I’m not asking Elliot to let me come over to his apartment. The other night was a fluke, I suppose, because he hasn’t asked again.
Yes, that stings. You’d think by now I should know better than to get my hopes up.
Unfortunately, my plan for the morning—to meet Jordan for the White House tour, so I can answer any questions he might have—gets borked when Shae’s hung up in meetings for longer than she’d anticipated and I really can’t leave her.
That’s when I call my friend, Chuck, who’s the Head Usher, apologize for running late, and tell him to start without me. Fortunately, he’s been in DC and working at the White House for several decades, and he understands the way things work in this town and how schedules can change multiple times in a matter of minutes.
I escort Shae back to campaign headquarters and check to see if I have any messages or instructions. I’m also checking to see if Elliot might happen to be there and discover he’s still on the Hill. As I prepare to leave, I run into Chris.
He winks. “Have fun today.”
That pulls me up short. I stop and turn. “Huh?”
He grins. “With Jordan. Have fun. You need a distraction.”
My brain’s being pulled twenty different directions right now because of the transition, so a distraction isliterallythe last thing I need. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means, boss.”
“You’ll see. By the way, don’t be in a hurry to get back here. Take him out to a long lunch on the campaign’s tab. Someplace nice. We’re not going to be free until probably six, at the earliest.”
I literally have to stop, take a breath, and force my brain to downshift to process this conversation as I focus on him. “What are you saying?”
Chris shrugs and reaches up to loosen his tie. “I’m not saying anything.” He smacks me on the shoulder and heads back toward his office.
Jesus, I cannotevenwith him today.
I catch a cab to the White House and quickly make my way through security. Thankfully, most of the guys know me, and know I’m on the transition team, so I quickly skate past several others who’ve been waiting in line when I’m waved through and given a pass.
It’s been a while since I’ve been here, and it feels…damnedgood walking through those doors once more.
Easy to remember what it felt like reporting here for work every day.
It was a feeling I thought I’d never again get to experience but there it is, all fresh and new.
Never gets old, no matter how many times I walk through those doors. In fact, I pause for a moment just outside and take a deep breath before the Marine standing guard opens the door for me and I enter.
After finding out where Chuck and Jordan are, I pause to chat with a couple of agents on my way to the stairs, guys I haven’t seen in years, in some cases. I’ve missed all of the tour, so I might as well play catch-up in other ways.
Except as I head up the stairs, I spot Chuck.
I also get a look at the adorable hottie with him, who looks like a terrified lamb in a lion’s pit. Wide-eyed behind his glasses, his hazel-green eyes are so light that they appear nearly grey. Maybe five-seven, slender, his business-short dark blond hair is neatly styled, and his khakis are pressed. His heavy coat, however, looks like it’s rarely been worn. Or maybe he had to purchase it specially for this trip to DC. He’s clutching a notebook to his chest like a protective shield.
Oh, baby boy.
He’s not quite a twink but damned close. There’s an old-soul air to him, however, that ages him a little. While his face is young, my god, his eyes.
Those sweetly gorgeous eyes.
If he ever wears contacts, I’ll spank his ass.
Yes, I realize that’s…creepy to be thinking like that and I don’t even know for sure he’s the guy.
I opt for nonchalance. “Hi, Chuck.” I spot the agent shadowing Chuck and the gorgeous guy I hope to hell is Jordan Walsh and realize I know him, too. “Oh, hey, Dale. Sorry I’m late but Senator Samuels’ meeting ran long.”
Chuck nods to me. “Hey, Leo. We just finished here. We’re all done.”
I deliberately stop two steps below them, putting me eye-to-eye with Jordan. I offer my hand. “Jordan Walsh, I presume? Leo Cruz.”
He nudges his glasses up his nose. “Y-yes. Hi. Nice to meet you, sir.” He shakes with me and his hand feels soft and cool in mine.
