Leo might be able to spot my smile slipping, but Suzanne’s already gone back to work, her relief nearly palpable.
My smile tenses, and I’d be willing to bet Leo can see that, even if Suzanne likely doesn’t. “Not a problem. Let me save what I’m doing.” I do that, lock my terminal, grab my work cell, and follow him.
Oh, ofcoursewe’re heading to the residence. Neither of us speak as Leo leads the way upstairs. Right now, there’s no staff up here in this area other than Secret Service. Shae’s in the Oval for a couple of hours, Chris and Kev are both away from the White House, and the kids are in school.
Leo leads me through the main entry at the top of the stairs and down the Center Hall, toward the president’s bedroom. He leaves me waiting there and steps inside, disappearing for a moment. Maybe he’s checking for staff, I don’t know. When he returns, he leads the way upstairs to the third floor, but we don’t go to his office, like I expected.
All the way, he’s checking open doorways as we pass, looking for staff, I’m guessing.
Or maybe it’s him reflexively checking doorways, one of the many silent habits he retains from all his years on the job.
At the end of the Center Hall, he opens the south Music Room door for me—a soundproofed room right next to the workout room—and motions for me to go first, so I do. None of the kids are playing instruments. Right now, it’s set up with a comfortable leather sectional sofa, a TV and stereo, a DVD player, and two different game consoles. But it is soundproofed, even though it has two inside doors, and a funny set of stairs that lead up to the Promenade door.
I should know. He’s fucked me in here before.
More than once.
I turn on him after I hear the locksnapclosed on both doors from the Center Hall area. Only Secret Service will be on the Promenade this time of day, and they won’t bother us, even if they were to look inside.
Which they won’t.
I launch right into it without preamble, opting to play offense instead of defense. “I knew that was a fucking lie and I followed you anyway. Goddammit, I’m an idiot.”
“It wasn’t a lie. Kev reamed me out last week for taking your phone and told me to settle this.” Leo slides his hands into his pockets again. There’s always something disarming about that gesture when he or Elliot does it, and I struggle to hold on to my anger. “And youdohave skillsets I don’t have. So, technically, it wasn’t a lie.”
Must mean he still doesn’t know I listened to that little exchange. I cross my arms over my chest. “Guess I should expect semantics games from a guy who fucking ignores me.”
His jaw literally drops. “I haven’t been ignoring you!”
“Are you fuckingkiddingme? I ream you a new one for stalking me, and for showing up at the house and watching us fuck, andallI asked you for was a little time and space. Then you get pissy when I show some spine and you ghost my ass, while you text El like you’re a couple of damned teenagers trying to figure out how to fuck when your parents aren’t around.”
He actually has theballsto walk away from me and throw his hands up in the air likeI’mthe crazy one! “I cannotevenwith you, Jordan.”
That pisses me off even more. “Are you angry because he called me in to work for him, because he didn’t ask you first and get your permission to do it, or because I’m actually standing up to you and making you work for this instead of being at your beck and call and kissing your ass like I used to?”
Screw this shit. If Leo wants a pissing contest, I’m not giving him one.
Doesn’t help that I’m still in love with the guy.
He wheels around. “Dammit, Jor, I’mnotangry!”
I cross my arms over my chest and force myself to stay calm. “Sure been acting like you are for the past two fricking weeks.”
He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, blows it out. When he speaks again, his voice sounds lower and more controlled. “I’mnotangry. I wanted to talk with you, and you pushed me away and yelled at me—”
“Yeah, because you fucking stalked me to the restaurant, Leo!”
“Because I spent three damned weeksterrifiedsomething had happened to you! Yeah, I stalked you to the restaurant. Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry I give a shit about your safety. Happy?”
“Thanks for not telling me you put a tracking app on my phone, by the way. Serves you damn right to be scared. That was a dick move, asshole.”
He has the decency to look a little abashed. “Elliot told you?”
“Yeah, Elliot told me. Wasn’t hard to figure out, either.Myboy doesn’t fucking lie to me.”
I catch the briefest flicker of darkness in his gaze over that comment before he replies. “Ineverlied to you. Had youaskedme if I had installed an app—”
“I neverdreamedyou’d put one on my phone! That’s a massive violation of my trust, Leo. Not to mention my privacy. At no time after I left did you think to text me and say, ‘Hey, by the way, might want to do such and so and get that off there?’”
