslut by night. Some things just never change.Dev just
shook her head.
She imagined Lauren
looking at her like that, with lust-filled, slate gray eyes, and her cheeks
immediately flamed a bright scarlet.Oh, God.An involuntary moan escaped from
deep in her throat.
The conversation
around her suddenly stopped, and everyone stared.
Okay, that wasn't a
good idea."Hot pasta," Dev explained lamely, fanning the tepid entree.
With dessert, things
went from bad to worse. While David and his wife were lost in their own
conversation, Candy whispered an obscene suggestion to Dev, explaining just how
she'd like to use the cherry sauce once they were alone. Dev cringed at the
mere thought.Not even with someone else's tongue!Her shoulders slumped, and she
tossed her napkin onto the table.How am I gonna survive this? Wonder how
Lauren's doing? Couldn't be any worse than this.
* * *
Lauren's head bobbed
dutifully as she poked her fork around her plate, barely listening to Casey's
endless droning, but fascinated by the 188186stinky conglomeration
ofsomethingthat had been placed in front of her. Were those tiny legs? She
gulped. Or tentacles?I didn't order anything with legs!A mental pause.I think.
"And that's how
I became a medical technician at the morgue."
Lauren nearly dropped
her fork. Her eyes shot upward. "You're what?!"
"A morgue
clerk," Casey enthused, heartened to see that Lauren was as excited about
it as she was. Maybe the writer wasn't as big a dud as she seemed. "It's
such a totally interesting job! Why one time, after a mob hit downtown"
The biographer felt
the blood drain from her face.She's not going to tell me about it, is she? Oh,
God!"So, what's your favorite book?" Lauren changed the subject as
quickly as she could. The legs mixed in with what she thought were noodles on
her plate were nearly enough to make her barf. Hearing about corpses would
surely push her over the edge.
"You know,
people are always asking each other that," Casey commented sagely. "I
don't really have one. I've always preferred the movies." She rattled off
a half dozen titles, none of which Lauren had even heard of. "Aren't those
great? They're my favorites."
"Um sorry, I
haven't seen any of those."
"Oh." Casey
looked mortally wounded, and Lauren wasn't sure whether to feel bad or
relieved. Maybe she could cut the evening short.
Both women were
silent for several awkward moments. "What about travel?" Lauren
prompted. "Have you been anywhere interesting? Or is there someplace you'd
like to visit?"
"No. Not
really."
More painful silence.
"Oh."
Casey took a long
drink of Korean beer. "Astrology is a hobby of mine. I'm a Virgo. What's
your sign?"
"Cancer."
Casey suddenly found
the contents of her glass very interesting. "Oh."
Lauren cocked her
head to the side. "Oh, what? Is that bad or something?"
"No. Not really.
Well, they just aren't very compatible with Virgoans." She shrugged
lightly. "That's all."
No shit,
Sherlock.Lauren covertly studied her watch. Who knew two hours could feel like
this?
"You gonna eat
that?" Without waiting for Lauren to answer, Casey reached over and stuck
her fingers in Lauren's dinner, fishing out something green and slimy that she
immediately popped into her mouth.
Lauren's eyes turned
to slits, and she considered stabbing Casey with her fork. If that had been a
French fry, Casey would be sporting fork marks on her hand right now. But, as
it was, she really wouldn't miss one more piece of slimy thing.
"Umm..."
Casey chewed happily. "Thanks, those are great. And I can't believe you
didn't eat them right off. I can never wait. Ooo have I told you how much I
love the symphony? Have you heard our local symphony? They're fabulous!"
Lauren shook her
head. "I've heard they're wonderful, but I'm not really a big fan of the
symphony. So I haven't seen them myself. But I like opera," she tried
hopefully.
Casey's face twisted
in disgust, and she stated flatly, "I hate opera."
Lauren looked down at
her plate hopelessly. She scooped up a big bite, legs and all, and shoveled it
into her mouth. She reasoned that she'd probably have to be rushed to the
emergency room soon, and then she could escape the date from hell. Or she'd be dead.
Either way worked.
Casey's face suddenly
brightened. "But this body we had down at the morgue last week sort of
looked like one of those fat opera guys."
Lauren didn't even
look up. She just took another enormous bite.
"He was pale and
bloated. I think they fished his carcass out of the river near
* * *
Dev seriously
considered hurting David when he and Beth excused themselves after an
insufferably long dinner, but suggested that the President give Candy a tour.
She grabbed his arm as he was leaving. "I will make you pay for
this!" she growled under her breath, knowing that only David was close
enough to hear her.
"Well, you know
what the old song says," he whispered back. "If you can't be with the
one you love, love the one you're with."
"Not in this
lifetime, David."
"Good night,
Madam President." He leaned over and spoke very quietly into Dev's ear,
"I didn't remember her coming off this strong, Dev. This was a slight
miscalculation on my part. I'm sorry."
Slight?"Good
night, former Chief of Staff."
David and Beth made a
hasty exit, and Dev turned to face the music.Why do I keep hearing "Little
Red Corvette" playing in my mind? Dear God, I promise you I'll do
somethingreallygood for the environment if you'll just get me out of this.
"Well," the
President gestured nervously down the hall, "let's go see what we can find
to look at around here."
"Come on,
Dev." The woman moved closer, and Dev took a step back. "I don't
bite." She grinned. "Unless you ask real nice. How about a tour of
the Executive Bedroom?"
"They say
* * *
"Thanks for the
ride, Casey."Which youinsistedon giving me.
"No problem. I
was coming back here to meet Liza anyway." The women made their way around
to one of the staff entrances just as Casey's phone rang. It was Liza.
"Well, what are you doing there?" Casey practically crowed into her
cell phone. "We just came from there!" She placed her hand over the
receiver and turned to Lauren, who was quietly digging for the ID that was
required before she could sign in and gain entrance to the White House, even
though the guard at the door knew exactly who she was and that she lived there.
God, I'm totally
screwed if I ever lose this thing.Lauren finally pulled it out and signed the
clipboard before turning a bored, slightly frustrated expression on her
companion. "Let me guess," Lauren sighed. "She's at Been
Gi's?"Please don't tell me this means I have to spend anymore time with
you.
"Yup. And she
wants to know if you wouldn't mind giving me the nickel tour." Casey gave
her a hopeful expression. "She doesn't want to drive all the way back. She
lives in the opposite direction."
Lauren held out an
impatient hand. "Let me talk to Liza."
"Okay."
Casey put the phone to her mouth again to say goodbye, but didn't pass it to
Lauren. "Liza says it's not necessary to thank her, that you can do that
on Monday. She, umm... she hung up."
Lauren's shoulders
slumped and she exhaled wearily. Would this date never end? "C'mon, Casey,
the nickel tour is really quick."
* * *
Dev wondered if she
could still be President after her brain finally exploded in her skull. She
figured if Ford could do it, she might be able to get away with it too. There
were bigger stumbling blocks than brain death when it came to the Oval Office.
Devlyn decided that if she had to remove Candy's hand from some part of her
anatomy just one more time, she was going to have to throw ‘polite'
out the window and simply kick Candy out on her ass.
"The umm China
Room is this way." Dev gestured again.
As the pair entered
from one side, Dev was more than relieved to see Lauren enter from the other
doorway. Then the fact that she was with a woman registered just a millisecond
behind that.What in the hell? A woman! Casey is a woman?"Lauren, you're
home." It slipped out before Dev could get her lips and brain in sync with
each other. The one thing that her mouth and brain could readily agree on,
however, was to smile at Lauren. Which she did, quite readily, despite the fact
that she felt hurt. It was clear that Lauren liked women. Just not her.Whoever
didn't get me that FBI report is going to be looking for a new job come Monday.
"Hi,
Devlyn." Lauren smiled warmly at the President, but threw a look of solid
ice at the attractive woman standing next to her. "I don't believe I've
met your friend."
"Oh, yeah."And
what does this Casey woman have that I don't, Lauren Strayer?"Uh, Lauren,
may I present Dr. Candice Delaney? Dr. Delaney, this is Ms. Lauren Strayer, the
very talented young woman who is writing my biography."
