True Colors

by Yolanda Wallace

  Taylor lay on her back. Robby straddled her. Taylor stretched her neck for a kiss, but Robby pushed her back down on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” Taylor asked, sliding her hands up Robby’s thighs.

  “Nothing. I just want to look at you.” Taylor’s body was incredible. Toned arms, pert breasts, and the hint of a six-pack in her flat stomach. Robby wanted to lick every inch. To grind against her. To move with her. Inside her. “You are so fucking sexy.”

  She pressed her mouth to Taylor’s in a bruising kiss. Taylor grasped her camisole and tugged, pulling it over her head. Gently, as soft as a whisper, Taylor trailed her fingers along her spine.

  Robby arched her back, simultaneously running from and moving toward the sensation. She grabbed Taylor’s hands and placed them on her breasts. “Touch me.”

  She cried out when Taylor’s thumbs grazed her nipples. She did it again when Taylor’s mouth closed around her breast, her tongue alternately licking and flicking at the tumescent tissue. Taylor reached inside Robby’s skirt and cupped her mound. Robby rubbed herself against Taylor’s palm, amazed by how quickly she had reached the precipice. She was going to come. And soon.

  Then Steven pounded on the door.

  Taylor trapped Robby’s engorged clit between two fingers. “Ignore him.”

  Robby held Taylor’s hand in both of hers, preventing her escape. “Ignore who?”

  The pounding came again. Louder this time. “Ma’am?”

  Taylor groaned in frustration as she retrieved her hand. “This had better be good.” She gathered their clothes. After she and Robby quickly dressed, she strode to the door and opened it. “Yes?”

  Steven glanced toward Robby, cleared his throat, and looked away. “I wouldn’t disturb you unless it was an emergency.”

  “So what’s the emergency?” Taylor’s body language changed from relaxed to apprehensive. “Has there been an attempt?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Steven lowered his voice. Robby strained to hear him. “I programmed my cell phone to alert me when P.H. posted another item.” He held up his phone. “This blog’s fresh off the presses. Our unsub used a different IP address than the others, but we’ve already got a lead on it. If we mobilize now, we can catch him in the act.”

  “Sweet.” Taylor grabbed her coat. “Robby, I—”

  “Have to go.” Robby folded her arms across her chest. “That’s becoming a common theme with you, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry.” Taylor gave Robby a quick kiss that was a far cry from the ones they had shared only seconds before. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  “You’d better.” After Taylor and Steven left, Robby picked up her own cell phone and hit speed dial. “Jesus, Miles, that’s what I call cutting it close.”

  “Don’t yell at me. You’re lucky I agreed to do it at all.”

  Before she left work that afternoon, she had given him the user ID and password for her blog and asked him to post her latest entry at a predetermined time. He was fifteen minutes late. Another couple of minutes and she might have done something she—Regretted? Hardly. Why would she ever regret sleeping with someone as hot as Taylor? And she had wanted to sleep with her. More than she ever had with anyone else. Even now, she was wondering when she would see Taylor again. Wondering when they could do what they had ostensibly come here to do—finish what they had started.

  “I know, I know,” she said, combing her tangled hair with her fingers. “I had to make sure she doesn’t suspect me. If the post hits while she’s with me, then there’s no way I could have uploaded it.”

  “I hope you accomplished your mission because this was the first and last time I plan to do anything like this. I’m not cut out for all this underhandedness. My hands are still shaking. And not from all the caffeine I took in while I was waiting for a computer terminal to become available.”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Miles. Really.” She reached down and scratched Orson between his ears. He purred and leaned against her leg, wrapping his tail around her ankle as he enjoyed the attention. “Which coffeehouse did you use?”

  “Joe’s Java Joint on M Street.”

  “Are you still there?”

  “I’m leaving right now.”

  “Good. Because your boyfriend’s on the way.”

  “Steven? Maybe I’ll stay to see if he needs to give me a cavity search or something.”

  “Miles—”

  “I’m kidding. God, where’s your sense of humor?”

  “Sorry, but the thought of Taylor discovering I’m the person behind The pH Factor before I find a way to break the news to her myself doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies.”

  “Maybe you should lay low for a while,” Miles said. “Or, better yet, pull the plug altogether.”

  “I can’t do that. I’ve got to strike while the iron’s hot. If I stop now, I’ll lose my advantage.”

  And if she didn’t stop, she could lose Taylor.

  * * *

  Taylor pulled up The pH Factor on her phone while her driver sped toward M Street. Whoever the blogger was, he worked fast. The Wizards game had ended less than half an hour ago and he had already submitted a post about her attending with an unidentified woman by her side.

  “I can’t go anywhere or do anything without it turning up on the Internet five minutes later. It’s like this guy knows what I’m going to do even before I do.”

  “Those are the times in which we live, ma’am,” Steven said. He braced himself as the car jerked to a stop. “We’re here.”

