Chapter 27
Beatrice
I couldn’t ask or think of a perfect way to spend the evening.
The whole suite is filled with the smell of perfectly cooked buttery popcorn. I’m curled up with Henry—who smells like sandalwood and lemongrass—and I couldn’t feel more content and blissful if I tried.
We’re about halfway through the first season of The West Wing, which Henry has—surprisingly—never seen before. I always figured watching the show was a prerequisite for modern day presidents, but apparently not.
It’s entertaining watching this with him, especially given some of his reactions.
Henry finishes the last of his beer and sets it down on the table as Netflix asks if we’re still watching.
“You know, I could get use to spending my nights like this,” he comments with that ever-so-charming smile of his.
“Which part? Watching Netflix or being curled up with me?”
“Both.”
“Well, you’re certainly not alone there. I can’t remember the last time I had such an enjoyable night in.”
From the floor, near the end of the couch, Duke stirs and gently growls in agreement.
I don’t think anyone has been more excited about coming to stay here at the White House more than Duke has. He’s got so much more room to run around and play here than back at my apartment that it’s essentially heaven for him here.
And everyone has taken a real liking to him, especially Scott—the head of my security detail—and Hope.
Speaking of, I’m fairly certain that there’s something going on between those two and that spending time walking Duke is just a ruse to see each other—not that Duke is complaining.
“Well, I’m glad to see that you and Duke are both enjoying your time here.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Duke’s head lift from the floor and look up at Henry, but he sets it back down when no more words come.
A low grunt comes from his lips once he sees Henry’s lips press against mine in a tender embrace.
If there’s one thing that Duke hasn’t been happy about since coming here, it’s sharing me with Henry. Duke’s not as territorial now as he was when we first arrived, but he’s still getting used to sharing my attention with another man.
“The White House doesn’t feel so…empty with you here.”
Henry’s words are filled with such warmth, affection, and sincerity that it’s impossible not to smile in response to them.
You can always tell when Henry is speaking from the heart. It’s one of the traits I adore most about him.
There’s this kind of vulnerability to him when he speaks about matters close to him. It’s a trait that lesser people would see as a weakness when, in truth, it’s a strength.
I think that’s why the American people voted for him. It’s why I voted for him. You can genuinely see his love for his fellow man when he speaks.
And when he speaks, it’s not from some speech that someone else wrote for him. It’s his words from his heart. I think it’s something that the people really responded to and admired about him.
“Well, there’s no place I’d rather be,” I say.
“You did give up a lot to be here.”
My eyebrow arches in mounting curiosity. “What do you know?”
“Well, I know that you passed up that job offer at the European branch.”
One of the downsides to being involved with the world’s most powerful man is that there isn’t much you can keep secret from him when it comes to your professional life—or personal one, for that matter.
“I found out a couple hours after your phone call with Fiona that you turned it down,” he admits coyly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
“Because I figured you’d mention it whenever you were ready or wanted to. Just because I know these things doesn’t mean I don’t want to give you some semblance of privacy, at least. I wish I didn’t know these things, really. But, given who I am…”
I reach up to cup his cheek in my hand. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow tickles against my palm.
“No, I get it. You’re the president, and I’m just the girlfriend. It’s your people’s job to make sure I’m not a threat or liability. It comes with the territory. I know what I signed up for, Henry.”
I won’t lie, being watched all the time fucking sucks. But, as I told Henry, I knew that it all came with the territory when I agreed to do this. I walked into this knowingly and willingly.
And I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
“So, what other little details have your people told you about me that I don’t know about yet?”
“Nothing else, really. But you’ll be happy to know that we’ve determined that you’re not really some secret Russian sleeper agent out to get me.”
“Oh, well that’s a relief.”
The smile on Henry’s face fades and turns to confusion and curiosity. My own smile fades in response.
“Can I ask you something?” he ventures.
I nod.
“Why did you turn down that job in Europe? That position would have been a huge leap forward in your career.”
“It would’ve been, yes. But it’s not where I need to be right now. My place is here at your side.”
“I just don’t want to be the reason your career suffers or takes a backseat. I know it’s just as important to you as mine is to me.”
“It is, but this is a big opportunity, too. And I don’t mean us, I mean me being your biographer. Which I still am…right?”
“Of course. Just because we’re seeing each other doesn’t mean you’re out of a job.”
We share another tender kiss, which is followed by another groan from Duke down on the floor.
“That settles that then,” I say with a smile.
“For the time being anyway,” he says with a suggestive and knowing smirk.
As much as I adore this man, I hate when he does this.
“Alright, spill.”
“Well, for now, you being my biographer is no big deal. But what about when you become the First Lady?”
First Lady?
That’s something I hadn’t really given much thought to. Sure, I’d love to marry Henry someday, but we’re still taking things slow.
Marriage feels a long way off.
The thought of being the First Lady is terrifying. There’s a lot of eyes on me now as it is, but as First Lady?
That’s a whole new ball game.
And I’m lousy at baseball.
Yet there’s an appeal to it, I’ll admit.
A thrill.
First Lady, Mrs Beatrice Thatcher.
It’s got a really nice ring to it.