Chapter 20
Surprises
Our plane lands in Maryland and it’s weird to be back.
I feel so different. Like the last time I was here was like another lifetime ago as I watch the airport go by out the window as the plane turns around slowly to pull up to the stairs.
There are press lines lined up with their cameras and a row of black town cars and SUVs for the dignitaries escorting us to the White House.
Rhys takes my hand as the cabin door is opened and we step out onto the top of the rolling metal stairs.
We smile and wave, Rhys in his beautiful blue suit with a white shirt and pale blue tie, me in a coordinating blue dress and heels.
I pray that I do not trip on these heels and fall down the stairs, breaking my neck in the process.
It would be a shame if I managed to circumvent multiple murder plots only to die in a freak accident.
Wouldn’t that just shock the hell out of the Serpents?
Vice President Anderson Carter and his wife, Kayla, are waiting with a small contingent from their government to greet us. Rhys shakes everyone’s hand and kisses Mrs. Carter on both cheeks before shaking the vice president’s hand.
“It’s good to see you again,” Anderson greets us, shaking my hand and kissing my cheek.
“It’s good to see you as well.” Rhys smiles. He may be good friends with the president, but he’s comfortable with the Carters as well. They’re safe, from what I’ve been told and what I can tell.
We climb into the back of the town car with the Carters and settle in, they’re sitting backwards, facing us. Kayla and I make small talk on the ride. They have a ton of children, and she seems to love every minute of it based on the smile on her face and the small bump in her belly.
“We had some surprises and early arrivals with your entourage this morning,” Anderson says casually.
By the way Rhys’s body stills, this was not part of our plan and is something else altogether.
“Ahh,” he says coolly. “My apologies, mate. Who were the early arrivals?”
“Your wife’s uncle and your step-grandfather,” he answers as if it’s no big deal that two malicious, murdering bastards have crashed our state visit.
“Ahh,” Rhys says. “I see. And were they put up in the guest wing?”
“Of course,” Anderson answers. “Jake and Rick thought it best to keep your traveling party close. Although we didn’t notice them with you in Canada, we did hear they were with you in Mexico…”
My heart beats faster at the implication that they were hidden somewhere near us in Mexico. All of the places we visited, the jungles, the pyramids… and then my mind goes to the man in Canada who had told me to watch my step. He’d said as much at the state dinner there.
Now, I can’t help but see how precarious the situation was. And with them here and not hidden, I have to wonder if this is where everything is going to come to a head?
Our ride to D.C. is over far too quickly.
Instead of watching for the monuments as they passed by, I spent the time wondering if I am about to die.
Or if my husband is and how I can prevent it?
We pass through the gates of one of the most famous buildings in the world and park at one of the entrances where President Jake Chancellor and his wife, Grace, are waiting for us with smiles on their faces.
We climb out of the car, Kayla and Anderson behind us, and we are greeted by the President and First Lady.
I’ve come to know a little about the couple since, as friends of Rhys, they were at both our wedding and our coronation.
I hug Grace and Jake. Rhys does the same, and then we smile for more pictures since this is a state visit, finally turning and heading into the White House.
We’re led down a long hallway and through a corridor before we’re moved into the residential wing of the White House.
The further we walk through this part of the residence, the clearer it becomes with the children’s drawings and bookbags, that this is their personal home while in the district.
We eventually stop in front of a door. Jake opens it and leads us through into a suite much like the one we live in at home.
“We thought it best, given the… complications,” he says, giving me a pointed look, “That you all stay in the private residence with us.”
I grab Rhys’s forearm and say, “I don’t want to put you and your children at risk.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Grace says, reaching out and giving my hand a squeeze. “But we’re safe here.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“I’m the President of the United States,” Jake says proudly. “It would take a lot to get to me and believe me, they’ve tried.”
I just quietly nod my head, even though I’m not sure that I’m as convinced as everyone else.
“We’ll let you two settle in.” Grace turns, addressing me. “We ladies will need time to prep for tonight. We like to get ready together. If you’d like to join Kayla, Cara, Jules, and me, we’d love to have you.”
I’ve never had the experience of getting ready for something like this with anyone other than Dahlia and Maeve, who has been missing for weeks now.
I look to Rhys and he just nods at me with a soft smile as if he can read my mind.
I turn back to the ladies and hesitantly say, “I think I’d like that. ”
“Nice,” Kayla says.
