Secrets of a First Daughter (13 page)

Once we were all assembled
in the unmarked limo and Parker had secured the area, Mom did that thing when she puts the pressure on. She waited.

The silence pulsed in the cab. George handled the anxiety pretty well, but Hannah looked nauseous. It's not easy having the president of the United States glare at you like she's contemplating sending you to a federal penitentiary.

Finally I couldn't take seeing them suffer anymore. “You would have done the same thing if you'd been in my shoes, Mom.”

“Really, Morgan? Do you honestly think I would have jeopardized our relationship with our closest ally so I could chitchat about Hannah with the queen of England?”

“How did you know about that?”

“Because Her Majesty mentioned it to me in passing when
I
finally met her.”

“Oh.” I guess we'd never thought through that part of the plan, though it was obvious in hindsight.

“And you.” Mom turned to George and zapped her with a fierce look. “You enabled them.”

“Yes.” George's pixie face never changed, but her knuckles whitened.

I jumped in. “I forced George into it, Mom—”

“It's all my fault—” Hannah began at the same time.

“I should have stuck to protocol—” George was saying.

Mom held up her hand to stop the three of us from talking over one another. “I don't want to hear excuses from
any
of you.” She glared at the three of us. “Hannah, I'd like both you and George to exit the limo. I have a few words I want to say to my daughter. Alone. And if either of you ever speak of this again, you can forget clemency.”

George and Hannah couldn't scramble out of the car fast enough.

Now my mother and I sat in stony silence. Well, it was stony on her part. On mine, it was closer to terrified.

She sighed, and all the anger drained out of her. “Morgan, what were you thinking? Do you know how dangerous impersonating me is?”

“I had a good reason.”

“You think helping a friend with her love life is enough of a reason? What if you had gotten caught? Or if the queen
had no sense of humor regarding her grandson? I had to do some quick thinking when
I
met her to cover your tracks. You put me in an embarrassing situation with a major head of state, Morgan.”

“Oh.” I hadn't thought about how my encounter with the queen would impact Mom.

“I wish you would learn to make better decisions,” Mom continued. Disappointment suffused her voice. “You're an Abbott, and you need to be more careful about the repercussions of your actions.”

Indignation welled up in me. She was right. I wasn't a kid anymore. I knew all about being responsible for my actions. I would take whatever punishment she decided to dish out. I deserved it.

“Maybe I do make screwy decisions sometimes,” I said. “But when I make a choice, I usually have a good reason. There are some things, really important things worth risking everything for. Hannah is definitely one of those things. She needed me, and I was the only one who could help her.”

Now that I'd gotten started, I was finding it hard to shut up. “I don't need a lecture on how I'm the daughter of the president, and how I need to behave appropriately and conform to expectations—I've been doing that ever since you became president. In fact, my whole life is ruled by
what people expect of the president's daughter. I'm getting soooo sick of worrying how disappointed everyone will be if I don't meet those expectations. Including you. I know I can royally screw things up. But I'm trying to live my life the best I can.”

“This isn't about Hannah anymore, is it?” Mom asked when I paused for breath.

“I don't think so.” Really, it wasn't.

“Go on.”

“I don't want to go to any of the colleges that have floated offers for me. They only want me because I'm your daughter.”

“Oh, come on, honey—”

“You've seen my report card. My crappy GPA. Heck, you talk to Ms. Gibson on a monthly basis about my lousy grades. It's so obvious that these colleges want
me
because of
you
.”

Mom couldn't refute it. “So what do you want?”

I took a deep breath. “I want to go to culinary school and study to become a chef.”

“A chef. Interesting.”

“I think I'd make a great one,” I said. “I love to cook, and I'm really good at it. It's the one thing I know I can excel at. I'd ace my classes in culinary school for sure.”

“Anything else?” Mom prodded when I fell silent.

I took a deep breath. “I'm dating Max Jackson.”