Candy slipped a
possessive arm through Dev's, only to have the tall woman shift away. She gave
the President an annoyed look, and then offered her hand and a catty smile to
Lauren, instantly sniffing the blonde out as her competition. "Nice to
meet you, Ms. Strayer. I have some great Dev Marlowe stories from
college," her voice was condescending, "if you need them."
Candy's Bostonian
accent grated on Lauren's nerves like fingernails running down a blackboard.
"Nice to meet you, too. And I see Devlyn everyday. I don't need
anyoldstories. She's perfectly willing to tell me anything I want to
know." The smile she gave Dr. Delaney was every bit as catty as the one
she'd received. "I'm sure that Dev was pleased with how well you've held
up over the years."
Dev snorted, but
tried to cover it by pretending to cough. Then she got a good look at the woman
with Lauren, who hadn't so much as given her the time of day, and whose eyes
were feasting on Candy like she was well, a piece of candy. "Uh, Lauren,
you haven't introduced us to your friend." Dev shifted her gaze back and
forth between the two women, hoping to hell Lauren would pick up on it.
But Lauren was too
busy mentally cataloging every reason that Candy Delaney wasn't nearly good
enough for Devlyn to notice. It wasn't until Dev repeated her question that
Lauren said, "Madam President, may I introduce Casey Dennis, Liza's
cousin?"
Casey completely
ignored Dev and continued to stare lustily at Candy. "Please tell me
you're nottheDr. Candice Delaney," she said in awe. "I read your
article on crabs last year, and I haven't been able to pee in a public restroom
since." Casey's brown eyes grew moist, and her voice trembled. "You
are... I mean,itwas magnificent."
An enormous smile
split Candy's face, and she openly appraised Lauren's date. "Why, thank
you very much, Ms. Dennis. Tell me, are you in the field?" Candy stepped
past Dev, and offered her limp hand to Casey."
"Oh,yeah!"
Lauren said, almost too loudly. "Casey has a fascinating job, and she just
loves to talk and talk about it."
Casey nodded
enthusiastically. "It would be a honor to discuss my passion with someone
as accomplished as you."
Lauren turned her
best southern charm on Casey for the first and last time this evening.
"Casey, darlin', maybe you could give Dr. Delaney a ride back to her
hotel?"
"I'd be
delighted." Casey grinned dumbly.
"Well," Dev
clapped her hands together in sheer joy. "I'm glad that's settled.
Jack!"
A young Secret
Service agent popped into the room. "Yes, Madam President?"
"Would you
please show Ms. Dennis and Dr. Delaney out?"
"But"
"Don't worry,
Jack. I'll be going back to the residence, and I doubt that Ms. Strayer is out
to hurt me."
"Yes, ma'am.
Right this way, ladies." The young man gestured, and the two women were so
wrapped up in talking with each other they barely mumbled a hasty goodnight to
their original dates.
Lauren and Dev both
held their breath until the women were gone. After a few seconds, they sighed
in unison.
"Thank
God," Dev mumbled
"Amen to
that," Lauren agreed.
"What does Casey
do for a living?"
"Morgue attendant."
Dev suddenly took a
big step away from Lauren. "Well, eeeewwww," she teased.
* * *
Dev and Lauren
started back to the residence. Dev stared at her shoes as she walked. She hated
that seeing Lauren with another woman hurt. But it did. A lot, actually. She
was feeling anger as well. Anger that she didn't have a right to. Lauren hadn't
done anything wrong. So she was obviously only interested in Dev as a
friend.That's my problem not hers.Dev shoved back the disappointment that stung
her heart and threatened to give her away by leaking from her eyes. She cleared
her throat, determined to try and salvage a little of her evening and spend it
with her friend.
"Umm,
Lauren?"
"Hmm?"
Lauren stopped walking and faced Dev. She looked up into eyes brimming with sadness
and something else. And she felt a twinge deep in her chest. "Are you
okay?"
"Yeah." Dev
smiled softly. "I, umm, well I didn't really get much to eat tonight.
Don't suppose you'd like to come back to the residence with me. We could order
up a couple of corned beef sandwiches and maybe watch a movie or or
something."And then I can torture myself all night with something I'll
never have.
Lauren felt a
genuine, heartfelt smile stretch her lips for the first time that night.
"I'd love to." That earned her a broad grin from Devlyn, and both
women started for the residence once again. "Dev, I cannot believe I was
ditched by Casey!"
"I'm sorry. Did
you really like her?"Twist the knife, Dev.
"Right,"
Lauren snorted indignantly. "Give me more credit than that please."
Dev sighed inwardly.
Even if Lauren didn't care for her the way she cared for Lauren, she didn't
want to see her friend hurt. "Yeah, well, can you imagine how I
feel?" she teased. "The biggest slut I've ever met just dumped
me..."
"The President
of the
A dark eyebrow rose,
but Dev continued. "... for a morgue clerk. Not a great evening for my
ego."
Lauren chuckled.
"No. I suppose not." Dev's hand brushed hers as they walked, and she
wondered for a brief moment what would happen if she reached out and took it.
"Can I ask you something?" she said in a soft voice.
Dev smiled, placing
her hand gently on the small of Lauren's back as they climbed a short flight of
stairs. "Why would you stop now? You know you can ask me anything."
"You didn't seem
very surprised that Casey was a woman. Were you?" She smiled wryly.Like I
was.
For a moment Devlyn
didn't know what to say. Somehow, she didn't think it was a good idea to tell
Lauren she had nearly swallowed her damned tongue. "Well, I mean, I was
surprised." The words tumbled out nervously. "But what was I supposed
to say? ‘Gee, Lauren, didn't realize you'd gone all lesbian on
me.'"
Lauren slid off her
glasses and tucked them into the front pocket of her blouse. "I didn't
realize that I had either." She held her breath, waiting for Dev's
reaction.
"See, there you
go. It would have been rude for me to point it out in front of your
date."What do you mean, you didn't realize?
Lauren laughed
weakly. "Yeah, I guess it would have."
"So, um, this
was your first date with a woman?"Please don't let me be totally
misunderstanding this conversation.
Lauren nodded as Dev
opened the door to the living room and ushered her inside.
Blue eyes widened a
little. "Wow."
"Yeah, wow. I
guess I've always known there was some interest there," Lauren clarified,
wanting to be honest. "This was just my first actual date... that, um...
didn't include a man." She could sense Dev was upset about something, and
she wasn't sure if that ‘something' was her.
Dev grunted with
satisfaction at the softly lit room and the fireplace, which was already
burning. She chewed on the inside of her lip as she reached for the house
phone. She was dying to hear more from Lauren, but it seemed so personal. Dev
kicked off her shoes, then removed her jacket. "Yes, send up two corned
beef sandwiches with all the trimmings." She paused and looked at Lauren.
"What do you want to drink?"
"Beer. And since
I'm being brave and asking you outright, does it bother you that I like
women?"Something is bothering you. You always chew your lip like that when
you're upset.
Dev took a deep
breath. "Send up an ice bucket full of beer, too."I'm gonna need
it.She put the phone down and put her fists on her hips. "Why would it
bother me? I like women too, in case you hadn't noticed."
Lauren shrugged, her
insecurity showing. "I dunno, Devlyn. We're friends, right?" She
looked up at the older women with an expression so open it was nearly painful
in its intensity.
Dev sighed and took a
seat next to Lauren on the sofa. "I'd really like to think we are. I'm...
well, I'm very fond of you." She really wanted to pull the young woman
into her arms and just hold her until they both felt better. "I always
have such a good time when we're together. And, God, I was so miserable
tonight. Then, when I saw you, I wanted to"Kiss you senseless,she finished
silently.Of course, I'd probably have a heart attack before I got the nerve up
to try it. But it's still a nice thought."Well, let's just say I'm really
glad we're here now."
Lauren let out a
shuddering breath and felt every ounce of tension leave her body. "That's
how I feel too, Devlyn. I just wanted to make sure that that wouldn't change
after you saw me with Casey." Lauren pushed off her shoes and tucked her
legs underneath her until she was sitting Indian style. "So, do you want me
to tell you about my horrendous evening? Or would you like to start?" She
leaned back, her eyes twinkling gently.You are so stupid, Lauri. This is where
you should have been all along.
