Page 3 of The Playboy’s Playbook
Chapter Two
LAILA
I fucking hate mornings.
I literally chose the worst possible profession to go into because it requires me to have my ass up bright and early at five in the morning.
I’m not a morning person and I’m most certainly not the overly cheery type when I haven’t had my Frappuccino.
I’m the complete opposite to the go-getter of my college days.
I didn’t party long and hard like my classmates because the classes at Georgetown are no joke.
I preferred to spend my nights in the library or walking the treadmill at the gym listening to lecture notes and studying my flashcards.
Back then, I saw mornings as the start of a new adventure – a fresh experience.
Grown woman and college-degree wielding Laila says fuck that. I’m happiest rotting in bed with my puppy, Nola, by my side.
I lay around in bed, my alarm a nuisance as I try to fall back asleep, but in the end, the alarm wins. I grumble and drag my feet to my bathroom, turning on my shower and letting the hot steam flow throughout the room.
I step in and immediately relax, the water running down my spine, soothing all of the ills I feel with waking up so early. Normally, I’m rushing out the door but today requires me to take extra time and care with my morning routine.
I decide that it’s best to wear a navy power suit that hugs my curves in all the right places and put on my most comfortable heels but pack an extra pair of flats.
This version of Laila is strong, confident, and isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with anyone who stands in her way.
I’m proud of this version of me because I never thought I would be here.
I got lucky being hired straight out of college to work for one of the most respected Alabama senators of my generation.
It has been the pleasure of my young adult life to be the executive assistant to Senator Eleanor Mitchell.
She’s what many describe as Alabama’s great hope on Capitol Hill.
I’ve been living in Washington, D.C. for seven years now and I’ve experienced several politicians and none of them hold a candle to Senator Mitchell.
She’s strong-willed, forthright, and compassionate – all of the qualities that I want to emulate if I plan to be in her shoes one day.
As her executive assistant, I’m in charge of keeping her updated about what’s going on with my generation and how we feel about the current state of politics.
She actually gives a damn about what the younger voices have to say and it’s my job to make sure those voices are heard.
Today, she’s introducing her latest bill on the Senate floor to close out this year’s legislative session. What makes this day extra special is that I helped her create the bill.
When Senator Mitchell first approached me asking what I would want to see proposed on the Senate floor this session, I told her that there needs to be more done for the kids in the public school system. Being a product of Alabama’s public school system, I know there’s so much more that can be done.
I’ve spent the better part of this session researching education disparities in Alabama to help create the Education Equity and Access Act. My hometown, Oakridge, has a great school system. Not all cities and towns in the state are as lucky.
When I gave Senator Mitchell my final notes and research, she was impressed with the amount of detail I included. She also slid in a proposal for a pay raise for teachers, which tugged on my heart strings because my mom worked as a teacher for nineteen years before becoming a principal.
This bill could literally change how children learn and interact in school and to know that I had a hand in its inception is a big deal, so I need to dress like a big deal.
Besides waking up at the unholiest of hours, I love what I do because creating policies that could enact positive change is what I live for.
It’s what I was made for.
“Nola, kennel,” I say to my miniature Yorkie as I get her food and water bowls ready. Nola comes barreling out of my room and slides into her kennel, ready to eat and sleep the day away. I pet her behind her ear as she dips her head into her kibble.
“Be a good girl. I’ll see you at lunch,” I say as I close the door to the kennel and get my keys before going to my garage to get in my car.
Today is a drive-thru breakfast day, so I make sure that I leave at the perfect time to beat traffic and be the first in line at the coffee shop. Once I secure my Frappuccino, I make the thirty-minute drive to the Capitol.
I’m surprised that traffic is light this morning – normally people are on the road as early as four in the morning to get ahead of the crowd.
With it being Thursday, most people are probably taking the day off to get ready for a long weekend or just chose not to go to work today.
Whatever the reason, I’m thankful for the easy drive this morning.
D.C. traffic is the bane of my existence and has been since I arrived, but I refuse to take the subway.
The last time I got on the D.C. Metro, we were delayed for two hours because someone decided to party hard and empty their stomach all over the cabin.
We had to sit and wait for the nearest janitorial staff to get the train cleaned and for the medical team to escort the guy off the train.
When I told Senator Mitchell, I thought she was going to yell and think I was lying. She did the opposite – she laughed and suggested that I drive to work and gave me route options that are less congested in the morning.
I turn my car down the street that leads to the parking deck, waving to my co-workers as they gather their things to head into the office. Once I’m inside, I greet the security guards like I always do on the way to the elevator. From the elevator, it’s a short walk to my office.
I enjoy the quietness of the building before the hustle and bustle begins. It’s the last day of the legislative session, so it’ll be more hectic than normal with staffers and interns cleaning their offices and bills being carried back and forth.
I flip the lights on and set my bag down in my office chair, removing my jacket, before walking to the window and looking at the downtown scene below me.
I look at everyone walking into work, bags in hand and coffee mugs being drained. I’m pulled from my thoughts when my office phone rings. I take a small sip from my drink before sitting down in the chair, not bothering to move my bag, and answer.
“Senator Mitchell’s office, this is Laila,” I say, my customer service voice coming into effect.
“Hi, Laila. I’m looking to see if the Senator would be available for an interview with the local newspaper. I’d like to get her thoughts on this year’s legislative session. This is Emily Johnson, senior reporter at the D.C. Star,” Emily answers.
“Let me transfer you to the head of communications. One moment.” I dial the number and transfer the call before finally moving my purse to the shelf behind me so I can relax in my chair. I turn and log onto my computer, responding to a couple of emails when the door across the hall opens.
“Laila, can you step inside for a moment? I want to review some stuff before we go to the floor,” Senator Mitchell’s southern drawl calls from across the hallway.
