Various States of Undress (3 page)

Phil clapped a hand on Roger’s shoulder. “Time to leave.” He ushered the younger man out of the office and followed, closing the door.

For a moment, trepidation began a slow path up Carolina’s spine, but before it could steal her senses, her dad’s arms came around her and she found her nose pressed to the front of his shirt. “Thanks, Dad,” she said in a muffled voice.

He squeezed her shoulders and pulled away to survey her face. “You’re welcome.”

“So . . .” She looked up at him, noting the smile twisting the corners of his lips. She frowned. “This isn’t funny, you know.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. I know.” Then he let loose a signature grin, complete with the tiny gap between his front teeth. “But it kind of is. You have to see it. I watched the security tape twice.”

Carolina groaned.

“Your mother watched it three times.” He chuckled at her gasp of horror. “Oh come on . . . like she’s never heard the word “bastard” before. How long have we been in politics?”

Carolina sat back down on the sofa. “My whole life.”

Patrick sat next to her. “And I’m sorry about that. But, glad too. The opportunities you girls have had . . . well, I’m glad you’ve had them—still have them.”

“Virginia and Georgia may still have them, but I think I’m toast. Crispy. Burned to ashes,” she muttered.

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. Leave that to your sisters. Between the two of them, there are enough theatrics to fuel a bonfire.”

Carolina nodded. “True.” She paused and folded her hands. “But I still have to figure out what I’m going to do.”

“What do you mean? You’re in your last semester. Your classes are finished and all you have left is your thesis. Don’t you want that master’s degree?” Patrick frowned.

No, I want to run screaming from school. I’m twenty-four years old and I’ve been in college my entire adult life,
her conscience said.

Shut UP,
she answered silently and cleared her throat. “Sure. I’m just not sure the university will want me to stay. I mean . . . would
you
want your kids’ principal to be me after what you saw on the security footage? And after how the media will turn the situation into a ball of flames by tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I would too, honey.”

Carolina’s head jerked up and she looked at her mother, who stood just inside the study doorway. “Uh. Hi, Mom.” Her eyes widened as another head poked into the room. A dark head and a serious handsome face. Jason! No,
Jake.
Jake, Jake, Jake. “How did you get back there?”

Marie Fulton walked across the soft carpeting and kissed her husband on the cheek. “He just did. There are doors all over this place, honey.” She leaned across his shoulder and placed a hand to Carolina’s forehead. “Are you sick? You don’t look too well.”

Carolina gave her a tired smile. “I’ve been better, but no, I’m not sick.” She stood up. “Listen. None of this was Jake’s fault. He couldn’t have known that I would—”

Marie waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry. We realize that.” She turned to Jake with her million-dollar, First Lady smile. “Thank you, young man.” Jake nodded. Marie clasped Carolina’s shoulders. “I have a fun idea.”

Carolina gave her mother a wary stare, noting the twinkle in her eyes. Uh oh. Marie Fulton was full of “fun” ideas, but most of them involved treating her daughters to new experiences. Like white-water rafting. Or entire days spent hiking unmarked trails. Her mother loved excitement and becoming First Lady had done nothing to diminish that. In fact, it had given her zest for adventure an adrenalin shot.

Pushing a lock of her curly gray bob behind her ear, Marie grinned. “Oh yes. This is going to be wonderful for you.” She sank into a sofa, one leg curled beneath her. The sleeve of her flowy pantsuit sparkled in the light of the chandelier as she adjusted the simple gold watch on her wrist.

Despite herself, Carolina grinned back. “Mom, I’m so glad you don’t have helmet hair.”

Marie quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” Carolina shook her head. “It’s just that I’ve been surrounded by society women all night. I’m glad that
you
are my mom.”

Marie waved her hand again. “I’m the lucky one, sweetie.” She leaned forward. “Now are you ready to hear about my plan?”

Carolina nodded. “As long as it doesn’t put me in front of the media, I’m ready to listen to any plan.”

“Good. Here’s what I think you need to do. Take a three-week vacation from everything. Stay in your cute apartment. Order pizza. Work on your photography. I know it always used to relax you.” She smiled. “Maybe you could call Regina Frankley for some pointers. She’d be thrilled to hear from you.”

