THE PRESIDENT'S GIRLFRIEND

by Monroe, Mallory

  “What’s this?” Gina asked him as they entered the large room. “The infamous Lincoln bedroom?”

  “No, it’s my bedroom,” Dutch said, closing the door. “At least while I occupy this residence.” He sat on the bed, removing his shoes.

  “So that bedroom I slept in before, the one I thought was yours, wasn’t?” She asked this as she walked leisurely around the room, running her hand along the furniture as she walked. She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear what he had to say.

  Dutch considered her. Christian had told him how much the fact that she had not slept in his bed had hurt her. “No,” he said, unloosening his tie. “It wasn’t.” Then he added: “No woman has ever slept in this room with me.”

  Gina leaned against the dresser, folding her arms. “Not even Kate Marris,” she said.

  Dutch hesitated, surprised that she even knew about his ex. “How would you know about that?” he asked her.

  “Google, my brother,” Gina said.

  Dutch snorted. “I hope Google also told you that we’re no longer together. But yes, not even her.” After he removed his tie, his arms kind of fell down to his lap in an exhaustive flap-down, and his body leaned slightly forward.

  “Whoa,” Gina said, hurrying to his side. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay,” he said, nodding. Gina sat beside him, her hand on his strong shoulder that was now slumped. He smiled at her, but the tiredness in his eyes told a different story.

  “You work too hard,” she said. “And then to have to take me to dinner when we could have just as easily stayed here and let me cook you a meal.”

  Dutch couldn’t help it. He didn’t have the energy for laughing, but he laughed anyway.

  “Why you laughing?” Gina asked, trying to conceal her own smile.

  “The idea of eating another one of those meals of yours,” Dutch said, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, honey, but that’s laughable.”

  Gina grabbed one of his pillows off of his bed and clobbered him with it. “That is so not funny,” she said, as he fell back on the bed laughing.

  He looked so gorgeous to her at that very moment, with his silky black hair all tousled and dropped down into his gorgeous face, that she found herself staring at him.

  His laughter died when he realized she was looking at him so lovingly. He’d seen it before, many times before, from various females that had come and gone in his life. But with them, when they gave him that he’ll do nicely look, he felt burdened. With Gina, he felt honored.

  He took her by the arm and pulled her down beside him, laying her head on his chest. He closed his eyes. There was no human being on earth he would rather be with than Gina, and the thought of it, that his feelings for her were intensifying, gave him some pause. When he lost his fiancée in that plane crash, and his father, he found love to be a disagreeable, unreliable nuisance that caught you at your highest peak and lowered you to your lowest depths. Love, to him, became too risky and he had vowed to never bother with it again. Not all-out the way he had loved Caroline, the way he had loved his father.

  And now Gina comes along. Young, vibrant, smart and wonderful. Everything he wanted and, if truth be told, needed. And he cared about her in a way that was beginning to disturb him. He had so much going on, too much already, and to fall in love right smack in the middle of his presidency, when Republicans were doing all they could to tear that presidency down and Democrats were sitting on their lazy rears doing nothing to prop it up, would be insanity.

  And the idea of putting Gina through this, he thought, as he began rubbing her soft, braided hair. He wasn’t at all sure if she could handle this. He kissed her forehead, prompting her to look those big brown eyes he loved, absolutely adored, up to him. And just by that look in those eyes, he knew she, too, had been wondering down the same road.

  Only she hesitated before talking, as if she was unsure if she should go there, but she went there anyway. “I could fall in love with you,” she admitted, her hand resting on his flat, ribbed-lined stomach. “You know that, right?”

  Dutch continued to rub her hair, continued to look into her eyes. “Yes,” he said.

  She hesitated again, unsure what to make of his one-word answer. “Do you recommend it?” she asked and waited for his response.

  Dutch pulled her closer against him. “It’s going to be tough, Regina,” he said, and then looked down at her. “And I’m not sure if you understand just how tough.” Then he tightened his jaw and stiffened his resolve. He couldn’t be selfish with her, not as his feelings for her were beginning to intensify to a point he knew could quickly lead to no return. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said.

  Gina’s heart dropped, and she lay her head back down on his chest. She understood why he wouldn’t recommend it. She understood that he dreaded getting her caught up in that fishbowl life he talked about. But what he didn’t understand was that turning back now for her just might not be an option. It would be like un-breaking a heart. She would eventually fall out of love with him, yes, but the damage would have already been done.

  She closed her eyes, refused to think about that now. “Why is it called Mirth?” she asked him.

  At first Dutch was thrown. What, he wanted to say. Then he decided some things, some thoughts, were better left unsaid. He moved on, too. “Mirth means whimsical, happy, cheerful. It doesn’t take itself seriously. It’s everything Washington is not. That’s why it’s my favorite restaurant in DC. When I was a lowly bachelor US Senator, I ate many meals there.”

