Page 68 of Caught By the Chief of Staff
“She’s sending up a what?” I ask, looking to where she seems to be focused.
“See how she’s sliding the pendant on her necklace back and forth while glancing over here every so often?” she asks me.
“Yes, I do,” I answer. “What is she doing? She looks a little ridiculous.”
“She does, doesn’t she?” Jules replies. “She’s sending up a Romeo. It’s an old sorority secret. When you need an out, you slide your necklace like that, and a sister or two will come rescue you. Simple as that. So, you see, it’s our duty to go find out what our dear First Lady needs.”
“Seeing as how she’s very pregnant and dancing a bit, I’m guessing it’s the powder room,” I suggest.
“It looks like you would be correct.”
“We should probably hurry.”
“Hello!” Jules says brightly, interrupting whatever the man she was speaking to was saying. “Will you excuse us for a moment? I need to steal the First Lady for some important business.”
She doesn’t give the man a chance to reply; she just steers Grace away and through the door and down the hall. It’s actually one of the more impressive maneuvers I’ve seen her execute in the entire time I’ve known her.
We bypass a ladies’ room and travel farther down the hall. Grace’s main agent follows us at a discreet distance. We take a turn down another hallway and find a more private restroom. A quick look shows it’s empty.
“Thank God,” Grace exclaims rather dramatically, although I remember what it was like to have a baby sitting on your bladder like that, so I get it. “Jake’s giant baby is Irish folk dancing on my now very teeny tiny bladder. I thought I was going to die.”
“Well, we’re all glad you didn’t,” Jules says.
I smirk at her in the gold-framed mirror. It takes a brave woman to throw shit at the First Lady of the United States. Granted, they’ve been friends since they were freshman in college, so they’ve probably seen each other through a world of shit. The thought makes my heart pang. While they had each other, I had no one. But now I have them. Thank God for that.
Grace comes out of the stall and washes her hands. As she’s reapplying her lipstick, two women walk in the restroom, laughing and clearly enjoying themselves.
“Did you see the way Jake was looking at you?” the blonde asks. “He clearly can’t wait to get his hands on you, and who could blame him? His wife is the size of a barn.”
“And I can’t wait for him to get his hands on me.” The redhead laughs. “He’s so good with his hands.”
They come around the corner and see us standing there. I barely keep from rolling my eyes. Actually, I don’t think I was very successful at it, because the redhead narrows her beady little eyes at me. This was a mean-girl ambush if ever I saw one, and I should know; I have an eight-year-old daughter, and even she’s a better orchestrator than these idiots.
“Oh!” The redhead gasps in mock horror. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“You don’t say,” Grace drawls.
“I never wanted you to find out about us this way,” she carries on, and it’s the most ridiculous show of theatrics I have ever seen.
“Sure, sure,” Grace says.
“It’s just that you know Jake and I have known each other for so long, and our families go way back. One thing just kind of led to another,” she says. “You know how it is.”
I kind of wonder if Grace is going to rip her hair out for insinuating that Jake is having an affair with this piece of trash. Hell, I kind of want to rip her hair out, but I’m a guest of an important person at the White House, so that’s probably frowned upon. I’m just about to open my mouth to suggest we find somewhere else to go, when Jules laughs. She doesn’t just laugh; she snickers that little laugh of someone clearly trying to hold it in and then inch by inch, giggle by giggle, she’s bent over in full-blown belly laughs.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” the redhead snaps.
“You are,” Jules says, wiping a tear from her eye. “Like anyone would believe that load of horse shit that just spewed from your mouth. Everyone can see Jake is madly in love with his wife. You’re just mad it’s not you after the military campaign you waged last year for his ring. Right, Cara?”
“Right,” I laugh awkwardly, but I think I cover it well in the name of the sisterhood and all that. “Jake is full gone for Grace. Anyone can see that. The thought of him cheating is laughable at best. Good one.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to laugh if I were you,” she says, turning on me. “Amy was talking to Rick earlier, and he was very interested. If you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I do, and I’m not worried.” I am. It’s a lie. I wonder all the time what he’s doing with me. Especially after all I have put him through. But when I think about his never taking another woman to his bed, I know that maybe we have a chance, if everything works out like it’s supposed to. Besides, this chick is just a bitch. What do I care what she thinks? I have enough of my own garbage going around in my head.
“We should probably get going, ladies,” Grace says to Jules and me. “Nice seeing you again, Ashley.”
“Don’t think you’ll keep him!” she whisper-hisses as we leave. “He will come back to me. He always comes back to me.” And then the door closes, cutting off her venomous tirade.