“Really?” Carolina frowned. She hadn’t spoken with their old Wyoming neighbor in a long time. “But I have school. And you wanted me to help you host the Easter Egg Roll and another luncheon. And I have an appointment with the wedding planner and a photo shoot with
Bride
magazine and . . .

She closed her mouth. No. She didn’t have an appointment. Not anymore. No wedding. No dress. No flowers. No Roger.

Thank God,
whispered her conscience. This time she didn’t tell it to shut up.

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “It would be good for you, and Regina is a world-class photographer. You used to love to take nature walks with her when we stayed in our vacation cabin. She still lives on the property, by the way. Still the caretaker for our cabin.”

“That was ten years ago, Dad. I was a kid.” But it felt like yesterday. God, how she’d loved the cabin! If only she could hole up
there
for three weeks. Carolina folded her arms and stared at the carpet.

Well . . . why not
?

Because!
Just because
. She rolled her eyes even as a plan began to form. And then as her protestations slipped away, she realized with complete clarity that
yes
, it was perfect. Just mountains, quiet, and this time of year, snow. Lots of snow. She loved snow.

Carolina smiled. “I haven’t been up to the cabin since I was in high school. And I’ve never been there alone. No offense, but the thought of being by myself is awesome. I don’t know, though. I have a lot of stuff to do.” She threw her hands in the air. “But right now, I don’t care! The media can go suck an Easter egg. I won’t be here to watch.”

Marie frowned. “Carolina. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, sorry. Talking to myself, as usual.” Carolina stood up. Her cramped feet screamed in protest and she kicked off the heels, curling her toes into the carpet. She felt anchored. She felt good. “I’m going to take a vacation.”

“Good, good,” Patrick muttered.

“To Wyoming,” she continued.

Marie shot her husband a look. “Sweetie, that’s just not possible. Tell her, Pat.”

The president crossed his arms. “It’s not possible.” He began pacing. It was a good sign. When her dad paced, it meant that he wanted to say yes, but was trying to think of ways to say no. Carolina could slam the door on
no
in a heartbeat.

“The media will be all over this. They’ll camp out in front of my apartment like vultures.” Carolina frowned. “If I’m taking a break, I want it to be peaceful.”

Marie stood. “We know that, Carolina. But—”

“And the cabin is ready. Full security. Helipad. Command center for the Secret Service.” Carolina pointed at her dad. “The pictures of the renovation were on your desk right after you moved into this office. I saw them. So there shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

She stole a glance at Jake. He hadn’t moved. Hands clasped in front of him, he stood politely in the study doorway staring at . . . nothing. She narrowed her eyes, willing him to look her way. He didn’t.

“And I’m sure Jake here wouldn’t mind a vacation in the mountains.”

No response from Jake, the statue. She gave up with a shrug and looked at her father.

Patrick coughed. “I’m sorry, Carolina. But the answer is no. It’s not the security issue. I don’t want you to isolate yourself in Wyoming when you’ve just been through a traumatic event. Being alone is not the answer, whether it’s actually by yourself or alone in a crowd. Trust my experience on this. You need your family. In fact, why don’t you just stay at the White House tonight? Later this evening, we can play cards or something just like old times.”

“Dad . . .” Carolina closed her eyes for a second. “That’s sweet, but I’d really rather just flop on my own bed and stare at my own ceiling.” She gave him a wry smile. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Patrick stared at her for a few seconds, but nodded. He walked to Jake and squeezed his shoulder. “Could you take her home, young man?”

“Yes, sir.” Jake’s hands unclasped and he held them by his sides.

“Good, good.” The president turned to his daughter. “Give me a hug, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon. Come to dinner tomorrow night.”

So he wasn’t going to cave. Guess she should have expected it. Now that he was president, he had become hyperconcerned about his family’s welfare. It was sweet, but not what she needed right now. Carolina wrapped her arms around her dad’s slight paunch and looked up at his face. “I’m not thirteen years old.”

He winked. “I’m very glad you’re not thirteen anymore.”

She gave his shoulder a light smack and slipped away to hug her mother. “I’ll call you later.”

