My grandfather just snorted at that. “Bunny’s been trying to get me to stop working for fifty years. At some point she’s going to realize that I’ll be working until they bury me in the ground.”
“Not the flex you think it is, Grandpa,” I told him airily as I hurried past them, Ginny dancing around my feet.
“What I was saying as you ignored me, fruit of my loins,” my mother said dryly as she hurried to catch up with me, “is that I need you to do me a favor.”
“Uh-oh,” I sighed, dreading what she was about to say next. Favors usually came with sleepless nights and a whole heck of a lot of work on my plate.
“There’s supposed to be a dinner for the delegates from the United Kingdom next week,” my mother began.
“Yeah, I’m aware. I planned the menu, the music, and just about everything else around it,” I told her, my voice flat. “What about that dinner?”
Without a formal first lady, or in my mother’s case, a first gentleman, a lot of the party-planning had fallen on my shoulders over the past few years. My grandmother helped whenever she could, but she rarely left the family farm these days, so I had, effectively, become my mother’s first lady.
My mother, seeing my irritation, offered me a sheepish smile. “Your grandfather and I really feel like we need to make some last minute stops before the election and one of those is looking like it’s going to fall on the night of the dinner.”
“And you need me to host the dinner,” I finished for her with a sigh. “And what am I supposed to tell the delegation when they expect the president to show up and it’s just me?”
“Honestly? I think they prefer you over me sometimes, Lennie,” my mother joked. “Besides, the princes will be there. You’re all friends, right?”
“We were friends when we were ten, Mom. The last time I saw them they tried to convince me to go bungee jumping off of the sketchiest bridge imaginable.”
I shuddered at the memory. The three British princes were daredevils of the highest order. The kinds of rich kids who had everything they could possibly ever want so they were constantly thrill seeking to get the rush of serotonin that they couldn’t get from their day-to-day lives.
Definitely not the kind of friends I wanted to hang around with and definitely not the right carrot for her to use to convince me to host an entire delegates dinner by myself.
“The vice president and his pack will also be there to help,” my grandfather pointed out, his words loaded with meaning.
There was a snort from behind us but when I turned all four of the alphas who were following were still stony-faced.
Turning back, I found my grandfather still looking over my shoulder at them, his gray-eyed gaze narrowed.
“That doesn’t help me, Grandpa,” I told him, hoping to make my opinion about Frank Delano and his pack very clear and he at least had the good grace to hold up his hands in surrender at the finality in my tone.
“Please, Lennie,” my mother said, pulling my hands into hers. “I need to do this to help secure this vote…”
Even as she spoke I could feel my resolve crumbling. I would do this for her. I knew I would and she knew it too because I didn’t even need to say yes. She could see it on my face.
Throwing her arms around me she enveloped me in a tight hug. “Thank you, my sweet girl. I promise when this election is over I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
“For as long as I want,” I reminded her, sounding like a petulant child.
“Right,” she affirmed. “Just remember that the UK delegation usually gets a bit too drunk, so I’d keep the refreshments light—no cocktails and make sure the staff knows that certain people will need to be cut off after so many drinks.”
I groaned, already regretting agreeing to this, but my grandfather was quickly changing the subject.
“Agent Adams, Agent Onassis, are you both aware that your families will be here for our annual Holloway barbeque this weekend?”
I turned to find both of the men in question frowning at my grandfather.
Zeke cleared his throat. “No, sir.”
“Well I invited them after seeing you all at the hotel, I figured it would be nice to see them after not being able to see them very often in the past few years,” my grandfather answered like his idea was genius. “And I’d like the two of you to stay as guests rather than on-duty agents. It would only be right since your families will be here.”
Zeke and Maverick stiffened uncomfortably at that and I could almost feel the tension from Brooks and Dallas as my grandfather drew a clear line between them.
“Grandpa…” I started reproachfully, not liking his attitude toward any of them. A sharp thread of protectiveness was winding its way through my chest, my instincts urging me to step in between the four men and my grandfather, a man who I’d often looked at like my own protector for most of my life.
Mine, a voice whispered softly in my head, surprising me.