Saturday, April 10th
When her alarm went
off, Lauren's hand crept out from under the comforter and she slapped it
silent. Then her hand retreated back under the warm thick blankets with the
rest of her body.Wonder what it would take to keep her in bed for just one
morning?She groaned and tossed back the covers, rolling over to look at the
clock.Five A.M. on a Saturday morning. It just doesn't get any more disgusting
than this."Ughhh, the gym today. Thank God, we're not jogging."
She briefly
contemplated covering back up and playing hooky when Grem crawled up from the
foot of the bed and placed his head on her stomach. "Yeah, yeah, I know,
Grem. If you can't take the heat, you shouldn't be in the kitchen.
"But at least
this is your favorite day of the week. In a few hours those kids will be here
just begging for you to come out and play, so they can spoil you rotten."
Gremlin growled contentedly as his mistress rubbed his belly. "And I've got
two phone interviews set up for some of Devlyn's old High School teachers. That
should be interesting, huh?" She pictured an adolescent Devlyn, all gangly
arms and legs, tall, and sparkling baby blue eyes. A smile came to her lips
unbidden.
Lauren gave her pal a
long scratch behind the ears, trying to find the energy to get up and pull her
sweats on so she could go watch Dev sweat. Not that she minded that part. She
laughed softly.
Her attention was
drawn away from her pooch by a loud commotion in the hallway. Not once since
she had been here in residence had she heard anything like it. It sounded like
the world was coming to an end. Lauren jumped out of bed and pulled a robe on
over her pajamas. Haphazardly, she ran her hands through her hair and grabbed
her glasses from the nightstand on the way to the door.
The hallway was
teeming with dark-suited Secret Service agents. She stuck her head out, and a
hand reached out to stop her, until the agent recognized her and allowed her to
step out into the hall.
Mixed in with the Secret
Service were medical personnel. They were dragging or carrying armloads of
equipment into Dev's bedroom. For a brief moment, Lauren could have sworn her
heart stopped.
"What's..."
She cleared her throat and tried again. "What's going on?" She pulled
her robe closed at her throat and ordered her stomach to stop roiling in
protest at what her eyes were seeing.
"The President
won't be going out today, Ms. Strayer. You may go back to bed if you'd
like."
"I didn't ask if
she was going out. I asked what was going on."
"I'm not at
liberty to say, Ms. Strayer." Michael Oaks gave her a frosty smile. They
had stopped pretending they liked each other a long time ago. "And even if
I were, it's none of your concern."
A Secret Service
agent tapped Michael on the shoulder, and his attention shifted away from the
biographer.
Lauren tried to peer
around the milling men, but she wasn't tall enough to see into the outer room
that led to Dev's bedroom. She grabbed another agent as he shuffled past.
"What is going on?! Is she okay?"
He only shrugged and
then continued on his way.
Gray eyes flicked
from face to face, and she heard more raised, panicky voices from inside
Devlyn's room. Then she did the only thing she could think of...
Lauren started
screaming at the top of her lungs. "Emma!" She knew that if something
was wrong with Dev, the nanny would be close by.
The men around her
jumped back as though she were insane. And, from the look on Lauren's face,
more than a few of them were sure that that was, indeed, the case. They knew
better than to touch her, however. For something like that, President Marlowe
would likely have them transferred to the North Pole to guard Santa's ass.
Emma rushed out into
the hallway to see what had happened now. "What in the world is the matter?"
she asked, trying to grasp why Lauren was yelling at the top of her lungs.
Lauren immediately
stopped and composed herself. She was a little lightheaded from her exertion.
"What's wrong with Devlyn? No one will tell me a damned thing!"
"Didn't you tell
her?" Emma looked to Michael Oaks. Her tone was scolding.
"Somebody tell
me!"
"C'mon
inside." Emma shook her head sadly. "You need to see this for
yourself."
Lauren braced herself
for the worst. She swallowed hard and followed Emma into the confusion.
Dev opened her
eyes.Is that Lauren's voice?Then she saw a fair head in the crowd outside her
room. A very raspy voice gave the low order. "Make way for the lady."
The flurry of motion
around the bed ceased for just a moment as the doctors and nurses parted and
allowed Lauren to take a seat on the bed. Without thinking twice, she took
Dev's clammy hand in her own and squeezed gently.
She heard the doctors
talking to Dev, but only got about every other word. Her eyes and her mind were
firmly focused on the sick woman. Lauren was about to ask Dev what was wrong
when a doctor said, "Madam President, we're going to start an IV." He
set down two large test tubes full of crimson blood that he'd drawn from Dev
only seconds before. "You're going to feel another prick."
Lauren's stomach
twisted. The thought of Devlyn being impaled by a sharp object was every bit as
distressing as if they'd informed her that she herself was next. Shivering, she
tore her eyes away from the test tubes.
The doctor stepped
forward, but was stopped dead in his tracks by Dev's grumpy bark. "Get
that damned needle away from me."Can't you see you're freaking out
Lauren?Dev's bleary eyes focused on Lauren's robe, and the pajamas that were
peeking out.God, are those pink elephants on her pajamas? Could she be more
adorable? I wonder what she'd think if I invited her to a slumber
party."This is food poisoning, not the plague. I don't need any IVs."
She motioned weakly toward the tank next to the bed. "Or oxygen."
Lauren cringed at the
words ‘food poisoning', fully knowing how miserable that was, but
totally bewildered by the staff around Devlyn who were acting as if she were on
her deathbed. She expected the flag outside the White House to be flying at
half-mast. Lauren put her face in her hands. "Food poisoning?" she
breathed somewhat shakily, reassuring herself that it wasn't any more serious.
She willed her heart to resume beating.
"Mornin', Mighty
Mouse. You sure do know how to get attention when you want it."
Lauren smiled weakly
and stroked Devlyn's palm with her fingertips. "Well, I got tired of you
hogging the spotlight all the time. And I'll let the Mighty Mouse comment slide
only because you're sick. All this," she motioned around the room to the
doctors and Secret Service agents, "scared the crap out of me, you
know."
Dev rolled her
eyes.God, people overreacted around you when you were President."Sorry
about that. And I'm not really sick. It's just a ruse to get the day off."
But her pale face told a different story.
A tiny, unexpected
laugh escaped Lauren's throat. "How are you feeling?" she asked
gently. But before Dev could answer, she broke in. "And I want an honest
answer, Devlyn."
"Been up the
entire night, worshipping the porcelain Goddess. How do I look?"
"Like
crap."
"Funny, I don't
feel that good."
Lauren's brow creased
with worry. Dev did look terrible. She glanced up at one of the doctors.
"It's just food poisoning, right?" She knew she was being nosey. But
she couldn't help but worry.
The doctor, a short,
middle-aged man with a bald head and slightly protruding belly, looked annoyed
that Lauren had interrupted the notes he was making on Dev's chart. He pulled
two labels from a small packet and placed them on the President's blood
samples, deliberately ignoring the interruption.
Dev's brows creased,
and she turned her head. "Doctor?"
"Yes, Madam
President?" he answered immediately, giving Dev his undivided attention.
"Ms. Strayer
just asked you a question. It would be in your best interest to answer her.
Right now!" Dev growled, pale eyes flashing with sudden anger.
The writer and doctor
jumped, and the man fumbled with the tubes in his hands before settling them on
the tray. "The President appears to have a serious case of Salmonellosis,
which is commonly referred to as ‘food poisoning'. We believe the
culprit was the shrimp from her dinner last night. The blood work is just a
precaution."
Lauren nodded slowly,
trying not to lose her temper at the doctor's rudeness.They don't owe you an
explanation. Get that through your head."Thank you." She turned back
to Dev and smiled sympathetically. "If you'd seen what I ate on my date
last night, you'd never believe that you'd be the one who was sick in
bed."
A nurse approached
Dev with a long needle and a tourniquet once again. "I'm sorry, Madam
President. I'm afraid we need one more sample. One of your doctors just
requested another series of tests be run." She shifted uneasily, not
missing Lauren's wide-eyed stare. "This will need to go to a different
lab. That's why we need another sample."
"Oh, all
right." Dev held out her arm.