“Yes ma’am,” I respond as I grab my notebook and place my glasses on my face before walking to her office.
“Oh, you look like a doll, but you look like a doll every day! Sit down, I want to make sure this sounds right,” Senator Mitchell says as I enter the bright office. She’s in her late forties with curly brown hair and the sweetest smile that reaches her hazel eyes.
“Okay, so I had the speech writer help me make final adjustments to present the bill. You tell me if it sounds right. I want to make sure that I do it justice,” Senator Mitchell says, her hazel eyes full of sincerity.
“Yes ma’am. Read to me what you have.” I sit up straighter and close my notebook, giving my boss my undivided attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate, today I stand before you to introduce the Education Equity and Access Act. As representatives of the people, it is our duty to ensure that every child, regardless of their background or zip code, has access to quality education.
“In our nation, no child should be left behind due to inadequate resources or opportunities. This act proposes a comprehensive approach, investing in teacher training and giving our schools the resources needed to ensure that all students succeed in their academics.” She pauses and looks at me for validation. I nod and smile for her to keep going.
“While this bill was inspired by issues found in my state of Alabama – which is currently ranked forty-fifth in education – it will serve children in all fifty states. The Education Equity and Access Act is not just a bill; it is a promise to our children and future generations that we will make sure every student, regardless of their background and upbringing, has the opportunity to reach their full potential. As we head into our recess, I urge you to think about how you grew up and attended school. Think about how your children have grown up and attended school. Think about the current environment that school children are in,” Senator Mitchell concludes.
“You’re going to blow them out of the water.” I smile, feeling it reach my eyes. Senator Mitchell releases a sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping in a relaxing way.
“Thank you, Laila. I appreciate your input. Let’s make sure it gets the attention it deserves and close this session on a high note,” she says, smiling genuinely at me. We both gather our things and make our way to the Senate floor, smiling the entire time.
“Senator, your speech was phenomenal!”
“Eleanor, what an amazing bill!”
“If this doesn’t pass in the Senate, they’re all fools.”
Several members of the Senate from all represented political parties surrounded Senator Mitchell and I as we left the floor to return to her office. Everything people were saying is true – the speech was everything and more. I swear a tear fell from the oldest, most conservative Senator’s eyes.
Once she concluded, the floor erupted into thunderous applause. It was the coolest moment I’ve experienced since working in her office and it made waking up at five in the morning worth it. She thanks as many people as she can before we enter the elevator.
“Thank you, Laila. This bill wouldn’t have been introduced if it weren’t for you,” she says softly, her motherly vibes wrapping around me.
I smile up at my boss and fight back tears. “I may have given you the idea, but the delivery was all you, Senator.”
She waves me off. “You’ve been here for two years and still refuse to call me Eleanor.” We chuckle and exit the elevator when we reach our office floor.
“It’s a habit,” I say, a smile still on my lips.
“What do you plan on doing during the break?” Senator Mitchell asks as we settle into her office.
I shrug my shoulders. “I was just going to hang around here.”
“When was the last time you went home? I’m sure your mom would love to see you. How is she by the way?” the Senator asks.
I smile at the mention of my mom. When I first got hired, she booked a flight to D.C. to schedule a one-on-one meeting with Senator Mitchell.
In the motherliest way possible, she explained to my new boss that I would be an asset to the office, but I shouldn’t be taken for granted while I’m here. Senator Mitchell promised my mom that she would look after me and she’s done that since day one.
“Uh, since I graduated high school.”
“Oh my, Laila! You haven’t been home in seven years?
! I’m not your mom and I don’t want to tell you what to do, but honey, if you don’t book a flight home and spend time in that cute little town a’ yours.
Matter of fact, I’ll book the flight because I know you won’t do it.
I’ll text you the details. As far as today goes, you get out of here and go home to start packing.
” Senator Mitchell shoos me out of her office, not bothering to wait for my rebuttal.
I enter my office and gather my things before making my way to the elevator and going home. As much as I love my job, I want nothing more than to return to the happiness my bed has to offer.
“Hey Apple Pie! I have a favor to ask you!” My mom says when I answer her phone call. I was obsessed with apple pies as a kid and after she called me Apple Pie the first time, it stuck.
“If it involves searching through the pipes to get your earring, it’s a hard no.” I would’ve rather jumped in the ocean to search for the earring than spend two hours under the sink in the middle of the summer. That happened when I was in high school and I still remember how miserable that was.
“No, nothing like that. I have to travel out of state for a few months and since you’re done with the legislative session, I wanted to see if you could come home and house-sit for the summer. I don’t want to impose on you or your plans, so if you say no, I won’t be mad or upset.”
“Did Senator Mitchell call you?” I ask, curiosity in my voice.
“No. Was she supposed to?” my mom questions, confusion in her tone.
“Nope. When do you need me there?”
She sighs happily. “Thank you, honey! I’m leaving at the end of the week, but you come on down when you are ready and able! I know you have to get Nola squared away along with yourself.”
Just as I’m about to respond, my phone vibrates with a new text message. I open it and see that a flight has been booked for me and Nola that heads out at six in the morning. I smile and send Senator Mitchell a quick thank you text before going back to the conversation with my mom.
“I’ll be there tomorrow night. I’m about to start packing my stuff and Nola’s.”
“Oh wow! I’m glad this worked out! Text me your flight plans and I’ll be there to get you!”
“Nola!” I shout for my puppy, smiling at the sound of her tiny feet skating against the floor. When she appears at my feet, I toss a treat down to her.
“How do you feel about taking a vacation in Oakridge?”
She ignores me and continues to nibble on her treat.
“Great. I’ll get your stuff packed.”