  “And now you’re a lowly bachelor president,” Gina said, “and still eating meals there.”

  Dutch didn’t smile the way Gina thought he would. He, instead, closed his eyes too. “Yes,” he said, pulling her closer still. “But not for long,” he added.

  For him to say that, the man who wouldn’t even recommend she fall in love with him, confused more than elated Gina. And she decided that he was as terrified of their relationship as she was, and they both therefore needed to just chill.

  She closed her eyes, he kept his closed, and they chilled.

  +++

  Early the next morning, Christian made his way inside the residence to awaken Gina and whisk her away before the press office cranked up. But when he opened the bedroom door, and saw the bed not only empty, but completely undisturbed, he panicked. And hurried to the president’s bedroom.

  When he opened the door, ever so slowly in case he was still asleep, he was pleasantly surprised to see Gina asleep in the president’s arms. And the president held her so protectively, Christian thought, his arms encircling her, her obviously naked body pinned tightly against his. And it was an amazing sight to see. In all of Christian’s time in service at the White House, in all the times he had ushered so many different women in and out, he had never arrived to find one of them in the president’s own bed. Not ever.

  Until now, he thought with a satisfied smile, as he backed back out, and closed the door.

  +++

  Max Brennan sat on the sofa in the residence and tried his best to get Dutch to listen to reason. But Dutch, who sat in the chair flanking the sofa, had heard it all already.

  “But we don’t need this fight, Dutch,” Max insisted. “Vetoing an appropriations bill when we’re trying to get our health care law through is ridiculous. You know how Washington works. It’ll be weeks of partisan bickering before we can get anything done.”

  “That bill was loaded with pork and you know it, and devastating for poor people who rely on social programs. I’ll sign it, when they clean that shit up.”

  Dutch stood to his feet, causing Max to stand, too. “You’ve got to trust me on this one, Max. If I buckle and allow myself to become like them, then the American people are going to start asking themselves why did they vote for me if I’m no different than the other guy.”

  Max put both hands in the pockets of his wrinkled suit. “Okay, I trust your political instincts. They’ve served us well in the past. Bu
t. . .” He was looking toward the corridor that led to the bedrooms. Dutch looked too and saw Gina standing there.

  “I didn’t realize you had company,” she said, looking more at Max, who seemed mortified, than Dutch.

  “Come on in,” Dutch said, glancing at Max too.

  Gina was dressed, in an airy summer print dress with matching slip-on sandals, and had one of those big, Fall hats in her hands. She had expected to be taken to a hotel late last night, only to end up in bed with Dutch and awaken to find her luggage in his room. Dutch was casually dressed, in a pair of Khaki pants, a pullover knit shirt, and desert boots, and Gina smiled when he took her by the hand.

  “Max, you remember Gina, don’t you?”

  Max had the look of a man who couldn’t believe his bad luck. He stared at Gina. “Gina?” he said.

  “Yes,” Dutch said. “Regina Lansing. She was one of the recipients of the Mountain Movers award.”

  “I know what she received,” Max said. “And I also know what she dished out. Especially the part about how disappointed she was in your administration. Which begs the question: what the hell is she doing here?”

  Dutch and Max grew up together, as their fathers were best friends, and Dutch allowed his friend a lot of liberties with him. But he was coming very close to crossing the line. “She spent the night with me,” Dutch said, as if daring his friend to object. “That’s what she’s doing here.”

  Max was still astounded by this revelation, but knew not to pursue it. Dutch moved on too, placing his hands on Gina’s shoulders and turning her towards him. “I’ve got some meetings this morning,” he said.

  “Even on a Saturday?”

  “Even on Saturdays, yes. But I should wrap up around two. Christian will be here shortly to take you around, show you the town, all right?”

  Gina felt a little flustered, as if she’d ceded control to someone else, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. Dutch saw her apprehension.

  “It’s all right,” he said. Then he reached into his pants pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed her a credit card. “Here’s my card,” he said. “Go shopping, go to the spa, pamper yourself a little. Chris will have you back here just in time for me to take you to the Wizards game. You do like basketball, don’t you?”

  Gina stared at the card and then up at Dutch. “Yes,” Gina said, “but. . . ”

  “But what?”

  “This is a credit card with your name on it.”

  “So?”

  “So you’re the President of the United States. I can’t walk into some store somewhere and expect them to let me use your card. They’ll have me under the jail!”

  Dutch laughed. “I guess you have a point. Max, give me one of your cards.”

  “No!” Gina said. No way was she taking any card of his, she wanted to add. “I can pay my own way.”

  “Sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Dutch nodded. “Okay.” Kissed her on her forehead. “I’d better run. See you this afternoon,” he said as he began to leave, with Max following behind him. “Chris is on his way,” he added, glancing back as he walked. He loved the way that bright, floral print brought out the beauty of her smooth black skin. Just lovely, he thought to himself as he left.