The color drained
from Lauren's cheeks. "You're going to... right now..." Darkness
invaded her peripheral vision, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she
bonelessly lurched forward onto Devlyn.
Dev looked down at
the woman who had passed out right in her lap. She grinned tiredly at the
doctor. "I swear to you, doc, this is not the normal reaction to being in
bed with me."
The doctor rolled his
eyes and ordered the nurses to pull the limp blonde off the President. Dev
chuckled and told them just to get Lauren settled next to her. The bed was
queen-sized, and Dev wasn't quite ready to give up her hand. It made her feel
better to know Lauren was close.
On Dev's orders,
reluctantly, one by one, the medical personnel and staff filed out of the room.
Emma raised a sharp eyebrow at Dev and, with a nod from the President, left the
door open a crack before leaving. After the blood had been drawn, then, and
only then, was the young woman brought around with a little help from an
ammonia capsule.
Devlyn waved the
powerful chemical capsule under Lauren's nose, and after only a few seconds,
the shorter woman's head began to thrash. Confused eyes popped open, and she
immediately sat up and looked around the room. She stared at Devlyn and then
back at herself. "We're in bed together?"
Dev coughed and
laughed. "Yes. But I assure you, your integrity is firmly intact, Ms.
Strayer. You passed out in my lap."
"Oh, my God. I
did, didn't I?" Her hands immediately went to her face, where she
straightened her slightly askew glasses. Devlyn's hand covered her own, and
before she knew it the glasses were slid off and placed on the nightstand.
"Thank you." Lauren swallowed hard, feeling her stomach flutter,
although this time it wasn't only because of worry.
Dev smiled gently.
"Would you do me a favor?"
"Anything I
can," Lauren answered sincerely.
Dev completely bit
back the request she wanted to make of the young woman and trudged on with her
second choice. "Well, you see, when I'm sick, I'm like the biggest baby in
the world." She smiled sheepishly. "I hate to be alone. Emma is far
too busy with the children to sit here and hold my hand. Would you stay with
me? We could work on the book if you like."
Lauren nodded mutely.
Of course she wanted to stay. If Devlyn hadn't asked, she would have offered.
"But... um..." She gestured to their half-reclined, pajama-clad
bodies. "Is this okay?"
Dev took a deep
breath. "Well, I have to be here like this, but umm"I can't believe I'm
saying this. She looks so damn good with her hair all mussed and in her
wrinkled pajamas. But I don't want her to be uncomfortable."If you want to
go get a shower and change, I think I can manage for a few minutes."
Lauren was vaguely
disappointed, but Devlyn's words caused her to suddenly feel self-conscious.
"You're right. I don't know what I was thinking coming out of my room like
this. I was just worried... and..."
Dev placed her
fingers against Lauren's lips. "I'm glad you did. Thank you for being worried
about me." Reluctantly, she pulled her hand back, struck by the softness
of those coral lips.
"But it's just
food poisoning, right?" Lauren asked warily, her eyes flicking to the
various pieces of medical equipment that were sitting around the room.
"You'd tell me if it were more serious?"
"This is just a
precaution. If I weren't the President, I'd be left to my own devices just like
any other normal human being. They're not worried about me. They're worried
about their boss."
Lauren frowned.
"That's not true."I'm worried about you.
Dev's eyes started to
grow heavy, and she wondered if the doctor had slipped a little something extra
in her last dose of medication. "Sure itis. But you care" She
couldn't help the fact that she was falling asleep right in the middle of the
conversation. But she had been up all night.
Lauren smiled softly
and whispered, "Don't fight it."
Devlyn's eyes
immediately slid closed, and the dark-haired woman let out a slow, deep breath.
Lauren lifted their intertwined
fingers, looking at them as though she had forgotten she was holding Devlyn's
hand. She pulled up the covers and smoothed them around the taller woman's
body, then glanced at the nearly closed door.Do it. You know you've wanted to
since you walked into the room. ‘Longer than that', her mind
whispered stubbornly.
Refocusing on Devlyn,
she tenderly brushed the President's cheek with her knuckles before dropping a
soft kiss on the warm skin. "Pleasant dreams, Devlyn. I'll be here when
you wake up." Lauren snuggled back into her own side and allowed her eyes
to flutter closed. A gentle peace stole over her as she dropped off to sleep.
* * *
Lauren woke well
before Dev. She lifted her head and looked at the woman. Instinctively, she
raised her hand and checked Dev's forehead for fever. She was relieved to find
it cool, not only because she didn't like the thought of Dev being sick, but
she wasn't really sure if she could tell whether she had a fever or not.
Lauren moved away
slowly, not wanting to wake the President, and retrieved her glasses from the
nightstand. Carefully, she climbed out of the bed and started for her own room.
She paused briefly to speak the Secret Service agent and the nurse seated
outside the room. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Please let her know if
she wakes up in the meantime."
The nurse nodded.
"Yes, Ms. Strayer."
As Lauren walked away
she heard a comment pass between the people she had left behind. "Not
sleeping together, my ass."
Lauren turned on her
heel and marched up to the Secret Service agent and the nurse. She opened her
mouth to deny the rumor, but stopped herself before saying a word. Her mouth
clicked closed, and her lips curved into a delighted, borderline shit-eating
grin. She winked. "You don't know the half of it." Then her tone
cooled. "And you never will. So instead of spending your time gossiping,
why not do your jobs before you end up as a security guard at Sears and an
orderly at the morgue?"It's not like I don't know someone there now,she
thought wryly.
Squaring her
shoulders, she marched back to her room, not quite believing what she'd just
done. She took the fastest shower known to man, threw on her sweats, grabbed
Grem up for the quickest walk of his little life and returned to her room.
Lauren gathered her
notebook and her laptop together and, with a quick nod, started back for Dev's
room. Just as her hand touched the knob, Gremlin began to whine. Her shoulders
drooped, and she pressed her forehead against the door. "Come on, Grem.
Not now. Not today. Please?" she mumbled, turning around. "I'll buy
you the biggest, fluffiest dog bed you've ever seen if you just behave
today."
The dog was not
impressed. He bounded over to his mistress and flipped over on his back,
presenting his belly for a good scratching.
Lauren blew out a
frustrated breath and glanced at her watch. It was still too early for the kids
to be up. "Okay, you can come with me, but you have to promise to behave.
Devlyn doesn't feel well. No growling at her."
The dog rolled over
happily, his tail wagging furiously.
"You little,
snaggle-toothed extortionist," Lauren grumbled. "C'mon. And I mean
it. One growl and you're history." She pulled open the door.
A nurse was just
exiting Dev's room to rejoin the agent outside the door. Lauren gave them a
raised brow before she and Grem disappeared inside. After setting down her
things, she moved to the bed to check on the President. Dev whimpered slightly,
her head tossed from side to side. She seemed to be having trouble breathing,
or she was gagging in her sleep, Lauren couldn't tell which.
"Devlyn?"
Lauren peered down at the President's ashen face.
Pale eyes blinked
open.
"Hey."
Lauren smiled. "What's wrong?" She quickly ran her fingertips over
dry lips. "Is your throat sore, or are you thirsty?"
The brunette shook
her head wildly and groaned piteously. "Laur... you you'd better..."
Lauren leaned in
closer to hear Dev better. "What is it?"
Dev's entire body
convulsed, and she leaned forward and heaved, throwing up all over Lauren's
chest. Lauren's eyes went impossibly wide as warm, chunky liquid slowly slid
down the front of her shirt, pooling in a great blob in her bra. She moaned,
her own stomach furiously roiling at the rancid smell. "Oh, God!
Ewwwwww!" She pawed at her shirt as Dev leaned forward again, and Gremlin
ran out of the room. "No, you don't!" Lauren grabbed a basin from the
nightstand next to Dev's bed and thrust it in front of her just in time to
catch round two.
After a moment that
felt like ten lifetimes, Dev stopped retching and turned red, watery eyes on
her friend. "I'm so," she paused, gagging momentarily on the taste of
bile, "so sorry."
Lauren moved the
basin back under Dev's chin and left it there until she was sure the President
was finished.
"I can't believe
I did that."
