Epilogue
“This looks amazing, Tinker Bell,” Sam said to Shelby as she inspected her living room, which had been turned into an elegant event space thanks to Shelby’s wizardry. “I can’t believe you pulled this off while technically on maternity leave.”
“Oh, please. After planning massive weddings, this was easy. It felt good to stretch the old event-planning muscles again.”
The living room had been transformed with tables and chairs, fragrant floral centerpieces, sparkling crystal and gleaming silver.
Shelby had hired one of her favorite caterers and a three-piece band as well as bartenders and waitstaff to keep the food and booze coming.
They’d undergone the arduous process of having every person attending and working the party vetted by the Secret Service.
“What did you do with my furniture?” Sam asked.
“That falls under details you’re better off not knowing.”
“Fine by me.” Sam didn’t care about the details. As long as Freddie and Elin had the best night ever, that was all she cared about.
After weeks of torturing Freddie, she’d had a mild panic attack that morning about him not showing up, but Elin had assured her earlier by text that she’d threatened to withhold sex for a year if he didn’t go. Sam had laughed, imagining his reaction to that threat.
“What’s funny?” Shelby had baby Noah strapped to her chest as she supervised the final setup.
“Elin threatened to withhold sex for a year to get him here.”
Shelby laughed. “That’s awesome. Poor Freddie. He’s so outmatched by the women in his life.”
“I think my joke about the midget strippers sent him over the edge.”
“Do you think?” Shelby cringed. “I can’t believe such a thing exists.”
“In this world, you can get anything—for a price.”
“What’s my wife up to now?”
An arm snaked around her waist as her husband’s unmistakable scent filled her senses.
Sam leaned back against him, feeling light and unencumbered with the case closed after the DNA confirmed what they already knew about Curtis, and the public eating up Sam and Nick’s statement of forgiveness toward the president and first lady.
They’d dodged a huge bullet with that statement, which had effectively ended the congressional hearings, and Sam planned to party like it was 1999 tonight.
“Me? Up to something? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t. Is there anything I can do to help, ladies?”
“How would you feel about babysitting a very cute little man named Noah for a few minutes so I can see to a few last-minute things?” Shelby asked.
“I’d love to.”
She unbuckled the baby from the harness contraption and handed him off to “Uncle” Nick as she called him.
Sam went weak in the knees at the sight of him snuggling the baby. If ovaries could yearn, hers would’ve been exploding with the desire to see him holding a baby of their own. He looked so natural as he talked to Noah, making faces and bouncing him just right.
Noah loved everything about it.
Shelby took her arm. “Help me in the kitchen?”
Sam tore her gaze off Nick and the baby. “Sure.”
When they were alone in the kitchen, Shelby said, “I take it the test was negative?”
Sam nodded, her good mood disappearing.
“This time. Keep trying. I have a good feeling about you guys. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I’ve been thinking, recently, about maybe trying fertility treatment again.” It was the first time she’d said it out loud, and the sound of the words sent shock waves through her body, as if someone else had said it about her.
“I can refer you to my doctor. He was wonderful.”
“It was such a nightmare last time.” Sam shuddered thinking about it. “So many needles and procedures and pain, all for nothing.”
“It would be different this time because you’d have Nick with you every step of the way.”
“I know, but there’re still no guarantees.”
“No, there aren’t. But one thing I can guarantee—if you don’t at least try, you’ll always wonder what might’ve been.”
“Yeah, I know.” Desperate to change the subject, she said, “You look good. You’re glowing.” Shelby wore a pale pink silk dress that complemented her complexion.
“Lots of sex will do that for a girl.”
“Ahhh, so mama is back in the saddle again?”
“With a vengeance.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been hoping you guys would get back on track after everything that happened.”
“We’re working on it.”
“Whatever you’re doing appears to agree with you.”
“I’m doing him. As much and as often as I can.”
Sam laughed. “That usually works for me, too. With Nick, of course.”
“Of course.”
Sam squeezed her friend’s arm. “I’m thrilled to see you so happy. No one deserves it more than you do.”
“Thank you. Freddie deserves it, too.”
“Oh yes, he does. And we will make him happy tonight. Yes, we will.”
“This is gonna be epic.”
By seven-thirty the house was full to overflowing with their closest friends, many of whom were also Freddie’s closest friends.
The entire squad had come with their significant others, but Cameron Green had come solo.