“Ah” was all Mom said. She gazed at me like she was seeing me for the first time.

I steeled myself for a lecture.

“It's about time you came clean, Morgan. I was wondering when you and Max would figure it out.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on, sweetie. Don't you know it's impossible to keep secrets when you're being watched twenty-four-seven in the bubble? And I'm your mother. Don't you think I can see a change in you? I've known about Max since the moment you met each other in the Oval Office. It was pretty clear the two of you were going to be an item.”

“You…
knew
?”

“Of course. The way you made his life hell the first few weeks on the job confirmed it. I knew you were testing him to see if he was strong enough for you. He seems to be holding up to the workout you're giving him. He's got a good head on his shoulders, and he seems to be the perfect guy for you.”

The perfect guy. Except…

“It doesn't matter anymore,” I said dully. “Max is probably going to get the job with the British SIS division and move to London and date posh British girls with cute accents who don't have National Disaster as a nickname.”

“I think Max is smarter than that, Morgan. Give the guy some credit. And trust. In the meantime…” Mom flipped open a compartment in the burled wood panel of the limo and pulled out a brochure. “Here.”

Le Cordon Bleu. London campus.

“You should follow your dreams no matter where they take you. Even if you are the president's daughter.”

I launched into Mom's arms and we hugged each other hard.

Parker escorted me back
to my unmarked car since Mom would be heading to Buckingham Palace for a long (and guaranteed to be boring) state dinner with the queen. George waited outside the car, her hands folded in the deferential Secret Service stance. Her face, like Max's when he was working as my agent, gave no hint of her feelings. She nodded to Parker for the handoff.

“How'd it go?” she asked as she opened the car door for me.

Agents never opened car doors for their protectees. George was more nervous than she let on.

“Not bad,” I told her. “I think we're in the clear.”

She let out a breath.

I climbed inside the car and George followed. Hannah was already inside, nibbling on a nail.

“Well?”

I gave her a thumbs-up.

Hannah went limp with relief. “I thought we were in for it. I owe you big time, Morg.”

“Nah, don't worry about it. You'd do the same for me if you could.”

“You're an awesome friend, ya know?”

“I know.” We cracked up and hugged.

“It's still early,” I said. “And our last night in London. What do you want to do?”

“To tell you the truth, nothing without Rich. I'm gonna miss him so much.”

“I miss Max, too,” I said quietly.

It was too harsh being in London without our boyfriends.

“Actually, plans have already been made for you both,” George said unexpectedly. “I've been instructed to take you to the London Eye.”

“The London Eye? You mean that big Ferris wheel by the Thames River?”

George nodded.

“Wanna go, Hans?”

Hannah shrugged. “Not really. It's seems like the kind of a romantic thing to do with a boyfriend.”

“Mom probably thought it'd be a treat for us, but I'm not feeling it, either, George. Why don't you take us back
to the hotel?”

George got exasperated. “Come on, girls. Don't let your crappy love lives ruin your last night in London.”

“Uh, aren't you supposed to be making us feel better?” I remarked.

“So what if you don't have boyfriends? Go see the sights one last time.”

“I guess she's right,” Hannah said reluctantly. “It'd be lame not to see at least one major tourist attraction before we leave.”

“Fine,” I sighed. “We'll go.”

We wove through London traffic and crossed the Thames River to the South Bank. The London Eye glowed blue and white against the dusky sky like an enormous wheel of fire. Slowly it churned in a circle. George instructed the driver to swing the car to a cordoned off area right outside the front entrance. A sign on the entrance said
THE LONDON EYE IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED TO THE PUBLIC
.

Maybe that's why George insisted Hannah and I go, because closing the attraction would be a major hassle and they wouldn't have wanted the effort to go to waste. I supposed Hannah and I would go up on the Eye, take some photos of the London panorama, then be whisked back to the hotel for a night of British comedy on TV and a box of Wall's ice lollies from room service—

“Oh my
god
!” Hannah shrieked. “It's Rich!”