The blonde's skin
itched everywhere, and she couldn't believe she'd lasted this long without
puking herself. "Are you all right?" she managed, trying to hold her
breath.
Devlyn nodded, too
mortified and weak to do much else. "Sorry."
"It's
okay." Lauren stood up, consciously not looking down at her shirt.
"Nurse!" she called to the woman, hoping she'd hear her. She expelled
a huge breath when the matronly woman quickly burst through the door.
"Please see to the President. I needI need to I'll be back after I shower.
You'll be okay?" She pushed Dev's bangs back from her eyes.Please say yes.
Please say yes.
Even behind Lauren's
revulsion, Dev could see her genuine concern.You are something else, Lauren. I
could fall in love with somebody like you."Yeah, I'm feeling much better
now." She gave a weak grin. "Save time, use my shower. There are
fresh clothes and robes in the closet. Take what you like. I owe you." Dev
gestured behind Lauren. "Through that door."
Lauren could tell
that Dev was in good hands as two more nurses entered the room and immediately
got to work. They could handle getting Dev cleaned up. Which really wouldn't be
that hard, considering she'd thrown up all over Lauren, not herself. Lauren
needed to get to the bathroom fast.
She stood in the multi-jet
shower in Dev's bathroom. If it weren't for the completely disgusting
circumstances that had brought her here, she'd be impressed by this bathroom.
But for now she was too busy scrubbing herself. She just wanted to get clean.
Very clean.
Twenty minutes later
she emerged, dressed in a set of Dev's sweats which had to be cuffed several
times – towel drying her hair. The clothes were big, but they were
comfortable and after the recent turn of events she decided comfortable was
good.
Lauren rentered
Devlyn's room without being stopped. She stood back and watched as the medical
staff tucked Dev back into bed. They took away her toothbrush and a small
basin, and propped her up against the headboard, putting several pillows at her
back and head. Her bedding and pajamas had been changed, and she was looking
much better. Even a hint of her normal color had returned to formerly pale
cheeks.Thank goodness.
Lauren approached
slowly.
A nurse fluffed the
President's pillow one last time. "We've given her a shot for the
nausea."
"Better late
than never," Lauren mumbled playfully, knowing Dev could hear her.
"And thanks for doing it while I was gone." She was serious about
that last part.
Soon Dev and Lauren
were alone again. "So, have you used the puking thing to get women out of
their clothes before?" Lauren teased. Then she took a seat on the bed next
to Dev. "Next time, just ask."
Dev blushed fiercely,
but quickly recovered. "Don't tease me. I'm not a well woman."
"Oh, trust me, I
know. But at least we can find comfort in the fact that Candy is probably
barfing all over Casey at this very moment."
Both women smiled
broadly at the thought.
"I know
something that will make me feel even better than that." Dev's grin turned
wicked. "Phone activate."
A soothing, female
voice said, "Voice recognition system on. Activation code?"
"I am Devlyn
Marlowe. Code: 18758OHIO6236ACA." Dev waited for the phone to verify her
access code and recognize her voice.
Pale eyebrows lifted
at Dev's far more sophisticated phone set up.She's leaving it on speaker phone?
"Call David
McMillian."
Why do I think David
is in trouble?
After six rings David
picked up his phone.
"David?"
Dev smirked when the only sound she heard was a deep groan. "How you
feelin' this morning, pal?"
"I'm dying, Dev,"
he whined, hoarsely.
"Yeah, me too,
you pain in the ass. We got food poisoning from the shrimp last night; the
shrimp you insisted the cook get specially for Candy ‘the Slut'
Delaney."
"Ohhh,
God."
Dev could almost
imagine David hiding under the covers of his bed. "The doctor says it'll
pass in a few days, David. But you know what?"
He shook his head
unhappily, then remembered there was no video link on this call.
"What?"
"You'll be in
your office bright and early Monday morning."
"Yes, Madam
President, you bitch."
Lauren burst out
laughing and grabbed a spare pillow, pressing it against her face to muffle the
sound.Oh, God. Only David could get away with that.
Dev chuckled.
"And what will I be doing on Monday, you ask?" Dev continued cruelly.
"I'll be taking the day off and spending it in bed. Just me and my body
pillow."And I might be lucky enough to continue enjoying the company of
the beautiful, blonde biographer who is in my room right now. I wonder if I can
make up enough stories about myself to fill up two days.Then Dev's brain kicked
into gear.What am I thinking? I'm a politician for God's sake. No sweat.
David let off a few
more choice words that nearly had Lauren in tears.
"See you Monday.
Oh, and did I mention that you can take the Secret Service on their run? They
get all twitchy without it."
Another loud groan.
Dev laughed wickedly.
"Phone call ended. Code: 18758OHIO6236ACA." She turned to Lauren, who
was shaking her head and smiling at Dev's antics. She shrugged only somewhat
guilty. "Sometimes it's great to be President."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Madam President
Chapter V
May 2021
Monday, May 3 rd
Dev was whistling as
she tucked a newspaper under her arm and gathered up two steaming coffee mugs.
She strode out of her office with Liza trailing behind her. "I just need
ten minutes alone, Liza."
"Can you live
with five?"
"I'll settle for
seven."
"Deal."
David met her in the
hall. "Madam President?"
"Not now, David.
I have a very important meeting."
Rust-colored brows
furrowed. "With whom?" David's mind raced. Had he missed an
appointment?
Dev flashed him a
grin.
The tall man rolled
his eyes. "Never mind. That silly smile says it all. How long will you be,
Madam President? You have a meeting with the Secretary of Health and..."
"Yeah, I know.
Liza has granted me a seven minute parole from my duties as President. Go talk
to Jane. She's got the job until I get back."
David shook his head.
"Have a good time."
"I intend
to." She smirked. Boy, I hope Lauren's in a good mood. She sounded like it
when I asked her to meet me.
Dev walked quickly to
her destination, waving off the small tribe that was following her. She pushed
the door to her destination open with her hip and drew in an appreciative
breath. The earliest of the spring roses were blooming in the Rose Garden, and their
sweet aroma wafted over Dev.
Lauren was sitting on
a bench with her arms across the back and her face turned towards the warm
spring sunlight. Though Dev could see only her profile, she could tell that
Lauren's eyes were closed but she was awake. She looked contented and happy. A
grin tugged at Dev's lips at the sight.
"Morning, Mighty
Mouse." Dev couldn't resist teasing the writer with her Secret Service
name. She got a different reaction every time she used it.
Lauren's body
remained perfectly still as she continued to soak in the morning sun and Dev's
good-natured taunt. "It's amazing. I hear the words, but I know no one is
talking to me," she drawled calmly. "Because there is no one here by
that ridiculous name."
Dev chuckled and took
a seat next to Lauren, nudging her over on the bench. "Do you luuuvv me,
Lauren?" she asked in a playful voice. When a single, questioning, gray
eyeball slowly opened and rolled in her direction, the President offered the
blonde woman a cup of steaming coffee, which just happened to be in Lauren's
very own red mug. It was prepared with two sugars and cream, just the way she
liked it.
Lauren smiled coyly
as she took the warm mug. "Thanks. And I love anyone who brings me coffee
the way I like it."
Dev grabbed the
neatly folded paper from under her arm and made a show of looking at it.
"Huh." She set her mug on the bench and scratched her chin.
"Looks like they're right then. You are cheap and easy." She handed
the paper to the writer. "And cheating on me." Dev pulled a nonexistent
knife from her chest. "Why am I always the last to know?" she moaned
piteously.
Lauren reached for
the paper. Using her hand to block the sun, she scanned the spot where Dev was
pointing, which was the social column. "White House live-in, Lauren Strayer,
was caught rendezvousing with her new love at Been Gi's last month." Her
eyes scanned the rest of the short article, stopping on the small, unflattering
photograph of her getting into Casey's car. Lauren wrinkled her nose.
"God, I have no taste whatsoever. I'm cheating on you with a morgue
attendant named 'Lacey'."
"It would appear
so. Yes." Dev braced herself for the pending explosion. But it never came.
"Oh, well,"
Lauren casually tossed the paper aside and took a sip of coffee, hiding her
smile behind the rim of the cup, "if you'd keep your woman satisfied, I
wouldn't be forced to look elsewhere for romance."
