Page 8 of The Devil Goes to Washington

“Did you lose something, Madam?”

“What? No. I just need to wash our things. Micah got a little excited in the mud today.”

“I’ll take those for you.”

“It’s fine. Just point me in the right direction.”

“Madam, I really can’t let you do that. It’s my job. And I would get in trouble if I didn’t take care of it.”

“It’s true. Everyone needs to know their place around here.” A stern feminine voice inserted itself into their conversation. She hadn’t missed the double meaning in the woman’s words.

Evelyn turned around and faced a young blonde in an off-the-rack skirt suit that was too tight to be comfortable and four-inch heels that made her ankles wobble... She considered whether this woman was the reason Michael didn’t visit her on their wedding night. Then she reminded herself that she was fortunate to have him distracted.

“Hello. I’m Evelyn. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Meghan, your personal assistant. Anything you need will go through me. Tilly, you may go. Take the laundry with you.” Meghan smoothed down the bangs of her straight-cut bob, watching Tilly scurry away.

This was a woman with aspirations. Even if there wasn’t anything between her and Michael yet, Meghan had already decided she was in charge. She was going to be in for a bit of a rude awakening with Eveyln.

“I think you may be mistaken about the definition of the word ‘assistant’. I make my own decisions. You may help when needed. My things are not to be trifled with, do you understand?”

“Michael...I mean, Mr. Harding asked me to be sure you are prepared for upcoming events. I will be keeping your schedule and a list of things you need to do.”

“I don’t know what you’ve been told about me, but as a single mom who had to hold down multiple jobs, I’m pretty fucking fantastic at multitasking and getting my shit done.”

“But Michael said-”

“I know you have to report back on everything I do. In the meantime, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. It would be nice if we could get along. But to do that you have to take a chance to get to know me and not what Michael has said.”

“I don’t know... I mean, I get it, but I need this job.”

“Don’t worry, Meghan. We’ll work it out. Now tell me what items need to be on this schedule.”

“Your premiere as a couple is next week. It’s a black-tie charity dinner at the Kennedy Center hosted by the McAllister Foundation.”

“I’m familiar with the McAllisters. I assume this is for the children with congenital heart defects?”

“So, I don’t need to tell you how important this is to Michael. Now, we need to go shopping for a dress. We can go to some of the high-end department stores but there are a few boutiques that may have something to accommodate you.” Meghan examined Evelyn’s oversized college sweatshirt, baggy jeans, and worn-out generic sneakers with a grimace.

“Do you know how much those gowns cost? I can’t do that!”

“But Mrs. Harding, you have to attend and wear an appropriate gown.”

“No one said I had to spend thousands of dollars on it or that it had to be new. Come, Meghan! I’ll show you how the little people survive!”

“ENTER!” HE GLANCED up from his paperwork at the sound of a knock. “What were her activities today, Banner?”

“They ate a meager breakfast of oatmeal with some fruit,” Banner read from his small notebook.

“I’m not interested in their eating habits unless they are demanding luxury items and selling them on the black market,” he barked at the thorough butler.

“Mrs. Harding packed a bag...”

“Can you please stop calling her that? Anything but that. What was in the bag? Did you examine it?” Michael asked, sure Evelyn would trip up and reveal her true self when no one was looking.

“I did not. However, Cora helped pack it with lunch and snacks. Mrs— Ms. Evelyn added a jacket for Micah.”

“Next.” He closed his eyes, trying to hide his boredom.