Taylor raised a brow. “Yeah?”
“The brunch is just downstairs. And after brunch, you’ll be reunited with the governor for lunch with the mayor.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.” Taylor sighed and walked toward the door. When she reached for the knob, she was cut off by one of the Secret Servicemen. He stepped in front of her and opened the door. Only after checking the hall for danger did he allow her to exit. They walked down the hall and passed the guest elevators. The agent insisted they take the service elevator. They stepped into a small room and pushed the call button for the elevator. It didn’t take long to arrive. When the doors parted, they stepped inside and rode it down to ground level. When the doors parted, Taylor waited for the go-ahead to exit. She was learning and adjusting to her new way of life. Once she wasallowed to get off the elevator, she turned to Kim and asked, “Do you know where we’re going?”
“This way, ma’am,” one of the agents responded.
Of course, the agents knew where she was supposed to be. They were always five steps ahead. One led the way while the other followed from the rear. They entered the lobby where a small group of reporters had gathered.
“How are you liking New Orleans?” one reporter shouted.
Taylor brandished her political-wife smile. “I’m loving the city. I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of it. And I really can’t wait to get in front of some good Cajun food. I love Creole cuisine too.”
“Has the governor picked a running mate?” another shouted.
Taylor managed to maintain her smile when she responded. “You’ll have to ask the governor.”
Even if she did know who Victor had chosen as his running mate, the reporter had to know that she couldn’t answer that question. The agent that was behind her stepped between her and the press and urged her along with a hand to her back.
“Mrs. Creed?” called another reporter.
Taylor ignored the reporter and continued on. She wasn’t trying to hold an unscheduled press conference. They turned a corner and walked down a hallway until they reached the Rose Room.
“Please wait here,” the agent in front requested.
When Taylor nodded, he opened the door and entered the Rose Room. She had learned his name, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember it. She did, however, remember the name of the agent behind her. It was John. John didn’t speak much, but he somehow seemed more personable. Unlike the other agent, he didn’t appear to be allergic to smiling.
The agent returned and held the door open for Taylor to enter. “This way, ma’am.”
Taylor took a deep breath and prepared herself for what she assumed would be a disingenuous reception. She stepped inside and found herself completely shocked at who met her on the other side of the door. The Leading Ladies of Louisiana were the polar opposite of what she’d envisioned. They weren’t the elderly, southern, white women she had expected. It was a small group of maybe twelve women and nine were black. Most of the women were close to Taylor’s age, and there wasn’t a hat in the room.
A pretty woman with thick, auburn curls and hazel, almost golden eyes approached, offering her hand. “Mrs. Creed, welcome.”
Taylor chuckled and shook the woman’s hand. Her brow wrinkled. Surely, she must’ve been wondering what she found to be so comical.
The woman smiled as if she’d gained some understanding. “Not what you expected, huh?”
Taylor sighed. “Not at all.”
The woman laughed. “I get that,” she said with a nod. “I’m Enola Roux-Toussaint.”
She turned and gestured toward two women with a familial resemblance to her. “This is my cousin, Margot and my aunt, Ruby.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Creed,” spoke the eldest of the three.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” she said, shaking each of their hands. “Please, call me Taylor.”
The women nodded with a smile. “Will do.”
Taylor gestured toward Kim. “This is Kim, my assistant.”
“Nice to meet you, Kim,” Enola greeted. “Come. Let me introduce you to the rest of the women.”
“Great.” Taylor moved to walk with Enola when she was hit with a realization. “Toussaint,” she recalled. “As inGideon Toussaint?”
Enola smiled with glowing pride. “Gideon is my husband.”
Taylor smiled. She had every reason to be proud. Gideon Toussaint was a Cajun god, tall and muscular with thick dark waves and eyes the color of ice. When she first saw his photo, she provoked and ass smack from her husband when she teased that Gideon Toussaint could give Victor a run for his money. “So, this is your place. Let me just say your hotel is exquisite.”