"Ouch!" Dev
clutched her heart. "And just so cold about it, too. Gee, I have all the
popularity of the plague. I can't catch a damned break. My live-in lover andmy
date threw me over for this Casey/Lacey woman. Who knew the morgue had such
appeal?" Dev shook her head, sending her dark hair spilling over one
shoulder. "Maybe I should try the other team. I'm batting zero with my
own."
Lauren burst out
laughing. She bumped shoulders with the older woman. "Don't tell me
something in the press finally got to you? They've been writing about us for
months. And the other team has its faults, too. Trust me."
"I just didn't
want you to see this and explode," Dev explained sincerely. "It's
just another attempt to get a reaction out of us." She leaned back and
tried to act nonchalant about putting her arm over the back of the bench and
dropping it down to rest lightly on Lauren's shoulders. I am sooooo pathetic.
Lauren jerked away at
the feeling of Dev's arm on her shoulder. "What is it? A bug?" She
began slapping where Dev's arm had been, her eyes searching her pale green
blouse.
Dev threw her head
back and laughed. "Might as well have been, the way my luck is running
lately." She sighed and this time, decisively wrapped her arm around
Lauren's shoulders, pulling the younger woman closer to her. "No, it
wasn't a bug." She grinned devilishly and added a belated, "Mighty
Mouse." I should just gather up my courage and ask her out. What's the
worst she can say – no? That wouldn't be a big surprise either. I've got
nothing to lose."Uh... Lauren?"
Lauren blushed when
she realized what Dev had tried to do and what her response had been. Sorry,
Devlyn. And I'm glad it wasn't a bug. She happily snuggled closer. Is she going
to? Oh, my God.Lauren crossed her fingers and toes. "Yes, Devlyn?"
Ask me before I die!
"I was
wondering... I mean... umm..." I am six feet of pure, unadulterated
chicken shit. Good thing I don't run the government the way I run my love life.
If I hada love life, that is.
Dev cleared her
throat and lifted her chin. It was now or never. "Okay. What I wanted to
know was-"
Liza opened the door
to the rose garden looking slightly harried. She winced, clearly seeing she was
interrupting something. "I'm sorry, Madam President..."
Lauren nearly groaned
with disappointment, letting off a string of curse words in her mind.
Dev's mouth clicked
shut, and her head dropped forward. That was not seven minutes!
"There is an
emergency phone call for Ms. Strayer."
Friday, May 7 th
The loudspeaker
crackled, and the school auditorium was alight with excitement, when the school
principal nervously announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, students, staff and
faculty of
The high school band
fired up 'Hail to the Chief', and Dev grinned at Liza as she stuck her notes in
her jacket pocket. She tilted her head toward the drums. "Hey, they're not
bad."
"No, Madam
President. And they were very honored that you picked them to play for
you."
Dev buttoned her
jacket. "Well, for some of these kids it's a big deal." She shrugged.
"Guess I'd better get out there, huh?"
This was another of
Dev's many Community Visits. Her goal was to do at least one a month. They were
already wildly popular, and requests from communities across the nation had
come pouring in. Thus far, however, none of the visits had taken her too far from
These visits were
held in high schools or community centers and were open to the public, but, at
Dev's request, not televised. She wanted the most intimate setting and feeling
possible, and she believed this was her chance to give something back and stay
connected to the people.
"Bzzzz...."
Liza sounded off like a cattle prod in action, just as Jane had taught her.
Dev laughed.
"I'm ready. I'm ready. There's nothing after this, is there, Liza? I want
to try and get home early tonight."
"No, Madam
President." Pushing a few buttons, the tall assistant checked her
electronic organizer and nodded. "This is it."
Dev leaned over to
her assistant. "Don't suppose you've heard from Ms. Strayer."
"I'm sorry,
Madam President. I haven't. I could call and have someone...?"
Dev's eyes strayed to
her Secret Service agent, who was about to give her the cue to walk onto the
stage. "No. That's okay. She'll call if she needs something." Like
me, for instance.Dev inwardly cursed the cabinet meeting that morning that had
kept her from flying out to Tennessee to check on Lauren herself.
Receiving a short nod
from the dark-suited agent, the President strolled onto the stage of the high
school auditorium. She smiled and waved to the crowd as a thousand cameras
clicked furiously, their flickering flashes illuminating the room. Dev had
learned to give everyone a moment or two before she tried to speak. This time
she walked back and forth across the stage, waving and making eye contact with
as many people as she could.
The last time she had
done one of these Community Visits, she'd gone down into the audience, causing
the Secret Service, and David, to go nuts. But after her Chief of Staff had
lectured her incessantly, she did promise to be good.
Once the audience
settled down, she took a seat in a high back, bar-like chair. She smiled at the
crowd and said, "Hi."
The auditorium
exploded into applause.
* * *
Lauren shifted in her
chair as she watched her mother sleep. Dark circles ringed the older woman's
eyes, and her fair hair looked thin and lifeless. They were in
Earlier in the week,
Howard Strayer had called and calmly explained to his daughter that Anna's
depression had taken a turn for the worse... that her mother had steadily been
going down hill since Christmas, really. And that she had tried to take her own
life.
Lauren's mother had
gone grocery shopping and fed the cat before stripping naked and climbing into
the cold, empty bathtub. Howard wasn't sure why, but for whatever reason, she
didn't bother to fill it with any water. Using his razor sharp, fish scaling
knife, she had slit both her wrists to the bone and closed her eyes, patiently
waiting to die.
Anna had burst into
uncontrollable, gut-wrenching sobs when Howard had come home in search of an
aspirin and found her still alive, bleeding profusely.
Lauren stared bleakly
at her mother's ghostly white figure. The sight of her, combined with the
antiseptic smell of the hospital, and the stomach churning tension of the last
day, made her shiver. But Lauren couldn't honestly say she was surprised by the
suicide attempt. The older woman had fought nearly debilitating bouts of
depression all of her adult life. This was the third suicide attempt that
Lauren could remember, the other two haunting her otherwise unremarkable
childhood like annoying, out of place specters.
When Lauren was eight
she'd walked in on her mother trying to cut her wrists. The woman was weeping
and fumbling helplessly with a safety razor, whose blades she'd somehow popped
free of their plastic casing. Lauren had tried to calm her, but in the end was
forced to wait until her mother actually passed out before she could get near
enough to her to help.
On her second attempt
Anna Strayer tried sleeping pills, but ended up vomiting before they could do
much damage. The result was a killer headache and six months of
institutionalization, at the end of which, she was functional. She was sent
home with an armload of anti-depressant drugs and, ironically, a prescription
for sleeping pills... in the event that her insomnia should make a
reappearance.
But those days seemed
far away, even as the pain from this most recent attempt came in fresh waves.
Howard had gone to the cafeteria for a much needed cup of coffee, leaving
Lauren alone in the room with her mother.
Spring sunshine
poured in through the sparkling clean windows, warming the room that was
painted in soothing tones of green. The writer's eyelids felt heavy, but she
knew she was too wired to sleep. Instead, she sat quietly, watching over the
person who was supposed to watch over her.
Lauren felt chiefly
sad. But there was also anger and a crushing guilt, because a big part of her
wondered if her mother wouldn't be better off finding the peace in oblivion she
so obviously craved. Was it selfish to force her to continue when she so
clearly didn't want to? This was no cry for help. Howard was supposed to be
gone for the morning, and, unlike Anna's other attempts, this couldn't be
painted as half-hearted. She had wanted to die. It was as simple and as
complicated as that. Who were the doctors, or Lauren herself, or her father, to
tell her that she couldn't?
Anna stirred, slowly
turning her head toward Lauren and opening her eyes for the first time since
the day before. "Hi, honey," she said softly, when her gaze landed on
her daughter. Anna's expression was the very picture of despair, and Lauren
watched in agony as her mother's face contorted with pain as she took in her
surroundings, realizing what had happened, and what the likely outcome would
be.
"Hi, Mama,"
Lauren croaked weakly. Her chin quivered slightly, but she took a calming
breath and slowly made her way to her mother's bedside. What could she say?
