Page 64 of Caught By the Chief of Staff
Chapter 19
What a bitch
Three days later…
I’m freaking the fuck out.
Tonight is the State Dinner, and to say I’m nervous is a colossal understatement. And I’m in the residence of the White House getting ready with the First Lady and the Press Secretary like a couple sixteen-year-olds getting ready for the prom. I’m not sure how this is my life. It’s kind of like I woke up one day and I was in theTwilight Zone.
“Can you pass me that red lip gloss?” Jules asks.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, picking up the square-shaped tube and passing it over.
“Really, Jules?” Grace questions her choice with a heavy amount of judgement packed behind it that only a best friend could. “Fuck-me-red for a State Dinner?”
“Too much?” she asks me.
“Uhh… probably.”
“Fuck.” She sighs. “I’m trying too hard.”
“Anyone in particular you’re trying to impress?” Grace prompts just a little too casually to actually be casual conversation.
“Fuck you, no.”
This weird moment that is so natural with these two powerful women is exactly what I needed. Grace and Jules have been my friends for a while now, but this year, they brought me into the fold. I’m one of them, and it’s crazy. I’m the stylist, but now, somewhere along the way, they made me family, and it is exactly what I needed. They bring me a level of balance that my life is seriously lacking. And with Rachel missing, I need them to keep me grounded while we play pretend to smoke out the bad guys.
I’m seriously living in a James Bond movie.
“How about a smoky eye with that dress instead?” I suggest, passing her a palette of golds and dark browns that will look amazing with her dark eyes and chestnut hair.
“I love that! Thank you.”
“Of course.” I smile at her. She’s a dab hand with makeup; that’s for sure. A little style direction goes a long way with these two, and they make my life so easy.
Grace does her makeup in soft browns and pinks. She’s really enjoying the innocent pregnant mother look while Jules rocks the vixen vibe. She’s let her hair down in soft waves and is going to wear the emerald-green dress I found for her with some actual emerald jewelry. She’s even snuck a pair of ridiculously tall heels from her old wardrobe.
“Jake is going to paddle your ass when he sees those heels.” Jules laughs, and she’s not wrong.
“I see nothing,” I add. “I’m not a party to this, and I am not getting fired over her shoe tantrum.”
“You’re fine,” Grace says with a delicate laugh. “I can handle him.”
“Here’s hoping.”
“Can you do me up?” Jules asks.
“Of course.” Grace helps her zip up her dress.
She’s wearing a red lace dress with a mock neck, but what should be modest is… not. The entire thing is fitted through her hips and then flows to the ground. She has nude heels underneath it, and her hair twisted into elegant curls and then rolled up and pinned at the back of her neck. She looks gorgeous.
My own dress is much simpler. It has a fitted long-sleeved bodice with a neckline that just barely shows my collarbones. The back, however, dips almost to my waist. A soft organza skirt flows around my legs, making me feel like a ballerina. I twisted my long dark hair up into an intricate bun and did my makeup in dark browns and soft pinks. I love fashion and makeup, but I’m meant to be behind the scenes, not star in the show, so the more subdued style appeals to me, even though I feel like I could crap my pants or pass out at any moment. Oh, God. What if I throw up on a Japanese dignitary?
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Grace asks me when she notices I’ve gone silent.
“That I will throw up on a Japanese dignitary and humiliate myself in front of everyone ever,” I admit like word vomit; they just come up and out against my own volition.
Jules laughs. “The Japanese won’t even be here tonight, so you’re safe.”