“Of course,” Marie gave her a quick squeeze. She shook a finger. “Listen up. None of what happened is your fault. So relax and don’t worry. Remember, there are upsides to being in front of the media. That commercial we did for my family first initiative should be airing soon. We will just make sure it’s sooner rather than later.”

Carolina nodded. “The one that highlights my healthy childhood? That should help.” She looked at her mom. “I’m being serious, by the way.”

“I know, honey. You’re a good person. And you’ll be safe from the media.” Glancing at Jake, Marie raised her chin. “Agent Baxter, make sure of that, won’t you?”

Jake nodded. “My pleasure.” For the first time in fifteen minutes, he moved his feet. Carolina tried not to stare at the breadth of his shoulders as he crossed the room to stand next to her.

For all of two seconds he met her eyes, and then he jerked his gaze away. “All set?” he asked.

She nodded and he lifted his wrist microphone to his mouth. “Care Bear on the move. Georgetown apartment. ETA 2230 hours.”

Carolina turned to her father and sighed. “Did I ever tell you I despise my code name?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I think you might have mentioned it a time or two.” He held up his hands. “But don’t blame me. Blame Phil. All of the names start with a C. I think yours is cute, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes. “At least Mom got a fun one.”

“Cornucopia? That’s fun? I sound like a mall food court,” Marie said with a huff.

Patrick let out a deep laugh. “That’s a good one, hon.”

“Thanks, Colossus,” she responded in a sarcastic tone. But Carolina noticed the smile at the corners of her mom’s lips.

As Carolina walked back to the sofa and braced herself on the arm, she laughed, even as she stuffed her feet back into the torture devices that passed for shoes. She felt almost giddy, but sick at the same time. It was hard to pinpoint why.

It wasn’t discovering Roger with a White House hussy. It wasn’t dissolving her engagement. If anything she felt an odd sense of relief on both accounts—
clearly, you didn’t really love that dork—
but the idea of hiding in her apartment made her want to scream.

She turned to Jake. “I’m ready.”

More than ready. As she passed through the outer office and then out into the brisk night air on the colonnade with Jake by her side, she forced herself to gather her courage.

L
ATE THE FOLLOWING
afternoon, Carolina’s courage didn’t need any forcing. In fact, she was ready to spit nails as she walked out of the classroom building and onto the sidewalk. Clumps of students stood off to the side, some pretending to act casual, some of them outright staring. A few even looked accusatory, as if she could help the fact that asshole paparazzi with cameras were dogging her every move, and had been since the minute she’d stepped out of her apartment this morning.

She clung to Jake’s solid arm and lifted her chin to smile. The last thing she wanted was to see photos of herself splashed across the internet, the papers, the scandal rags, with her head ducked in shame. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Roger had.

He’d also spoken to the media this morning, trying to spin the story in his favor while at the same time praising her many charms. It wouldn’t work.

Besides it didn’t matter to the press, because Carolina was the scandal-flavored victim of the moment. No. Not a victim. Not because of Roger. Her smile grew wider and she turned it on Jake, which wasn’t too difficult. He was easy on the eyes and on her side.

“Remind me to do something later, okay?”

“Sure, Miss Fulton. What is it?”

“Oh, nothing important,” she murmured. “Just planning to grab all the photos I have of Roger Chapman, throw them into a trash can, douse them with a fifth of cheap tequila and then light them on fire. Care to help?”

Jake’s lips twitched. “I think I’d end up being the next fired government employee if I did that.”

Carolina sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. But it was a fun thought.” She continued to walk slowly, and the cameras continued with the incessant clicking. Behind her, two Secret Service agents kept pace, and in front of her, two more hustled forward to open the door of the waiting SUV. As soon as she got in and the door slammed shut, she would be home free. Well—home, but not necessarily free. She’d be alone with her thoughts, and since last night, all she’d been thinking about was going to Wyoming.

It made sense; a hell of a lot more sense than staying in DC and proving her bravery. Why did she feel like she had to prove it, anyway? She didn’t. She was ready to leave. Ready to grab her cameras and buy a plane ticket to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Which she was going to do the minute she got inside her apartment. Her parents would be upset, sure, but staying in DC was not an option.