Jameson
London was my last chance to make something right. The abandoned trip that spanned three continents was ambitious; more than I could handle. So I broke off a piece of that trip—human rights violations that needed to be addressed—and dealt with it. The leaders of the countries involved were reluctant at first. Who wants to admit to sanctioning scores of atrocities? No one. But by offering them neutral ground, they agreed.
This wasn’t an official State visit, so we weren’t staying in Buckingham Palace or even Kensington Palace as previous presidents had. In fact, the Queen and the Prime Minister would not even be involved in these negotiations. So, we camped out in The Royal Suite at The Goring, which was perfectly fine with Georgie.
“I cannot believe that we’re here, Jameson,” Georgie gasped with delight. She was amazed by the grandeur of the suite, which was impressive. The neutral palette of the suite felt anything but bland. In fact, I almost felt like we were back in the private residence.
“Do you have an idea what you want to do while I’m in negotiations?” I asked her absentmindedly while I checked my email. I was planning something big for her, and some of the final preparations had finally been confirmed.
“Museums. Lots and lots of museums.”
I groaned. For once, I was grateful to be busy. “I’m sorry I have to miss that,” I said blandly.
“No, you’re not. You don’t even like the Smithsonian,” Georgie quipped. That wasn’t entirely true. I liked some of the Smithsonian museums.
Georgie rattled on about shopping as well, but I tuned her out just to stop and admire her. We had both changed significantly during our time in the White House. My hair was considerably grayer, and Georgie seemed to develop a subtle sophistication. Today, she wore a pair of dark jeans that stopped at her ankle and a white button-down shirt under a navy blue cashmere blazer. The emerald on her finger glittered in the sunlight streaming through the suite’s windows, and her thin gold wedding band winked out from beneath her engagement ring.
We still hadn’t told the public we were married.
“Well, whatever you have planned, I need you to leave Wednesday night free.”
“What’s happening on Wednesday?”
“I have tickets for a show on the West End.”
Now Georgie groaned. “Theater, Jameson? Really? Didn’t you learn anything from Abraham Lincoln?”
“That’s a terrible joke, Georgie.” She suddenly looked very guilty, which prompted me to grin. “Don’t worry, little darling. I’m sure you can make it up to Honest Abe somehow.”
I left her with a smacking kiss on the lips because even though we just arrived, I had to begin working right away.
For the next few days, I was so busy in negotiations that I barely had time to think about what I had planned for Wednesday. But as I stepped through the door of our suite, I knew that everything would work out perfectly.
“You look amazing,” I whispered as Georgie stepped out of the bedroom.
The dress that I had sent over for her to wear fit her perfectly. It was white and flowed loosely around her body with a plunging neckline and delicate lace sleeves. The only embellishment was a jeweled belt around her waist. The emerald studs that I gave her, along with her engagement ring, popped against the brilliant white fabric of the dress, and her hair was my favorite shade of golden honey.
“Jameson, this is a wedding dress,” she informed me, sweeping a hand down the length of her dress.
“No. It’s just a dress that happens to be white,” I contradicted her. “Give me fifteen minutes to shower and change, and then we’ll leave.”
Suddenly, my nerves caught up with me, and while I showered, I felt like everything I had arranged for tonight would suddenly fall apart.
I stepped into the suite’s closet and pulled the black velvet tuxedo out of the garment bag, where it had been hiding almost in plain sight. It was a little much for a night at the theater, but not for a secret garden wedding.
Georgie’s jaw literally dropped when I walked out of the bedroom.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed out. She stepped toward me and ran her hands up and down the soft fabric. Then she smiled wickedly. “You look like sin in a suit, Jameson.”
“I’m glad you approve. Let’s go; we’re going to be late,” I commanded.
I grabbed her by the hand and practically dragged her out of our room and down to the front of the hotel. A shiny black vintage Rolls Royce limousine waited for us in the hotel’s portico. This wasn’t standard protocol for the president, but I might have made a few calls to the royal family to secure one. Luckily, we weren’t going far because my plans included shutting down streets and public spaces.
“Where are we going, really?” Georgie demanded as we both settled against the luxurious leather seats in the back.
“You’ll see. It’s not far.”
“So it’s not the West End, then?”
“No, sadly, we are not going to see a play.”
Georgie kept squirming around, trying to get a peek at where we were going, but it was almost impossible to see anything through the tinted windows.
The car pulled up in front of a set of impressive iron gates that effectively kept the secret in place until the moment Georgie stepped through them. A gasp escaped her lips, and the bottom one trembled slightly as she turned toward me.
“What have you done?”
“I’m keeping my promise, little darling.”
The coordinator that I hired stepped through the bushes and wordlessly handed Georgie a bouquet of lilies of the valley. There was no need to explain to Georgie what was happening. She figured it out the moment she saw my parents, Sean, DeWayne and Avon, and Elias and Esme seated in front of a lighted archway.
She looked around, confused. “Where are Lewis and Jenkins?”
“Right here,” they said in unison, stepping out from behind the same bushes.
“I thought you might like to have them walk you down the aisle,” I said in a low, hushed voice.
There was no stopping the tears that began to stream down her cheeks. She nodded, and I left her side briefly to jog down to the opposite end of the makeshift aisle. Georgie linked arms with Lewis and Jenkins and took a hesitant step forward. The moment she did, the small quartet hired to play what I considered “our song” began performing. Her eyes lit up like sparklers the moment she recognized the first chords.
“Okay, I forgive you,” Sean muttered next to me. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied, my eyes still firmly locked on Georgie.
There was no minister, since we were already married. All I planned was to speak to Georgie from my heart.
Lewis and Jenkins stopped in front of me and released her arms. I reached out a hand toward her, and she took it. I pulled her underneath the canopy of lights and flowers and began.
“I didn’t know it, but I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. When we met, I wasn’t ready to admit that. I wasn’t ready to admit a lot of things, especially that I was falling in love. But I’m ready to admit a few things to you right now. I’m in love with you. I was made to love you. You make me feel everything when we’re together. You make me forget I had a life before you because all that matters now is this.”
I tugged on her hands, bringing them up to my lips, brushing her knuckles with light kisses. “I have a very important question to ask you, Georgie.”
“Yes, Jameson?” she asked shyly.
“Do you want to spend forever with me?”
“Absolutely.”
THE END