Page 36 of Caught By the Chief of Staff

“We’re just learning how to be parents together,” I explain. “I’ve had you all to myself for eight years now, and Dad just wants to get to be in Rachel’s world too.”

“I like that,” she says as I pull into the drop-off line at her school.

“I thought you would.” I smile back.

“I love you, Mom!” she says just before she throws open the door and jumps out.

“I love you too! Have a good day.” And then one of the teachers smiles at me before shutting the door that my daughter forgot to close when she saw one of her friends and took off.

I spend the rest of my commute wondering how I’m going to tell my best friend I need to leave. I can’t tell them the truth, but I also can’t be cruel. I wish I could tell Grace and Jules what’s really going on, but then Grace would want to involve the president, and involving Jake would mean involving Rick. And that’s a risk I just can’t take.

I park my car in the staff lot and badge in through the marines guarding the staff entrances. I smile and thank them for scanning my purse and then make my way down the hall. I’m almost to my little office amongst the first lady’s staff spaces, when I see Rick stalking down the hall like an angry tiger. I duck back into a little alcove.

“Have you seen Cara?” I hear him ask someone.

“No, I haven’t,” they reply. “I’m sure she’ll be here eventually. Is she supposed to work today?”

I am, but I’ll call in sick if it means avoiding Rick for another day. Although he lives next door, so I’m sure that won’t help matters. Rick will just come over when he’s tired of being avoided.

“She must have hit some traffic,” the other guy says. “I have a meeting. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Rick says absentmindedly. “I’ll see you around.”

I stay hidden in my spot until I hear footsteps trail away. My heart is beating so loud in my ears that I’m surprised I could hear them over it. My phone buzzes in the oversized hobo bag on my shoulder. Thank God I keep it on silent or it would have given me away. I pull it out of my purse and feel my stomach plummet to my toes.

RICK: Where are you? We need to talk.

I don’t even unlock it. I just read his terse message on the lock screen. I don’t want him to get a Read message and know I know he’s looking for me and I’m hiding somewhere. Unfortunately for me, another message buzzes before I can drop the offending phone back in my bag.

RICK: I know you’re here. The marine on duty told me you checked in.

Oh good, now he’s using the White House Security Detail to keep tabs on his ex-wife.Real classy, asshole.My heart pangs in my chest even though I’m irritated with him for his invasion into my work life. I still hurt. I want to be near him. I would run to him and tell him everything if I could, but it’s just not safe.

RICK: I have to go into a meeting. Everyone is waiting on me, and the look Jake is giving me now is not making me happy.

Thank God he’s going to be occupied. Hopefully, I can get in and out before he’s done with his meeting. I’d like to be long gone. Hopefully the president is feeling longwinded this morning.

RICK: You better be in your office when I’m done here.

I am not going to be anywhere near my office by the time he’s done. With any luck, my daughter and I will be halfway to Canada by then. Or Aruba.

RICK: If I have to hunt you down, I’m going to be pissed. But I WILL hunt you down.

Good luck with that. I drop my phone back into my purse and make my way to my office, which by another miracle is as far away from Rick’s as it could possibly be. It’ll take him a hot minute to get to me, and I’m going to be gone by the time his meeting is over. Rick can try to find me, but I’ve gone to great lengths before to stay away from him and to protect our daughter. I’d do it again.

I let myself into my office and lock the door behind me. My nerves are too frayed this morning to be bothered by anyone. I’m struggling to keep my mask in place today, and if anyone saw me, they would know that everything is wrong. And then they would tell Rick. In hindsight, the fact that everyone is all too happy to tattle on me to Rick should have been a major red flag.

I push out a frustrated sigh, sit down at my desk, and fire up my computer. Grace has a state dinner, a school visit, and a tour of a new battered women’s shelter she will need to be styled for. She’s so fun to dress, because not only is she gorgeous, but she has incredible taste and a flair for fashion, while being known as accessible and down to earth in her Louboutins. Well, she was until Jake made her give them up the more visibly pregnant she’s become.

I would love making these outfits on a regular day, but today, my heart just isn’t into it. I send links to the outfit pieces I want her to consider in an e-mail. Because she has such a great sense of style and what works for her body type, it doesn’t take her long to make a decision. I chose an emerald-green flowing chiffon gown for the state dinner. It has a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves of the sheer material and a black satin belt that will show off her growing bump to a T. For the school visit, a baby-blue maternity dress with cream-colored polka dots and nude leather ballet flats. And for the shelter tour, a black-and-white polka dot maternity blouse, black jeggings with black leather ballet flats, and a winter-white hip-length coat.

I think she’s going to love them all and they will be a go. The two more casual outfits are ready to wear and already in my online cart in her sizes, but it’s the gown that will be a little more difficult. Not really. It’s by a local designer who loves to dress Grace. All it takes is a quick text message, and he’ll have the dress in a garment bag and halfway here to pin it to her.

But when I pull my phone out of my bag, I see the notification for more text messages. I must not have heard it in my bag. I know Rick is irritated, but not this angry. In time, he will see this is the way it was always meant to be.

Only, when I open my text app to message Xavier about his green dress, I see the latest messages aren’t from Rick at all but from a blocked number. My heart races as I tap the wordUNKNOWN, where a number should be. I shouldn’t open it; I know I shouldn’t. Only bad things can come from this message.

UNKNOWN: You should have listened.