“Welcome home, sweetheart.”
Chapter One
Lena
“Holy lobster, Batman, look at this.”
My best friend, Chelsea, snickers into her glass of champagne and points to the enormous painting in front of her.
It’s a lobster.
Dancing with a squid.
This painting is the size of the windows that span behind my mother’s desk in the Oval Office. I should know. I was just in there this morning.
Sipping my one and only glass of champagne, I tilt my head to the side, still staring at the painting. There’s alotgoing on. “Is that a—”
“Starfish fucking a clam? Yeah, I think so.”
I blink over at Chelsea, and she grins at me.
“What did you bring me to?”
Chelsea laughs and pats my shoulder. “An art exhibit opening in New York City. Come on, it’s fun. We’re dressed up, drinking bomb champagne, surrounded by your hot security guys.”
I glance over to my Secret Service men. There they are, like always. Dressed in suits, with things in their ears, just like in the movies. Only difference is, we’re not outside, so they’re not wearing sunglasses. Richie has been with me since I was a teenager. But the other one is new. Idon’t remember his name. The rest are scattered throughout the gallery and outside.
I frown at my best friend of twenty years, since our first day of kindergarten.
“They’re nothot.” Only one has ever been hot, and he hasn’t worked for me for years. “They’re annoying.”
“If you have to have annoying security, they might as well be hot. They can be both.” She winks at me, and we move along to another piece that features a sink full of dirty dishes and a golden retriever humping a poodle.
“My eyes may never recover from this,” I mutter, making her cackle with delight. Chelsea’s laugh always makes me smile.
We couldn’t be more different. She’s the wild one. The risk-taker, the loud person with no filter.
She’s also stunning, with long blond hair, bright-cerulean eyes, and an hourglass figure that fills out her blue dress perfectly.
She’s a showstopper.
I can never tell her no about anything, including this last-minute trip into New York City for this exhibit. Chels loves the city, and I would rather be anywhere else.
Somewhere quiet, where I can think, where there aren’t many people. Or any people at all.
“You should have an exhibit of your own, Lena,” Chelsea says, sobering. “You’re way better than this.”
“You can’t compare my art to this. It’s not the same.”
Chelsea rolls her eyes as she loops her arm through mine, and we click on our stilettos to another room, another gallery. And of course security follows.
“You know what I mean,” she says. “Your art is fucking beautiful, and it should be displayed for others to enjoy. To buy. You could make akilling.”
Shaking my head, I give her arm a squeeze. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m okay.”
I’ve told her before, I don’t want to draw more attention to myself. My mother is the president of the United States. I get plenty of attention already, and I hate it with a passion.
“Maybe once your mom’s term is over, and things settle down a bit,” she says and tips her head against my shoulder.
