First Lady (43 page)
“What I wouldn’t give for an icy cold beer and fat cheeseburger.”
Beth’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy at the mere thought. “With pickles, onion rings, and gobs and gobs of drippy ketchup.”
“God, yes.”
Both women moaned, then laughed. Their conversation wouldn’t be forgotten. But for now, there was other business at hand.
Lauren set her sights on the Federal Reserve Board Chairman. Looking terribly uncomfortable, he was standing all alone and stuffing his mouth with meatballs and other hors d’oeuvres. She gave her dress a discreet tug and prepared herself for what she assumed would be the most boring conversation of her entire life. With a quick nod to herself, she was ready. “Let’s go.”
*
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*
Dinner, which Lauren had to admit had been nothing short of delicious, had come and gone, and now was the time for coffee and socializing and working the beautifully decorated room, before the band would strike up a waltz and couples would take to the dance floor.
Devlyn had just bent her head to whisper something in Lauren’s ear when she saw Kenyan President Johibhi and his wife, smiling and heading their way. Devlyn guided her over to yet another spot in the room and Lauren smiled when she realized they were moving towards the President and his wife.
“President Johibhi.” Dev took the man’s hand. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay?”
“Ah, Madam President, very much so.” His voice had a pleasant lilt and cadence that made Lauren smile. When she offered her hand in greeting, the slender man promptly brought it his lips and kissed it.
“It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Strayer."
“I’m very pleased to meet you as well.” Lauren said.
The man gave her a radiant smile in return. “May I present my wife Ngini?” he announced, stepping slightly away from the brightly dressed woman so that both the President and Lauren could greet her.
“How are your daughters Akinyi, Wairimu, Muthoni, Sikudhani, and Eucabeth? I trust they are all enjoying their time at the
Lauren, for the umpteenth time that night, tried not to let her jaw hit the floor as Ngini, Devlyn and President Johibhi chatted happily about college life and the girls’ majors. I’ve married Rain Woman. How in the hell does she remember all this? She forgot Aaron’s name last week when he went streaking through the living room after his bath!
When their conversation was through and while they were on their way back to the dance floor, Lauren whispered, “You quoted everything from three different countries' gross national product to the name of Prime Minister Foster’s cat! You’re amazing, but you’re not that amazing. What’s up?”
They stopped on the dance floor and faced each other. Devlyn took Lauren’s hand, grateful for the opportunity to pull her close. When the music began, they moved around the room with the practiced ease of two women who knew each other’s bodies well… and had had lots and lots of lessons. “Ask me later,” Devlyn murmured. “But… um, do you really think I’m amazing?”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “You know I do. You just want me to say it again.” They laughed, and Lauren closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the mesmerizing strains of a familiar waltz.
*
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*
Dev crashed into their bed face first. The long night was finally over, and her voice was nearly gone from talking with so many people. Sleeping on this very spot, clothes and all, was a very good idea, she decided. “Tell everyone I died,” she groaned when she heard the door close.
“Don’t joke about that, Devlyn. It’s not even close to funny.”
Dev rolled over and gazed up at Lauren, who was standing at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” Dev looked away. “Are you mad at me about this weekend?”
Lauren sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not mad, Devlyn. But I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Unzip me?”
Devlyn sat up and set to work on Lauren’s dress. “I’ll make it up to you and the kids.”
“And who's going to make it up to you?” the smaller woman asked quietly.
Dev’s hands paused as she took in the suddenly rigid posture of Lauren’s back. She didn’t say a word, fully aware that she didn’t have a good answer for that. When she finished with Lauren’s zipper, she lay back down and changed the subject.
“Hey, would you be horribly upset if I got this cut?” She tugged on her own, dark locks.
Lauren allowed the subject change without protest, deciding she wouldn’t make any progress at
and admitting to herself that Devlyn wouldn’t put up with “handling.” She needed a plan of action. “Why would you want to do that?” She pulled Devlyn’s shoes off and then slipped out of her own dress, letting it pool at her feet.
“I dunno. I’ve always heard that when a woman reaches a certain age she’s too old for long hair.”
Lauren stepped out of her dress and tossed it over a nearby chair, deciding there was no use in hanging up what the White House laundry would dry clean the next day anyway. “Mmm… And do you agree with that?”
“I guess so. I mean, I’m not sure. Maybe.” She scooted over as Lauren climbed onto the bed wearing only a skimpy black slip. “Oooo… that’s nice.” Devlyn drew her fingertip across the smooth material as Lauren snuggled up to her.
“It’s your hair, darlin’,” Lauren said on a yawn, her breath warming Dev’s neck. She turned and nuzzled the strands in question and drew in a happy breath. “You don’t need my permission to cut it. But if you’re asking my opinion, I happen to think it’s beautiful the way it is.”
“And if I get it cut?”
“I’m sure it will still look beautiful.” She kissed Devlyn’s cheek and laid her head on a warm shoulder. “There’ll just be less of it.” Her fingers sneaked over and began undoing Dev’s buttons. “You’re not going to sleep in this, right?” She gave the green material a little tug.
Dev yawned. “Depends on how fast your fingers are.”
“Devlyn?”
“Yeah?”
Dev’s eyes slid closed and she grimaced; they felt dry and itchy.
“How did you know everyone’s hometown and spouse’s name and a million other things tonight? God, you didn’t slip once.”
“Ahhh, yes,” Dev grinned, “my secret.” She crooked her finger. “C’mon here.”