Also in attendance were Lindsey McNamara and Terry O’Connor, Byron Tomlinson, Archie, Avery, Captain Malone and his wife, Will Tyrone and his girlfriend, Freddie’s parents, Skip and Celia, Tracy and Mike, Angela and Spencer and Elin’s friends, who seemed overwhelmed to be in the home of the vice president of the United States.
In the best surprise of the evening, Harry had called Nick and asked if he could bring a date to the party. Sam had been delighted to see him arrive with Lilia, who seemed mortified.
“I realize this is highly inappropriate,” she said to Sam, her face flushing with embarrassment. She wore a conservative black cocktail dress with her trademark pearls and managed to look buttoned-down and incredibly sexy at the same time.
“What is?” Sam asked her, genuinely perplexed.
“Me being here with… With him.”
“Harry?”
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Lilia, relax. Harry is one of my favorite people in the entire world. If you like him, please, by all means, spend as much time with him as you possibly can. Any woman would be lucky to be with him.”
“He is rather…”
“Awesome?”
“I was going to say persuasive.”
Sam laughed. “You dirty dog. Now I’m going to want all the details.”
“Mrs. Cappuano…”
“I swear to God, if you don’t call me Sam, I’m going to have no choice but to fire you.”
Lilia cleared her throat. “Sam…”
“Say it again. Come on. You can do it.”
“Sam.”
“Very good! You’ve got it. Now use it. What were you going to say?”
“I hope you’d be honest if you thought me dating your friend was in any way inappropriate.”
Sam leaned in so only Lilia would hear her say, “I hope it’s the very essence of inappropriate.” She winked to make her point, and Lilia lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
“What’re you saying to her?” Harry asked Sam when he joined them, handing each of them a glass of wine.
“She’s being very un-second-lady-like,” Lilia said.
“That’s my wife,” Nick said when he joined them.
“Stop embarrassing my date.” Harry put his arm around Lilia, who seemed to force herself to allow it. “Where’s my buddy Scotty tonight?”
“I hired my niece Brooke to entertain him and the other kids at my dad’s house. She has an entire evening planned for them.”
“From what I’ve heard of the plans for this evening,” Nick said, “he’s better off there than here.”
“I’m intrigued,” Harry said, grinning at Lilia, who looked dazzled.
Harry and his damned dimples had that effect on women.
Sam loved the two of them together and couldn’t wait to grill Harry on the details Lilia would never provide.
The guests of honor were the last to arrive, but true to her word, Elin had Freddie there at the stroke of eight o’clock.
When the Secret Service admitted them, everyone applauded.
Sam wrapped pink feather boas—which were all Shelby’s idea—around their necks and kissed them both. Per her instructions, they’d dressed up and looked marvelous.
“You clean up nicely, young Freddie,” Sam said, hooking her arm through his.
“Will I still be speaking to you tomorrow?”
“Of course you will. Who would run your life for you if you weren’t speaking to me?”
“Is that a multiple-choice question?”
Sam laughed. God, she loved sparring with him, the brother she’d never had.
“You went to a lot of trouble,” he said. “This looks incredible.”
“It was all Shelby. She’s a magician.”
“What did they do with the furniture?”
“I was told not to ask.”
He laughed, and Sam released him so he could hug his mother.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Juliette Cruz asked her son. “Sam went all out.”
“I’m hoping she didn’t go too far out,” Freddie said with a pointed look for her.
“I’m the second lady of the United States. I know all about decorum.”
Freddie rolled his eyes. “You’re the very picture of decorum when you’re dropping F-bombs and kicking ass.”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Sam said to his mother.
“Yes, you do,” Freddie said. “Decorum is not exactly your middle name. Exhibit A would be the ongoing disaster on your face.”
Sam stuck her chin out. “And here I thought it was all better.”
Freddie snorted. “It’s perfect if you’re the Grinch or the Incredible Hulk, but green isn’t exactly your color.”
“Children, don’t fight,” Juliette said. “We’re here to celebrate.”
“Absolutely.” Sam pressed a beer into her partner’s hand, hoping he’d lose the stick up his ass and enjoy the evening. “Let’s get this party started.”
They dined on a delicious meal of tenderloin and baked stuffed shrimp, drank copious amounts of champagne and toasted the happy couple.
When everyone else had made heartfelt toasts, Sam stood to make hers. “As Freddie’s best-man woman—”
“Biggest mistake I ever made,” the tipsy groom said.
“Shut your mouth. Your superior officer is speaking.”
Everyone else cracked up laughing while Freddie glared at her.
“As I was saying, when Freddie asked me to be his best-man woman I quickly made it my mission in life to make him regret it.”