Chapter 25

Beatrice

The Secret Service doesn’t fuck around.

The men that Henry sent to have the paparazzi cleared from my path went about it with the effort of swatting a mosquito.

It’s an odd juxtaposition to feel this anxious, yet incredibly safe, at the same time.

The trip to the White House feels like an eternity.

A wave of relief washes over me once we make it through the gates. Regardless of what Hollywood would have you think with all those movies, this is perhaps the most secured place on the planet.

I’m led through the building—even though I know exactly where everything is—and to the Oval Office.

When the doors open, I see Henry sitting on the ledge of the Resolute desk with Hope and Lawrence.

He looks evidently worried, but that quickly fades to relief when his green eyes see me walk into the office.

Henry moves across the large office as if strapped to a rocket to scoop me up into his arms.

I’ve never felt safer and more protected.

His lips meet mine in a brief, tender kiss that makes me smile.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a bit shaken up,” I say with a nod. “I really wasn’t expecting to be bombarded like that. Not this soon anyway.”

“We were hoping to control the flow of information when the news of your involvement broke, but the press picked up where the European papers left off,” Hope says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Given how crazy and frantic everything has been, I’m glad to see Hope here.

At first, I wasn’t sure how she felt about me, but after we talked last night, I know that she’s firmly in my corner.

Lawrence, on the other hand, is difficult to read.

I know I shouldn’t give a damn how he feels about me—or my blossoming relationship with Henry—but I do. I know how close and important Lawrence is to Henry, and that means that he’s important to me, too.

So, for Henry’s sake, I want to make sure he’s on board with this, too.

“So, what’s our next step? I can’t hide from the press forever.”

“You’re right. So that means we need to whip you into First Lady material,” Hope answers with a grin.

“Whoa, back the truck up. ‘First Lady material?’ What happened to taking things slowly?”

I feel like my eyes are going to pop out as I look up at Henry—who’s grinning ear to ear as he looks down at me.

“Figuratively speaking. Not literally.”

“Uh-huh,” I respond with a grin of my own.

“Look, if I was going to propose, I wouldn’t ask Hope to be my proxy.”

“No, he’d lead you out into the South Lawn where all Secret Service agents would be dressed as Cupid in a giant heart formation and armed with semi-automatic weapons, while he got down on one knee,” Lawrence chimes in deadpan.

“Well, now that that option is on the table, how can I not go with that?” Henry says with a laugh as he look over his shoulder at his friend.

“But seriously, what’s your plan?” I ask looking past Henry to Hope.

“Well, for starters, we need to change your wardrobe.”

“What’s wrong with my wardrobe?”

“Don’t get me wrong Beatrice, you’re quite trendy, but your style is more about blending in than standing out.”

“And I’m guessing the plan is to make me stand out more.”

“Yes, and have your style and outfits match Henry’s,” Lawrence chimes in.

As fun as it is to have your choice in clothing judged—hint, it’s not—I understand their reasoning.

And hey, new wardrobe though. That’s a bonus.

“At Henry’s order, we’ve set up a security detail for you as well. This way, when you and Hope go shopping, the press will be kept at bay.”

“And don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s plenty of wine wherever we go.”

Hope’s lips flash a mischievous smile, and her eyes dance about playfully.

This is sounding more enjoyable by the minute.

Henry and Lawrence share a look of mild concern and intrigue. It’s like two parents second-guessing their decision to let their kids run around Disneyland unattended.

“I promise that we’ll behave. Mostly,” I say as I reach up to kiss Henry on the cheek.

“We also have a room for you here. Going back to your apartment is just a tad too risky,” Lawrence states.

“What about Duke?”

Henry senses my concern and takes my hand in his. He gives it a gentle squeeze and flashes me a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Bea, I’ll have my people bring him here. I’m sure he’ll love having such a big lawn.”

Could this man be any more perfect?

Our lips meet in a quick kiss that makes my stomach flutter with butterflies and fireworks.

Against my thigh, I feel the vibrating of my cell.

When I pull it from my pocket, I can see Fiona’s name in big bold letters.

Henry notices who it is and nods for me to take the call.

We steal another kiss before I step out of the office and into the hallway.

“Hey, Fiona.”

“Hey! Are you okay? I just caught the news about the massive ambush outside your place. I heard that the Secret Service showed up and marched you out of there.”

I can hear the tension and concern in her voice.

Oddly enough, it makes me smile knowing that she’s so concerned.

“I’m fine, really. It was pretty nerve-wracking at first, but I called Henry and he had his people come grab me. I’m at the White House right now.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re okay. In case you hadn’t noticed, I was pretty fucking worried over here.”

“Oh, I caught that,” I say with a chuckle.

Fiona laughs softly on her end.

“Can I ask you something, Bea?”

“Always.”

“Are you happy with the gig?”

“Of course I am. Aside from the fact that it led me to being with Henry, this is a huge opportunity. Why?”

There’s a short pause that leaves me a bit worried.

“Well, you know how you had your eye on the European office in Brussels?”

“Yes, I’ve been aiming to land that job for years. But Daniel’s made it clear he isn’t stepping down anytime soon.”

“Well, Daniel resigned just this morning. Turns out he was banging two of his editors.”

“Seriously?! Which ones?”

“Rachel Neveu and Stephen Moyer.”

My jaw drops in surprise.

Never would I have seen that coming in a million years.

“So, since Daniel stepped down, the job is there—if you want it.”

“Wait, what? They’re offering me the position?”

If I was surprised by Daniel’s resignation, I’m outright stunned now.

“Nobody’s more qualified than you.”

“As tempting as the offer is—and it really is—I’ve got a good thing going on here.”

“As Henry’s biographer or as his woman?”

“Both?”

I hear her chuckle again on the other end. I picture Fiona in my head sitting at her desk and shaking her head at me right now.

“If you’re a hundred percent certain this is what you want, then I’ll let them know you’ve passed. But if you change your mind, chances are the job won’t be there.”

I look over my shoulder to the doors of the Oval Office.

“Oh, well.”