  Gina took a seat on the sofa and tried to feel as good as Dutch seemed to think she looked. But she kept feeling as if things were moving too fast for her. In fact, it wasn’t until Dutch and Max had left did she realize that she still had his card in her hand.

  +++

  LaLa, Demps, and Frank sat at their usual table in Cribb’s playing cards and drinking beer. It was their usual Saturday afternoon get together and Frank was disappointed to see that one of their foursome, specifically Gina, wasn’t there.

  “Where is she?” he asked LaLa when he returned from the bar with his glass of beer and sat across from her and Demps.

  “There,” LaLa said, pointing to the TV nearest them, the TV that was turned to the NBA network telecasting the Wizards game.

  Frank looked at the TV. “Where?” he asked. “At that Washington Wizards game?”

  “Yup. I called her but she couldn’t talk, said she was on her way to the game.”

  Frank looked disturbed. “I didn’t know she was in DC,” he said.

  LaLa and Dempsey exchanged a glance. “Yeah, she got there Friday night.”

  “On business?”

  “You can say that, yes,” LaLa said.

  “The President is in the house,” one of the three TV commentators said and both LaLa and Dempsey, knowing that Gina had gone to DC on the president’s invitation and would most likely be attending the Wizards game with him, immediately looked up at the TV. Frank, completely in the dark, followed their suddenly interested eyes and looked up, too.

  “President Harber is in the house,” the commentator continued as the camera searched the crowd. “Ah, there he is, making his way to his usual seat on the front row.”

  And sure enough, LaLa, Dempsey and an astonished Frank looked on as the cameras captured Dutch, his hand on the small of Gina’s back, as they were escorted to front row seats.

  “Who’s that lady with the president?” another one of the commentators wanted to know.

  “Pretty lady,” the first one commented. “Well-endowed,” he joked.

  “She’s a new one,” still the third one said. ‘”Who’s that lady?”

  “Gina?” Frank said, not in answering their question, but in questioning his own, astounded eyes.

  ELEVEN

  The door to Max’s West Wing office flew open and Allison Shearer, the president’s press secretary, hurried in, slammed the door shut, and then walked up to the desk and slung a newspaper onto it. Max, who was on the phone, told the party he’d call them back, and hung up.

  “What’s this?” he asked. Then picked up the paper.

  “You see that headline?” Allison asked. ‘”Who’s that Lady,’” it says. And there’s a picture of the president with some . . . person.” Allison frowned. “According to that article, she’s the woman who told him off at that awards ceremony.”

  Max was still reading the article. “One in the same.” Then he tossed the paper aside. “This is crap. A slow news day. Don’t worry about it.”

  Allison picked up the paper again. “She wore an off the rack, excruciatingly loud print dress, flip flops, and a big flop hat.”

  “She did not wear flip flops.”

  “You get their point.” Then Allison kept reading. “’She’s a big-busted lady with more than her share of curves.’”

  Max grinned. “They said that?”

  “This can get ugly fast, Max,” Allison said. “I fail to see the humor.”

  The door was opened and yet another aide entered carrying a newspaper. She, too, tossed it onto Max’s desk. “Did you guys see this?” she asked.

  Allison grabbed it and read the headline aloud.: “’President attends Wizards’ game with woman who gave him the finger.’” She put the paper back on Max’s desk. “How nice,” she said sarcastically. “Such lovely people to write such beautiful words.”

  “There’s more,” the aide said. “All over the internet they’re joking that the president has found himself a HipHop Queen, and that there’s a hood rat in the White House. And then there’s another headline: ‘The President and his Lady. A Step down from Kate?’”

  “It never fails,” Allison said. “Every time he dates a new woman they dredge up Kate Marris.

  Max’s door flew open again and this time Christian entered. “No newspaper,” Max asked him. “You’re slipping, Chris.”

  Christian stood before Max’s desk, but couldn’t seem to want to begin. They all stared at him. “What?” Max asked impatiently.

  Christian swallowed hard. “Director Munford’s office says he’s on his way to see you, sir.”

  “What about?”

  Christian glanced at Allison.

  “It’s about the lady, isn’t it?” Allison asked. “
It’s about this Regina Lansing?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Christian said.

  “Well what is it, man?” Max asked. “Spit it out!”

  “She’s been arrested before,” Christian said quickly, and Max, fit to be tied, fell back in his chair.

  +++

  Dutch’s penis slid in and out of Gina with the ease of a man who knew that tunnel so well. He loved the feel and tightness of her, he loved the way she was always so wet and juicy. And his movements quickened when she moaned. He pulled her closer against him as he began to pound her. And just when he released, just when he spilled into her with a push out that caused him a shutter-like spasm, the phone rang.