Page 240 of Innocent

“What aboutmydinner?”

I laugh. “Detail will make sure it’s boxed up and sent with you.”

“All right. Because you know I love their veal.” He gives me a weary smile.

I walk around his desk to brush a kiss across his lips. “I will even bring dessert home for you.”

“Oooh.” He grins up at me. “Nowthatsounds like fun.”

With all the components in place, I can finish my afternoon’s work. When we arrive at the restaurant, the congresswoman and Stella are already seated at the table I requested, which is in a far corner without close neighbors. As per my instructions, the women are seated on one side, myself and Elliot on the other, and pre-positioned Secret Service agents have been standing watch since the women’s arrival to keep them where I want them seated.

At least the two of them have the decency to remember protocols and stand as we approach. Elliot forces himself to hug Stella and shakes with Grace. When it’s obvious I’m dining with them, Stella frowns.

“I didn’t knowyouwere joining us.”

Elliot pauses mid-sit. “You start with me now, I’ll leave. Iaskedhim to join us. He’s my best friend. Suck it up and deal,sis.”

Grace Martin is good, I’ll give her that. She smiles and touches Stella’s arm. “It’s fine, hon. Chill.” I’m seated across from Stella. She shoots daggers at me with her eyes, but also pastes on a smile.

We sit, and the waiter immediately steps in to take our beverage orders. With Elliot’s burner held below the table, I send a quick text to Leo. Seconds later, I receive a confirmation from him that he received it, and I can tuck the burner away. I won’t need it now.

I gave the restaurant Elliot’s order when I made the reservation, because Secret Service has to be on-site to personally supervise. I also gave the restaurant a firm timetable of when each course was to be served to us, that Elliot’s main dish was to be packed to go, and that the server was not to mention that fact in front of our two dining companions.

Again, when you’re VPOTUS, you can politely ask for little things like that and they’ll happily accommodate you.

Throughout the entrée and salad courses, I remain mostly silent, only speaking to divert the conversational topic when it looks like Grace wants to pitch something to Elliot. We’re almost finished with our salads when Stella speaks up.

“Don’t you have papers or something to file, Jordan?”

“Stella,” Elliot warns. “Zipit.”

“What’s wrong with me wanting time alone with my brother?”

He points at Grace Martin. “Then why’d you bringher?”

“I—” Her mouth snaps shut. Yeah, she’s definitely not as smart as she thinks she is. “She’s my best friend,that’swhy!”

Elliot smiles and holds out a hand, indicating me. I smile and waggle my fingers at her in a wave that makes Elliot chuckle.

Fuming, Stella stabs a piece of tomato with her fork.

That’s it, bitch. Stuff your pie hole.

Under the table, where Elliot’s official phone is tucked between my thighs, I feel it start to vibrate.

I reach down with one hand while I reach for my water glass with the other. “Actually, I believe Grace has something she wishes to discuss with you, Mister Vice President. I thought it best she asks you directly.” I sip my water and watch Grace Martin’s reaction.

The congresswoman’s cold blue eyes immediately brighten and she focuses on Elliot. “Yes! I do. Elliot, I have a few key people I’d like you to sit down and talk with ahead of the convention. They areveryinterested in financing a couple of PACs that are supporting you, and…”

Meanwhile, I find the ringer switch on the side of the phone and flip it from silent to ring. It immediately bleats its distinctive tone, and I pretend I’m retrieving it from my blazer’s inner pocket so I can answer it.

“Vice President Woodley’s phone. Jordan Walsh speaking.”

“Good evening, Jordan,” President Samuels says. “Is Elliot handy? I need to speak with him. It’s rather urgent.” I can hear her smile. Whatever excuse Leo gave her has amused her. Then again, I know she’s not a fan of Grace Martin, either. Maybe this is purely a fun exercise for her.

“Good evening, Madam President. Yes, ma’am. He’s right here.” I turn. “Excuse me, Mister Vice President. It’s President Samuels. She says it’s urgent.”

He takes the phone from me, his gaze barely pausing on mine as I spot the laughter he’s desperately trying to contain. “Yes, Madam President?”