'I'm glad you're alive, even though I know that you're not. Daddy and the
doctors saved you, only so you can spend God knows how long back in the
institution or spaced out on drugs'?
Anna tried to lift
her arms. She looked with wide, dazed eyes at the strong bindings that strapped
her to the bed. "I can't do anything right, can I?" she whispered
brokenly, then turned away from Lauren, wallowing in just one more failure.
A soft knock on the
door caused Lauren's bowed head to swing around.
Anna Strayer tried to
sit up, confusion written all over her face. A low keening sound suddenly
erupted from her throat. Why wouldn't everyone leave her alone?!
"Shh... rest
now, Mama," Lauren said quietly, doing her best to block out the almost
inhuman noise that was hurting her ears and shredding her heart. She tenderly
straightened her mother's covers, intentionally keeping her eyes away from the
wide leather straps that tightly held her arms and legs to the bed, and the
stark white bandages that wrapped her wrists. "I'll go see who it
is."
Lauren bent and
placed an awkward kiss on her mother's cheek, then headed for the door, which
was already being pushed open by a heavy-set black nurse. "Yes?"
Lauren asked, wondering why she'd bothered to knock.
"Ms. Strayer?"
The woman's voice was deep, her thick accent drawing out each word and adding
syllables where there were none.
"Yes."
"You have a
phone call, ma'am. It's from the White House," the nurse said, awe
reflected in her warm chocolate eyes. "The doctor said you could take it
in the conference room, even though it's for staff only. You need to come now.
It's urgent, ma'am."
Lauren nodded slowly,
another kernel of worry blossoming in her belly. What now?"One
second." She turned back to her mother. "I need to take this call for
work, Mama. I'll be right back."
For a moment she
thought her mother hadn't heard her. But then Lauren noticed that the gray
eyes, whose color so closely matched her own, were vacant and unseeing, staring
off into space. She was awake but somewhere else. Lauren had tried to
understand... tried to figure out where her mother went when she just
disappeared inside herself. Tried to reach her and begged her to come home...
It wasn't until she
was a teenager that Lauren fully grasped that that far away place would forever
be Anna Strayer's alone. Despite her best efforts, in her heart she fully
believed that there was no bringing her mother back, no helping her find her
way home. Ever.
With a soundless
sigh, Lauren stepped out into the hall with the nurse. "Let's go."
At the end of the
hallway was a small room with a round table and six chairs, a coffee maker, and
a phone with video link. That was all.
"You can take
the call in here, ma'am. When I get back to the nurse's station I'll tell the
operator to transfer it."
"Do you-"
"I'm
sorry," she nurse said sincerely. "I don't know anything more."
She shut the door quietly, and Lauren wrung her hands for the thirty seconds it
took for the video link to fire into life.
An image of Jane,
from the shoulders up, appeared above the phone and across the small table from
Lauren. The older woman's eyes were teary, and lines of worry cut deeply into
her forehead. "Lauren?"
Lauren paled at the
expression on Jane's face. She licked her lips. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry to
have to be..." Jane paused for a moment to collect herself, and Lauren
felt her anxiety ratchet higher. Whatever it was, it was bad. Very bad.
"It's Dev... there's been an accident. Umm... no, that's not right,"
Jane corrected herself quickly. "She's been shot, Lauren."
Lauren blinked,
staring stupidly at Jane's image, the secretary's words not quite penetrating
her brain. "Wh... what?"
"Devlyn's been
shot, Lauren." This time Jane's voice was firm. "About twenty minutes
ago. David asked me to call you."
Lauren swallowed
around an enormous lump in her throat. Devlyn's been shot? Someone shot her?
Jesus.She felt sick. "Is she... is she?" The blonde woman choked out
the words.
Jane shook her head.
"Not at last report, dear. But we don't know how bad it is yet."
Lauren's eyes
fluttered closed. "Oh, thank God," she muttered softly, her stomach
still roiling. "Thank God." She let out a shuddering breath and
scrubbed her face with slightly shaking hands. "What happened?"
"She had a
speech at a local high school today. When she was leaving the stage someone
opened fire. We're still putting all the information together." Tears
leaked from Jane's eyes and trickled down her round cheeks. "David wanted
me to call you. He didn't want you to think... well, he wanted to make sure you
didn't just hear it on the news."
"So... so, the
kids were at home. They didn't see. They're okay, right?" Lauren asked in
a rush, her mind desperately trying to process what she was being told. I need
to get back there. I need...
"The children
are safe with Emma and Amy. They haven't been told yet. We didn't want to tell
them until we had some real news." Jane hesitated, knowing she was putting
Lauren in a terrible spot just by mentioning it. But she needed to.
"Should I tell David you'll be coming back? Or..."
"No! I'll be
there just as soon as I can." There wasn't a second's hesitation. She
could tell her father on the way out of the hospital. "Where is she?"
"David will send
someone to meet you at the airport. They'll take you to her then. Her location
is classified. They'll be doing a press announcement in about five
minutes."
"Classified?
Shit! Fine. I guess I'll come into Dulles. I'm not sure when." Lauren
rubbed her temples. "And I'm not sure what airline. Maybe I can book a
private plane or..." She was starting to panic.
"Lauren, calm
down, dear. I'll make all the calls. Just go to the airport. We'll get you to
her no matter what. I'll call you on your cell phone and let you know where to
go."
Lauren nodded
furiously. "Okay, okay. I'm leaving right now." She jumped to her
feet, swaying a little as her knees threatened to give way. Lauren was on her
way out of the room before she realized she hadn't said goodbye. She turned
back to Jane. "You tell Devlyn... well... just... you tell her not to do
something stupid like die, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can, Jane."
Without waiting for a reply, Lauren ran out of the room, leaving Jane to hear
the fading sound of her pounding footsteps as they echoed down the hospital
hall.
* * *
David stood at the
front of the limousine, pushing his hands in and out of his pants pockets over
and over again as the private jet he'd arranged to pick up Lauren taxied to a
stop. She'd made it from the hospital in
She was panting by the
time she reached David and skidded to a stop. Please don't let me be too late.
No, David wouldn't be here if she were..."David! Is..."
He waved her off,
indicating the press hounds that were waiting nearby, their cameras snapping
away and tape recorders waiting to pick up any part of the conversation. The
world had simply imploded since the announcement had been made. The Press was
everywhere, dogging every move every White House staffer made. Looking for
hidden meanings behind every activity or decision.
David pulled open the
limo door and hustled Lauren inside the car. The door had barely slammed shut
when the car jerked forward, a police escort clearing their path.
He took a seat across
from her. The first words out of David's mouth once they were alone were,
"She's alive."
Lauren let out a
shuddering breath and said another prayer. But before she could even savor a
moment of relief, a wave of anger assailed her, overwhelming her and guiding
her action. She leaned forward and poked David in the chest with a furious
finger. "Where was all her security, David?!" The volume of her voice
increased with every word. "They were supposed to protect her!"
Guilt clouded his
eyes. "Lauren, she was shot leaving the stage. They reacted quickly,
exactly the way they're trained to. They got her out of there and to the
hospital. They caught the assassin." His jaw clenched. "You know as
well as I do, if someone is determined enough, nothing will stop him!"
Lauren lowered her
hand, but her posture remained challenging. "Those sound like nothing but
excuses to me. If they were doing their job, they would have gotten the
assassin beforeshe was shot!" She slumped back in her seat with her arms
crossed. Lauren knew she was being unreasonable. That she was lashing out at someone
who didn't deserve it. But she was furious, and she felt like she was losing
the tenuous control she had of her emotions. It was too much at the same time.
Her mother. Dev.
David took a chance
and moved next to Lauren who remained deathly still. He could see she was
trembling slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his
shoulder. "Have you cried yet?"
Lauren violently
tried to shove him away, unable to stand the closeness, not wanting to let go
of the fraying emotional thread she was clinging to. But David didn't move. He
was as solid as a rock. Lauren's pushing soon gave way to weak pawing,
punctuated by ragged, pained breaths as the writer fought more with herself
than David. "I... don't... need... to... " She tried to grind out the
words between clenched teeth, but her speech was interrupted by her quivering
chin and by broken sniffles she foggily realized were her own. She felt long
arms tighten around her, and she sank into their warmth and comfort. Another
sniffle and the dam simply broke. Lauren buried her face in David's chest and
began to cry in earnest. For everything.
