"I promise we'll take good care of Grem, too."
Lauren relaxed and returned the girl's hug with more vigor. "I know you will, Ash. Have fun while we're gone."
*
*
*
Lauren tried not to let the excitement show in her face as the limousine pulled up to the plane.
It’s just a plane. It's just a plane. You've been on a plane before.
Her eyes were riveted on the enormous steel monster.
Oh, man, for two Hershey bars and a window seat on that bad boy, I'd have Dev's baby.
Her face turned bright red as the direction of her thoughts registered.
"I've arranged for you to have your own office onboard," Dev commented casually, oblivious to the sometimes profound, but always unique, mental machinations of her biographer. She leaned closer to Lauren, wondering exactly when it was that they'd gone from sitting across from each other to sitting side by side. Not that she was complaining. "It's the office normally reserved for the First Lady. I um I hope you like it and the plane, too. It's really nice and um... fast," she babbled.
Great, now I sound like a sixteen-year-old trying to impress a pretty girl with a ride in my Daddy's Corvette.
"Oh, well, I'll just have to make do. I don't know how I'll manage," Lauren drawled, fanning herself in mock-distress and doing her best southern belle imitation.
Dev laughed. "Well, it's only fitting that you have the First Lady's office on Air Force One since you've been sleeping in her room in the White House." Dev pulled Lauren's new novel from the bag at her feet and eagerly set it on her lap. "I don't intend to work any more than I have to on this flight. I'm going to read."
Lauren's ego practically purred under Dev's gentle stroking. She never got to enjoy a real live fan's reaction to her novels. "Any suggestions for the next Adrienne Nash book? Since you've read them all?"
Dev nodded emphatically. "Oh, absolutely. She needs a girlfriend."
Lauren crossed her arms, drawing back from Dev. "Oh, she does, does she?”
Could be interesting. A tall, beautiful one with piercing blue eyes perhaps? That would sure throw a few readers for a loop.
"Yup!" Dev grinned. "She'd be much more at peace with herself. More content. And completely satisfied."
Pale brows lifted. "That's one hell of a girlfriend."
"Uh huh."
Lauren glanced sideways at the President. "And what makes you think Adrienne Nash is interested in women?"
Before Dev could answer, the car stopped and her door was opened from the outside. She smiled and climbed out, turning to give the waiting Press a quick wave before extending her hand to Lauren. With a slight tug, she helped the writer out of the car. "What makes you think she's not?" Dev asked, pressing her hand lightly against the small of Lauren's back, giving her a nudge in the right direction.
"Good point."
The women were pelted with a flurry of questions from the waiting Press, their shouts barely heard above the general hum of car and plane engines and other airport activity. Dev completely ignored the reporters, but noticed that Lauren's back went ramrod straight and that her stride slowed after a particularly personal and inappropriate question was thrown her way. The President leaned down a little and told Lauren, "Just keep walking. Ignore it."
The blonde woman lifted her jaw, and Dev felt a flash of worry. She could tell that Lauren was considering doing or saying something, and Dev shivered when she imagined what it could be. "Ahh... Lauren, I'm sure whatever you're thinking about doing would be extremely satisfying."
Lauren nodded tersely, kicking a pebble across the concrete as she picked up the pace. "So very satisfying."
"But please don't. It will only add fuel to the fire."
Dev paused, allowing Lauren to start the climb up the stairs ahead of her. She was very well aware of the cameras going off all around them as they boarded. At the top Lauren paused to wait for Dev, but quickly stepped inside when Dev motioned her back. "Go inside so they'll leave you alone." The President winked, then turned at the top of the steps to give a final wave before stepping onboard herself.
David met them at the door, as did Liza, who slipped a file into Dev's hand. "We have a call waiting for you, Madam President."
Dev's head dropped forward and she groaned. "Of course you do. I'll take it in my office. David, will you show Lauren to her office and make sure that her computer and other things were deliv-"
David nodded and gave Dev a push toward her office. "Everything is ready, and I'll be happy to show her where she can set up."
Dev gave Lauren an aggrieved look, then peeled off, following Liza down the hall. Before she disappeared into her office, she turned around and tapped Lauren's novel, yelling, "I'm telling you-"
"I'm thinking about it," Lauren shot back with a grin.
"Thinking about what?" David gingerly took the writer by the elbow and pointed to the opposite end of the hallway.
"Lots of things," the blonde admitted quietly.
David opened the door to the office and gestured for Lauren to enter. "Wow." She took a moment to take it all in. "This is incredible. I can't believe I'm on an airplane."
"Well, it's not called ‘The Flying Oval Office' for nothing. It really is amazing. Did you know that about 238 miles of wire wind through the plane? That is more than twice the wiring found in a typical 747. The wire protects the plane from electromagnetic pulses generated by a thermonuclear blast. Even in a nuclear war, we'll still be able to receive electronic signals," he enthused.
The blood drained from Lauren's face.
