One nasty-tasting belch later, my head’s still low-key throbbing but I know my stomach’s settled already.
Thank you, boy.
I return the bottles to their spot in the cabinet and wonder what other emotional landmines I’ll run across. Last week, it was realizing I still have a canister of his favorite flavor of coffee in the cabinet.
It only takes a minute to make myself a cup of coffee. I carry it back into the bathroom so I can shave and take my shower. I’ll manage to miss the worst of morning rush-hour traffic if I leave this early.
Twenty minutes later, I’m on my second cup of coffee, I’ve downed some Tylenol for my residual headache, I drank two glasses of water to help rehydrate me from yesterday’s drinking binge, and I’m shaved, dressed, and ready to head to work.
I even look like a functioning adult.
I still haven’t powered up the burner phone and read Elliot’s reply, although, as always, I’ve tucked the phone into my pocket.
Don’t want to look.
Can’t make me.
Because despite finding Jordan’s oil in my medicine cabinet, I’m on a relatively even keel this morning—whatever the fuckthatmeans—and I don’t want to blow it. Therefore, I opt to leave the burner phone off.
It’s not even five a.m. when I walk into the White House and head upstairs to the residence. I’m far earlier than I need to be here, but it means I can go up to my office on the third floor and handle a couple of e-mails before I return to the second floor to awaken Shae and Kev.
Except this morning, as I’m climbing the stairs to the third floor, I come face-to-face with Chris coming down them, looking fresh from a workout.
He smiles when he sees me. “Hey. You’re early.”
“Good morning, sir.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Dude,seriously? Even right now? Can’t just call me Chris, huh?”
I force a smile I don’t feel. “Someone trained me well, sir. He’d kick my ass if I didn’t use protocols with the First Family.”
He laughs and smacks me on the shoulder. “They’re both awake already,” he says. “They’ll probably be ready for coffee in a few.”
“Why are you up so early, if I might ask?” The kids don’t have to be up for thirty minutes. Unless there’s been a schedule change no one told me about, Chris usually takes care of getting them ready ahead of Yasmine’s arrival for her to ferry them to school, then he works out.
He grins. “Wanted to give Prophet and Portia a little alone time this morning. She got kind of mouthy with him yesterday afternoon and he wanted to give her an attitude adjustment before she starts her day.” He shrugs. “You know how that is.” He winks, because he knows I knowexactlywhat he means.
“Ah.” It means the president of the United States is in the process of getting a spanking—or more—from her chief of staff. “I’ll go make sure their breakfast is underway.” I turn to head downstairs with him.
We’re almost to the bottom of the stairs when Chris drops the bomb on me. “Oh, by the way, Shae said she’s sending you to California with Elliot today. You might want to go ahead and run back home to pack, if you don’t have a bag here.”
I nearly miss the next step, forcing me to grab the handrail to keep from face-planting down the stairs and having it witnessed by my former boss, the First Spouse. “Say again?”
“You heard me.”
“I…” I’m literally dumbstruck and have to scurry after him. “But President Samuels has a pretty busy schedule the next couple of days.”
“Yeah, well, see, that’s the thing about being POTUS, Leo.”
“Sir?”
He turns, and I see he wears maybe the most evil smile I’ve ever seen on another human being’s face. “She can change things around if she decides to. Kev’s already added you to the travel roster. Don’t worry, I’ll get their coffee and breakfast.” He glances at his watch. “You really should run home and pack, because you’re going to be Elliot’s body man this week.” He winks. “I’ll tell Shae I sent you home, and that you’ll be back soon.”
That’s as good as an order.
Fuck.
I’m going tokillElliot.