"That's it. Get
it all out. It's okay," he soothed softly, knowing damn well that he'd be
doing the same thing in his wife's arms tonight. "Get it out before we get
to the hospital."
They traveled several
miles before the hot tears began to slow, and Lauren began to hiccup.
David blew out a deep
breath. "I'm gonna tell you something she'll kill me for later, but you
need to know. In the ambulance, it was you she was calling for."
"Real...
really?" Lauren sniffed, wiping her eyes with the clean, white
handkerchief David pressed into her hand.
He nodded, backing
off a little to give Lauren some breathing room so that she could compose
herself. "Really. She wanted you. She only relaxed after we all assured
her you were on your way back."
Lauren wiped her face
one more time and expelled a shaky sigh. God, I needed that."Thank you,
David." Her eyes conveyed her true regret, and she reached out and
squeezed his forearm gently. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said those
things, especially to you."
He laughed.
"What do you think the first thing I said was? Only I wasn't very nice
about it." He rolled his neck and shoulders, popping the joints.
"It's been a long day. Okay, do you want me to fill you in before we get
there, or do you need more time to just let it all soak in?"
Lauren shook her
head. "No. Tell me now so I don't fall apart at the hospital." She
turned a watery smile on David. "Instead, I'll just fall apart... again...
here with you if I need to."
He gave her a
reassuring smile. "That's what I'm here for. I've got broad
shoulders." David placed his hand over the one Lauren had resting on his
arm. "There were four shots, and Devlyn was hit three times. Once in the
hip, once in the shoulder, and one grazed her head." He stopped when he
saw the color drain from Lauren's face. Poor kid. It's been a helluva couple of
days for her.
Lauren's eyes
widened, and she swallowed against a wave of nausea. "Three times? My God,"
she breathed. Lauren shivered and wrapped her arms around herself in mute
comfort. She pinned David with shiny, determined eyes. "Is she going to be
okay?"
David nodded.
"With rest and lots of help from her friends, yeah, she's gonna be fine.
She got out of a couple of minor surgeries to repair the damage about an hour
ago. They went very well. Dev is a strong woman." He wrapped his arms
around Lauren, and she didn't resist his reassuring touch. "When you see
the video it'll seem worse than it really is; scalp wounds like to bleed a lot.
The shoulder wound was clean and the bullet traveled clear through. The bullet
had to be removed from her hip. She's going to need a lot of TLC and therapy to
get back on her feet. And if her bout with food poisoning was anything to go
by, boy, is she gonna be grumpy. She's not accustomed to being inactive, and I
would imagine we are going to have our hands full."
Lauren wiped her eyes
with the back of her hands. "As long as she's okay. She can be as grumpy
as she wants."
David's laughter rang
out for the first time all day. "You and I are talking about the same
Devlyn Marlowe, aren't we? You know how she gets. You think you're ready for
that?"
Lauren laughed along
with the Chief of Staff. "Umm... well, it sounded good at the time. But
you're right, this is Devlyn we're talking about. So nobodyis ready for
that."
David lowered his
head to give her a very serious look. "She cares for you, Lauren."
There was more to it and he knew it. So a second later he added, "A lot.
She's going to need you now. Need your friendship." He searched to gauge
her a reaction.
Gray eyes brimmed
with tears again. She straightened David's wrinkled suit coat and smiled warmly
at the man she had coming to regard as a friend. "Don't you worry, David.
She's got that." And a lot more.
* * *
Dev's nose began to
twitch as a familiar fragrance washed over her senses. It was so faint that it
was barely detectable, but it was an aroma easily recognizable even in her
drug-induced stupor. Lauren's perfume.Dev forced open impossibly heavy eyelids,
blinking with exaggerated slowness. "Is... she...?" Her voice was
scratchy, and her tongue felt thick and unresponsive. She licked dry lips to
moisten them. "Is Lauren home yet?" She tried to look around the
quiet room, but her mind was in a murky haze brought on by painkillers and the
lingering effects of anesthesia.
Dev felt the bed move
slightly and the heat of another human being press up against her. Her cool,
limp hand was lifted and cradled by two, smaller, warmer ones. "Hiya,
Wonder Woman," a soft, southern voice burred. "I can't leave you
alone for a minute, can I?"
Devlyn tried to
wrestle the silly grin off her face as she blearily focused on Lauren.
"Hey, Mighty Mouse. Know what?"
Lauren ran her
fingertips down Dev's cheek. She's okay. She's here."What, Devlyn?"
"Morphine is my
friend. And I luvvv your accent. Did you know that it slips out more when
you're not thinking? It's so sweet." She giggled, for some reason finding
that incredibly humorous. "There's just so much about you..." Her
rambling paused when her eyes began slipping closed.
Tears filled Lauren's
eyes again, even as she blushed. "Thanks," she chuckled weakly. Her
fingertips gently moved up to trace the bandage circling Devlyn's head. How
that must have felt.The dilated eyes that tried so valiantly to maintain
contact with hers were confused, but hopeful. They held none of the soul weary
despair of her mother's, and Lauren was able to draw a sharp contrast between
the two hospital room scenes, having been in this same position only hours
before.
The President's eyes
opened, rolling up slightly to track Lauren's hand. "Don't worry,
sweetheart, it's too tough to do any real damage." She licked her lips
again and tried to knock on her own head, to demonstrate its hardness, but her
hand fell limply to the bed after valiantly lifting a few inches. Which was
okay, Dev decided, because she had already forgotten why she was raising it.
She let out another small laugh and then began to mumble just loud enough for
every one to hear. "Have I mentioned lately how beautiful I think you
are?" A dreamy expression crossed her face.
Lauren's eyes
flickered around the room, lighting on indulgent, smiling faces. Her blush
deepened. "Oh, God," she muttered, raising her hands to her cheeks to
feel their flaming heat. "Devlyn, um... you know we're not alone right
now, right?" she asked in a low voice. But even in the midst of her
embarrassment, a smile formed unbidden on Lauren's lips. Sweetheart? She thinks
I'mbeautiful?She nearly swooned.
Dev still couldn't
focus her eyes clearly, but she could hear the smile in Lauren's voice.
"Yeah, so? I'm never alone. That's part of my problem." She took a
deep breath. "Do you have any idea how nervous you make me? I babble like
an idiot when I'm around you."
"No, you
don't," Lauren lied. Her tone was mildly scolding, but there was a playful
edge there as well. "You're perfectly charming, and you know it."
David, Jane and
several Secret Service agents politely turned away from the women's
conversation, feeling very much like they were intruding on a private moment.
"How are you
feeling, Devlyn?" Pale brows drew together at the sight of Dev's multiple
IVs, and the machines monitoring her heart rate, blood gases, breathing, and a
host of other things Lauren didn't pretend to understand. She had mentally
prepared herself the best that she could. But it was still so hard, seeing
someone she cared about hurt.
When the President
didn't answer she continued, "You scared the crap out of me again, ya
know?" Lauren cocked her head to the side and smiled at her friend's vain
attempts to keep her eyes pried open. This was second time she'd seen Dev
flanked by hospital equipment. "That's becoming a habit I don't much care
for. We need to work on that."
"Didn't mean
to..." Dev wanted to apologize for scaring Lauren. She didn't want to do
anything that would upset the young woman, but words began to go fuzzy in her
mind. She grumbled like a petulant child trying to fight the irresistible call
of sleep. Her mind began to drift helplessly, but she felt better with the warm
body perched on her bed.
Lauren patted Dev's
chest comfortingly, careful to avoid her heavily bandaged shoulder. She leaned
close to Dev's ear and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before crooning
softly, "Sweet dreams, darlin'. I'll be here when you wake up."
Monday, May 10 th
The agent outside
Dev's hospital room door gave Lauren a small, slightly irritated smile as he
went in search of some caffeine. His replacement was already standing in place,
alongside the President's door. When Lauren entered Dev's room, she was greeted
by the sound of frustrated voices.
"I don't want to
wait!" Dev rasped.