Chapter Forty-Four
Late in September, an early cold front sweeps through the DC area. When I awaken the next morning, I feel a sharp bite in the air that makes me shiver once I climb out of bed. I knew the temperatures would drop overnight, but I didn’t expect it to feel this chilly inside the house, or I would have adjusted the thermostat before bed.
I pull on Elliot’s robe and, after using the bathroom, I bump the thermostat warmer by a couple of degrees before I make our coffee. On my way downstairs, I peek outside and see it’s raining, the cold outside beating against the glass in the window and trying to pierce through it. One of those days that makes you wish you could call in sick and stay in bed all day.
Especially if you have someone as cute as Elliot to stay in bed with.
Thank goodness Elliot isn’t going anywhere today except to the White House. He’s handling calls and meetings on-site and playing catch-up before we crank up the weekend appearance schedule tomorrow. Otherwise, I’d be worried about Elliot’s pain levels. Days like this can make him brutally ache, and he’s bad about downplaying his true pain levels. Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, though. Once I have our coffee ready, I carry the mugs upstairs, set them on the nightstand next to him, and round the bed.
I’m slipping back under the covers when my personal phone vibrates on my nightstand. I immediately grab it and answer, because I recognize the custom vibration pattern I created for Leo.
I hurry into the bathroom to answer it. “Good morning, Sir.” I keep my voice down so Elliot doesn’t startle awake.
“Good morning, boy.” He sounds like shit. “Sorry to call you so early, but I have a favor to ask.”
My pulse races, because something isseriouslywrong. Leo would rather chop off an arm than ask for a favor for himself. “What’s the matter? What happened? Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not. I’m in massive pain and I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to make it downstairs. The president has a trip to Pittsburgh today to give a speech. There and back, a turn and burn. Can you cover for me and staff her today?”
I’m still stuck on the fact that he’s hurting. Since I’m frantically trying to mentally readjust my schedule so I can go take care of him, his request knocks me off my game. “Me?”
“No is a perfectly acceptable answer, Jor.”
Oh, shit.He’s using my name, meaning he’s asking me as an equal, not as my Sir.
Meaning, once again, he’s trying to put himself last. Refusing to “force” me to do something.
Did I mention how infuriatingly stubborn he can sometimes be about putting himself last?
I hear him groan, probably shifting position in bed. I wish I was there with him right now so I could take care of him. “It’s an easy day. Shadow her, let her practice the speech with you onAir Force One, and keep other people away from her unless she specifically asks to talk to them, or they need to speak with her because of NatSec, or something. Don’t let her nuke the little fucker. Put coffee in her hand this morning, keep her hydrated, make sure she eats, get her toMarine Oneon time. You’ll be back by seven tonight. If you can’t do it, I’ll call Kev and see if he can pull someone else to go. Chris has to be at the kids’ school today, or I’d have called him. Kev has meetings he can’t cancel.”
Wow. I’ve never staffed POTUS before. Not like this. I’ve been in attendance and helping Leo, or Kev, or Chris, but I’ve never been her primary body man. Not even during the re-election campaign.
“If your worry is you aren’t sure what to do,” he adds, “don’t worry. You’ll be fine. And you can call or text me with questions, so…bonus.”
I take a deep breath. He doesnotsound good, and I’m fighting the urge to basically take over and dictate how this will play out, and it’s not the way he’s saying it will. “Who’s taking care ofyoutoday, Sir?”
Another pained groan. “I’ve already taken ibuprofen and I have the heating pad. I’m going to soak in a tub full of hot water and Epsom salts and see if I can loosen up some. If I feel I can make it downstairs and back up again later, I’ll call for a ride from the detail and staff Elliot for you. I’ll text you a shopping list, if you don’t mind running to the store for me. I just need a few things.”
“Okay, sure. Like what?”
“Like Epsom salts, for starters. I thought I still had some, but I’m out. Guess I need a keeper after all, baby.” He chuckles, or tries to. Doesn’t fool me, though—he’s in massive pain.
And Iwashis keeper. It was something he joked about plenty of times when he was feeling vulnerable like this.
Whelp. Dammit. I’m hating myself, because I should bethere, with him, taking care of him, making sure he always has everything he might need on hand. My morning just went sideways, meaning Elliot’s day won’t go well, because he’ll be worried about Leo and won’t have me there to keep him focused.
I can’t exactly fudge about this to him, either. It’s a game of dominoes, government staffing style. “Please stay home, Sir. The boy will be fine, and I’ll go to the store for you before I head in to work.”
“Is that a yes to staffing POTUS for me?”
“Yes, Sir.” I hope I don’t regret this. “I’ll staff her for you.”
He sighs with relief. “Thank you, baby boy. I’ll tell Kev about the change so he can amend the travel roster. Just see him when you get to work. I’ll text you the shopping list in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Sir. Are yousureyou don’t want me to come take you to the doctor?” I already know the answer, but it’s the same question I always ask.
“No, I’ll be fine, baby, but thank you. All they’ll want to do is shoot me full of painkillers, and you know I hate those.” He grunts, probably changing positions. “Is the pet awake yet?”