She'd jumped out of the car almost before it came to a full stop. Prince Richard grinned at her from the platform. He looked so hot in a blue pinstripe blazer and a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the throat.

My own heart leapt. Right next to him stood Max in low-slung jeans and a leather jacket.

I scrambled out after Hannah and headed right into Max's open arms.

“I can't believe you're really here,” I said. “I thought you wanted to break up with me.”

He pulled back, genuinely shocked. “Where'd you get that idea?”

“Uh, when you said maybe we should take a break?”

“I was trying to give you space,” he said. “You know, from all the pressure you're under…and…stuff…”

He trailed off when I started nibbling his earlobe. He was so cute when he got flustered.

“How about I'll tell you when I need space,” I said. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Morgan, guess what?” Hannah yelled from where she was squeezing Prince Richard. “Rich has reserved the entire wheel
just for us
! Isn't that awesome?”

“I thought we needed to celebrate,” Richard said with a
cheeky smile that could melt the Eye's steel struts. “Grandmum decided that she didn't have the right to dictate who I date, and that she trusted my judgment in that respect. I think the president must have said something to her. She's usually not so flexible.”

“Oh,
really
?” I winked at Hannah. “That's fantastic news. Mom comes through again.”

“I have good news, too,” Max said. “I was offered a job with MI6.”

“That's so…great, Max.” I gave him a squeeze, keeping a brave smile on my face. “When do you start?”

“Soon.” He brought his head down to mine and murmured, “Disappointed?”

“A little.”

“Don't be. I'm assigned to their Washington, D.C., division.”

“Max!”

This time my hug nearly strangled him. Now that Mom had given me the green light to tell the world about Max, Brittany Whittaker's evil blackmail scheme fell apart. What's more, now that I'd finally come clean to Mom about what I wanted to do with my life, I could start looking at culinary schools once I got home. Everything was starting to fall into place.

We boarded one of the Eye pods and settled in for a
slow ride on the biggest bicycle wheel in the world. The spectacular view of nighttime London took my breath away—as did Max's kisses every couple minutes or so. Richard and Hannah snogged their lips off for most of the ride. I snuggled into Max's arms for the slow revolution over London, and reveled in feeling his heart thumping steadily against my back.

I sighed. Life was just about perfect for the moment.

“Uh-oh,” Max said as we headed downward to the landing platform. “Media.”

Ugh. Moment over.

A huge gathering of camera crews, paparazzi, and spectators waited below. George and the prince's bodyguards had launched into crowd control. Flashes were already going off and we hadn't even gotten off the Eye pod yet.

I turned to Max. “It's okay if you want to sneak away. I know you're sick of the media zoo.”

“I have a better idea.”

Max took me firmly by the hand and helped me out of the Eye pod. Camera flashes bathed us in electric light.

“No more secrets,” he said. “How about we really steal Brittany's thunder by giving the London paparazzi an exclusive?”

“What sort of exclusive?”

“Let's show them how much I love Morgan Abbott.”

“Love?” Was I really hearing this? “You…are in love with me?”

“Totally. One hundred percent head over heels in love
with you, Morg. Have been ever since you led me on that goofy chase around the White House.”

“Are you sure? I mean, life with me is one disaster after another. Then there's the whole being a celebrity, and the security issues—”

“Morgan?”

“Yeah?”

“You're babbling again.”

“I am?”

He walked me to the edge of the Eye platform, in full view of the media and onlookers who had gathered to celebrity stalk. He took my face in his hands and gave me the most awesome kiss of my life. I barely heard the screams from the crowd, I was so in the moment.

When the kiss ended, I heard the crowd gasp again.

Prince Richard had taken Max's lead and was kissing Hannah, too.

And since we were being honest…

“Hey, Max,” I whispered. “I love you, too.”

The smile that lit up his face was brighter than the neon lights radiating from the London Eye. But mine felt even brighter.

Like my future.