Taylor
“I’m all right. According to all the folks in suits, I’m doing pretty good.” He looked up with a grin. “I might win Cali.” Niyah chuckled. “Get the fuck outta here!” She grabbed a pair of footies and a jar of Vaseline. “You ain’t flipping liberal-ass California.”
Victor raised a brow. “It’s looking like I might.”
Victor chuckled. “What do you think pushed over with the California democrats? My Harley-riding wife or the sex tape?”
Victor paused the game and looked up at her. “We might win.”
The sadness in his eyes nearly broke Taylor’s heart. She’d always suspected Victor was working so hard to fulfill a dream that was never his, but his father’s. She smiled and ran her fingers through his dark strands. “Of course, you’re gonna. It’s what you do.”
Victor grinned. “I do have a terrible habit of succeeding,” he joked. “By the way, Samatha left that for you.” Hanging on the bathroom door was a blue pencil dress with a puritan collar. Taylor rolled her eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “That chick ain’t going to the White House with us.”
Victor laughed. “Nah, I didn’t think that she would be.”
Taylor found her cellular phone by the pillow and touched the screen to call her assistant. “Yes, Mrs. Creed?”
“Kim, hi. I need you to do a few things for me.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“First, I need you to fire Samantha. Second, I need you to go to the Storm Tower apartment and grab me something to wear on the big stage.”
Kimberly giggled. “Ma’ am, I can’t fire your stylist. I’m just an intern.”
“Oh, that brings me to my third request. You’ve been doing a great job. So, now, you’ll be my chief of staff.”
Taylor heard the sigh on the other end of the call.
“Ma'am--”
“It’s Taylor, Kim. Call me Taylor.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I can’t call you Taylor. And… I can't be your chief of staff. I’m just an intern.”
“Kim, did you get into this business to get shit done or talk about the shit that you can’t do?”
“To get shit done,” Kimberly quietly confirmed. “I wanna get shit done,” she repeated with a bit more confidence.
Taylor smiled. “Well, all right, Miss Graham. Let’s get to work.”