"Oh! Sorry. Not that I suspect a thermonuclear war," David offered quickly.
"Thanks for clearing that up."
He unbuttoned his jacket and ran a hand through his close-cropped red hair. Taking a deep breath he asked, "Can I come in for a moment? I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."
Lauren eyed him seriously, chewing her lip as she wondered if she'd done something wrong. She and David had been getting along just fine these past few months. Lauren moved behind her desk and dropped into a soft leather swivel chair. It forced David to talk to her across the desk and put her in an immediate position of power. It was a trick she'd subconsciously picked up from Dev. "Sure. Is something wrong?"
"Truth is," David closed the door and took a seat on the couch, skipping over the chair in front of the desk, "I'm not sure."
"What do you mean? Is there a problem with the book?" Lauren had agreed to let David read the rough notes that would form the beginning of the prologue to Dev's biography. It was mostly background and family information and wouldn't change, no matter what happened in the next four years. She'd never shared any part of her preliminary work before, but, as Dev's best friend and the President's Chief of Staff, she valued David's unique insight.
"No! Everything looks great so far. Dev is going to love it. She'll get a big chuckle out of the fact that one of her ancestors was a convicted horse thief. Must be where her natural talent for politics comes from."
"Then what?"
"It's Dev." He looked her directly in the eye. "She's, umm, really opened up to you, you know?"
Lauren nodded reluctantly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with where this was going. "That's true. For a biography to be good, a subject has to open up to the writer."
"I'm not talking about the book, Lauren. I'm talking about on a personal level. She's really taking a chance here. In fact, I haven't seen her warm up to another person so quickly since..." his words trailed off, and Lauren caught the significance.
"Samantha?" Her voice conveyed her astonishment.
David nodded. "I can see you understand." He stood and buttoned his jacket. "I trust you not to hurt her. You're the first person in a long time who has seemed to make her happy." He paused. "Just don't lead her on. Please." The man turned and quietly left the office.
Dumbfounded, Lauren blinked several times in rapid succession.
Lead her on?
Coming to her senses, she jumped up from her desk. "David, wait!"
The Chief of Staff stopped and turned around in the hall. "Yeah?"
"You believe the rumors, don't you?" Lauren lowered her voice, looking around a little nervously. "The ones about Devlyn and me."
"I'm not sure what to believe at this point." He placed his hand on the plane wall as he felt the big machine begin to taxi down the runway. "I'm just asking you to be careful."
"Then, just like Devlyn, you're going to have to trust me." She could see the hesitancy in his eyes. "I'll admit it probably wasn't the smartest professional move I've ever made. But somewhere in the last two months, we became real friends, David. Please know that I wouldn't do anything I thought would hurt her. I'm not leading anyone on."
Her voice was pleading, and he had no choice but to believe her. He hated being surrounded by honest people. This was Washington politics for God's sake.
"I do trust you." He smiled softly. "And I'm glad she has you for a friend. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a call to make myself."
*
*
*
Lauren's notebook was in her lap as she sat hunched over on the long sofa in her office aboard the ‘Flying Oval Office', scrawling away. She glanced up at the steward, who placed the milk on the table in front of her. After so many weeks with Dev, the writer had grown rather fond of the beverage as well, but she discovered it had to be ice cold for her to truly enjoy it.
Do I need to wonder where this came from?
“Thank you."
"My pleasure, Ms. Strayer. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks." She pushed her glasses up, rolling her neck to work out its tightness before taking the glass. She was amazed that it was, indeed, ice cold.
Are they all mind readers?
Lauren glanced at her watch. They'd been in the air almost two hours, and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Devlyn since they parted in the hallway.
Quit your whining. You're a big girl, and you know she's busy.
With a soundless sigh, she went back to her notebook and her milk.
Dev finally showed up outside her door almost an hour later. The President gave a light rap and heard Lauren's answering ‘Come in'.
Blue eyes rolled at Lauren as Dev marched into the office, arms outstretched in front of her like Frankenstein's monster. She walked stiff-legged across the room to the couch, where she collapsed face down. "I'm such a bad mother," she mumbled into the cushion.
"What?!" Lauren snorted. "No way."
Dev rolled over, clutching a small throw pillow to her chest. "I just realized that I'm not going to be home for Christopher's birthday next week." She folded her arms around the pillow and tucked it under her chin, looking down the couch at Lauren. "Maybe I can airmail him a camel."
The writer turned her body, lifting one arm to rest it on the back of the couch. "Nah, that's overkill. Besides, you get him a camel, and next he'll want an elephant, and before you know it: poof! You've got rhinos eating the bushes in the Rose Garden, and the south lawn is a petting zoo.”
C’mon, Dev, smile.
Dev's laughter rang out through the plane so loudly that Lauren wondered if the Press rats, who were housed near the rear of the plane and went along on every Air Force One flight, could hear her. Then she got hit in the head with the pillow Dev had been using.