Pale brows jumped. “If I were anymore ‘here’ we’d be sharing the same skin.”
“That does sound sort of nice, though, doesn’t it?” Dev turned her head and brushed her lips against the tip of Lauren’s nose.
“Focus, Devil.”
Dev laughed. “I hate to ruin your impression of my performance tonight. But if you insist.” She opened her eyes and looked into Lauren’s from very close range, not even blinking.
There was a few seconds of silence before Lauren said, “Are you trying to say that you hypnotized them and me? If you are, then I’m truly impressed.”
Dev rolled her eyes. “No, silly. Look at my eyes.”
Lauren smiled. “If I do then I’m going to be forced to start kissing you.” Then her expression changed as she took a slightly harder look. The light could be better for doing an up-close examination but she was almost sure…
“Are you wearing contact lenses?” While they were no longer used to correct vision, they were still common for those who wanted to change their natural eye color. “Your baby blues are not fake!” She gave Dev a horrified look. “I know it!”
“Nope, they’re very real. But these contacts are special. They each contain a micro processor.”
“What?” Lauren gasped, prying Dev’s eyes open with inquisitive fingers and staring at them from very close range. “You’re kidding. I don’t see a thing.”
Dev chuckled softly, doing her best not to let the organs in question cross. “Well, that is the point. These babies are still experimental and will have many… err… classified uses.” When Lauren backed off, she blinked a few times as she tried to refocus on the pretty face so close to her own. “But one of their many uses I got to test out tonight. When I look someone in the eye, a retinal identification scan is performed and a mini-biography that includes relevant political and personal information appears next to their head in red letters. That only I can see, of course.”
For a moment Lauren was speechless. Then, “Oh my God. Those were in a James Bond movie from a couple of years ago. I didn’t know they were real!”
“They weren’t.” Dev grinned. “Then.”
“I want a pair!”
“Too bad they cost about 3 million bucks a piece, eh?” With a pitiful groan, Devlyn climbed out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to remove the contacts, glad that Lauren’s question had reminded her that she was wearing them.
“Christmas is coming in a mere four months!” Lauren called after Dev as she wiggled her way under the covers.
Dev poked her head out of the bathroom and stuck her tongue out at her mate. “Sorry, honey, but unless Santa joins the CIA, these babies will not be in your stocking.”
*
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*
LAUREN SAT BACK in the seat and pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing the spots that became slightly irritated by her glasses if she wore them for too long. She considered what Devlyn had been telling her for months, that the minor surgery that would correct her vision would be worth it in the long run. But as always, Lauren couldn’t bear the thought. Glasses were fine. The problem was, she’d been wearing hers non-stop since 6 that morning, when she generally used them only to read or write.
She’d just finished an excellent meeting with a long time associate of Devlyn’s. The man used to be the head of
From the back seat of a silver-colored sedan, Lauren watched the scenery slowly pass. The driver and front passenger were both Secret Service Agents. Sitting alongside Lauren was her new administrative assistant, Carol Becker, a fresh-faced Stanford graduate whose salary was paid 50 percent by the White House and 50 percent by Starlight Publishing.
“Lauren?”
Lauren turned and smiled at Carol. It had taken nearly two weeks for the woman to start using her first name as Lauren had requested many, many times. “Can we switch to some White House business, ma’am.”
Lauren rolled her eyes at the word “ma’am,” vowing to work on that later. “Sure, Ms. Becker,” she said dramatically, laughing a little when Carol’s eyebrows jumped perceptibly. Heh. “But only if we must.”
Carol looked at her watch and nodded. “We must.” She indicated a large file folder on the floor.
“Mrs. McMillian indicated that you would be releasing your guidelines on academic achievement next week. But she wanted to make sure you saw these papers first.”
Lauren’s eyes turned to slits. “She did, huh?” Dammit, Beth. You know already know how I feel about this.
Carol looked a little unsure of herself. “Ummm… yes.”
“I see.” Lauren took off her glasses and tossed them on the soft leather seat next to her. “You can tell Beth that I don’t need to see those papers, because, as I indicated before, I won’t be releasing anything to the public. Especially when I don’t know anything about the subject matter.”
“If you read what was in the folder, you would know something about it,” Carol offered reasonably, biting her lip at her own playful impertinence.
Lauren snorted. “No wonder Beth likes you so much.” She let out a soft sigh, then Carol watched in surprise as the blonde’s expression turned serious in a flash of an eye. “Rest assured, Carol, I won’t be releasing any recommendations. I speak only for myself, or,” she corrected herself, “occasionally for Devlyn, but not the Emancipation Party. A few minutes of reading and sharing a bed with the President doesn’t give me the sort of background necessary to make serious recommendations to strangers. I don’t care what prior First Ladies have done.” Lauren pointed to the folders near Carol’s feet with an irritated finger. “Those contain the Emancipation Party’s recommendations. Not mine.” She cocked her head to the side, her eyes sparking just a little. “Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Carol swallowed. “We’re clear.”
Lauren consciously softened her gaze. “Don’t worry.” Her voice took on added warmth. “I’ll talk to Beth so that you won’t be caught in the middle of things, okay?”
Carol visibly relaxed, her shoulders slumping with pure relief. “Thanks.” She smiled and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket when it rang. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
Lauren nodded and closed her eyes to block out the late afternoon glare of the sun. She leaned her head against the air-conditioning-cooled window and after only a moment, felt that familiar, slightly dislocated sensation of being almost asleep.