“Yay!” Grace cheers. “We have champagne and charcuterie while we dress. It’s tradition.”
“Get some rest and bring your dress when you come,” Kayla adds. “Then we can match the look.”
“Okay.”
With that all settled, we get another round of hugs and then Rhys and I are left to catnap before we need to get ready for tonight’s state dinner. Suddenly, I’m absolutely exhausted. I barely kick my shoes off before I fall onto the bed into a deep, deep sleep.
· · ·
I carry the garment bag with my black velvet gown down the hall in my sweats. I’m nervous to hang out with such a large group of famous and sophisticated women. What if I look silly in my sweats? What if they hate my dress or make fun of me?
When I woke up from my nap, I scrubbed my face and did all my pre-glam things, excited to be invited to hang out with these women.
But then my doubts set in. Rhys just kissed my brow, told me that everything would be fine, and then sent me on my way so he could grab a shower and put on his tux.
Though, he was watching a tennis match when I left.
It’s ridiculously unfair how little work men have to do to look handsome when we slave for hours.
I knock on the door and hold my breath as it’s pulled open. They’re all here, beautiful as ever, with bare faces, and in similar outfits as me. Thank goodness.
“Stella!” Grace says, ushering me in. “You made it.”
“Yes. Thank you for having me.”
“Of course,” she says, taking my bag from me. “Let’s hang this with the others and introduce you to everyone.”
She hangs my bag on a gold rolling rack with everyone else’s before she leads me around the room.
It’s nothing short of chaos with curling irons and hair spray and makeup and brushes tossed absolutely everywhere.
In the middle of it all is one of the most beautiful charcuterie spreads I have ever seen and I live in a castle.
Next to it are several bottles of premium champagne and a pepperoni pizza.
Last time I had one like that while studying for exams, they cost roughly five dollars and were hot and ready.
Kayla sees me eyeing the pizza with a confused look on my face and laughs. “I know it doesn’t fit, but I eat one a day with this baby,” she says, rubbing her tiny belly. “Besides, they go great with the olives and pickles the White House chef makes herself.”
“Oh God, that’s disgusting.” One of the ladies laughs. “Thank God, I never ate gross shit when I was pregnant. How about you, Grace?”
“I like a good pickle when pregnant,” she shrugs. “Unoriginal I know, but it’s so good. Now come sit down. Can I get you a glass of champagne? A plate? We’re very casual here so just dive in. Tonight, will be full of ceremony and stuffed shirts so enjoy.”
“She means pompous asses,” a woman I’ve not met adds. “Hey, I’m Jules.”
“Shit. I forgot introductions,” Grace curses.
“Well now you know Kayla and Jules, Cara is the one over there. Her husband is the Chief of Staff. Jules is the Press Secretary, but she’s also married to Ryan, Jake’s Aide-de-Camp, so they’re at all these things too.
Honestly, it’s good to have a friendly face in the crowd since so many of them are not so friendly. ”
“How about you?” Cara asks. “Do you have a group at home?”
“Kind of,” I answer. “Really everyone is terrifying except for Dahlia. She’s a love. That’s my sister-in-law. Otherwise, everyone is kind of trying to kill me or chase me away.”
“Wow,” is the general reply from the group of women, stunned expressions stamped on their face. Except for Grace. She knows it all and I get the feeling that’s always been the case, even before she married her husband. Grace seems like a powerful ally.
“Well, now you have us and we’ve weathered some heavy shit,” she says.
“Thanks.”
“Now, dig in and let’s make ourselves look unforgettable,” Jules says, piling cheese on a plate.
Cara plays with my hair while I sip on some champagne. “I love your hair,” she says. “Do you want it up or down?”
“I like it down. Up feels so fancy and with my impending doom hanging over my head, I think it would be overstimulating to have it up,” I answer.
To her credit, she just slowly blinks at me and picks up a curling iron.
After a while, everyone’s hair is done and we’re finishing our snacks before tackling our makeup. I was nervous at first, but these ladies are easy to be around, and they all help each other get ready.
I pick up a cracker with a piece of salami on it from my plate and suddenly, I start to sweat at my hairline and feel like I’m going to be sick. The smell is awful.
“Oh no,” Kayla says, grabbing my plate as Cara whips me up and pushes me into a bathroom. “I know that face.”