  Steven was the primary Secret Service agent on Taylor’s detail. Ethan Moss and three others provided backup as needed. Like tonight. When they pulled up to Joe’s Java Joint, Ethan was standing in front of the coffeehouse. Even though he was dressed in the sweatshirt and jeans he had worn to the basketball game instead of his usual black or navy blue suit, he stood out from the rest of the hipsters, yuppies, and tourists milling around on the busy sidewalk. His pristine crew cut and vigilant stance screamed law enforcement. If possible, he was even more by the book than Steven, his former squad leader. His eyes, an arresting shade of gray, burned with such intensity Taylor was often tempted to shield her own from the glare.

  Steven lowered the rear window as Ethan approached the SUV. “Anything?”

  Ethan shook his head. “The unsub had already vacated the premises by the time we arrived.” His deep voice radiated authority.

  “Were the employees able to tell you anything?”

  Ethan shook his head again. “It’s a busy night. At this point, they’re lucky to remember their own names. Asking them to recall faces is a lost cause.”

  “What about camera coverage?”

  “There are security cameras covering the entrance and the registers, but none are pointed toward the common computers. You couldn’t get away with holding up the joint, but you could rob everyone else blind electronically.”

  “Sorry to send you over here for nothing, but thanks for the help.”

  Ethan reached inside the car and slapped Steven on the shoulder. “Not a problem. I just wish I could have done more.” He looked over at Taylor. “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll catch this guy sooner or later.”

  “Thank you, Agent Moss.”

  “Have a good evening.” He tapped two fingers against his forehead in an informal salute.

  Steven returned the greeting before closing the window. “Where to?” he asked as the SUV slowly pulled away from the curb. “Back to Miss Rawlins’s apartment?”

  Taylor wanted to pick up where she and Robby left off, but the moment—for the time being—had passed. “Take me home. I’ll call Robby when we get there.”

  As expected, her very public display of affection with Robby didn’t sit well with her parents. Her father asked to see her as soon as she cleared security. When she walked into his office, she found him working on the revisions of his first weekly radio address. After he recorded it, he, her mother, and select members of their
respective staffs would fly to Camp David for the weekend. When he returned, he was expected to formally announce his official nominee to fill the vacancy left on the Supreme Court by the sudden death of a conservative judge the year before. The spot had been a bone of contention for months. The Republicans in Congress had refused to grant the Democratic nominee a hearing because the selection was made in the final year of the then-president’s term. Now the Democrats longed to return the favor, but they were outnumbered. They could make the hearings contentious, but they couldn’t block the nomination. Taylor hoped her father wouldn’t select someone who leaned too far right. If so, the results could be disastrous, all the progress that had been made in the fight for gay rights over the past few years wiped out in a matter of months.

  “You wanted to see me?” she said, lingering in the half-open door.

  “Come in.” Her father waved her forward as he removed his glasses and sat back in his chair.

  “What’s up?”

  “I thought we had a deal. You can see whoever you want and your mother and I won’t make an issue of it as long as you don’t make a spectacle of yourself.”

  “I remember the terms of our agreement, and I’ve done everything in my power to abide by them.”

  “Then how do you explain that?” He pointed to a picture of her and Robby at the Wizards game. The photo was a screen grab from the kiss cam, capturing the moment when she had chosen to lock lips with Robby instead of Steven.

  Taylor shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She was used to her father calling her on the carpet over one alleged transgression or another, but this was the first time it had ever happened in the Oval Office. “I call that being true to myself.”

  Her father pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to stem off the effects of a headache. The men who had preceded him in this office had all aged prematurely. He had only been in power for a week and Taylor could already see the pressure of the position beginning to wear on him. If he looked this drawn at the beginning of his term, what would he look like at the end?

  “Honey, your life isn’t your own anymore,” he said with a weary sigh. “When are you going to realize that?”

  “I didn’t run for office, Dad. You did.” She sat in one of the two chairs angled toward her father’s desk. “I’m sorry if I’m not living up to the false image you’re trying to portray, but I’m not the cute little girl who danced the Missouri Waltz with you when she was five. I’m a grown woman who prefers the company of other women, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise so you can earn brownie points with your constituents.”

  “I’m not asking you to pretend. I’m asking you to be discreet. Kissing someone you barely know during a nationally televised event isn’t what I would call discreet. Tone it down, Taylor.”

  “Or?”

  “My fellow party members might start questioning where my true loyalties lie.”

  Her father’s words felt like a slap to the face. Tears sprang to Taylor’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You always used to say family came before politics. Thanks for letting me know where I stand.” She pushed herself out of her seat. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll try not to make any more headlines while you’re gone.”

  She barely resisted slamming the door behind her. It would have felt good in the moment—great, in fact—but it wouldn’t have advanced her cause. If she wanted her parents to treat her like an adult, she needed to act like one. Throwing a tantrum wasn’t the way to go about it.

  “If he insists on making me play by the rules,” she said after she reached the safety of her room, “the least I can do is make the rules work for me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Robby stared at the phone, willing it to ring. She didn’t expect Taylor to pay her a return visit after she and Steven completed their wild goose chase, but she did expect her to try to smooth over any ruffled feathers caused by her abrupt departure.

  “Right on cue,” Robby said when her phone finally rang. She allowed the ringtone to reach almost the end of its bouncy chorus before she plucked the phone off the ottoman and pressed the icon to accept incoming calls. “Do you have time for me now, or are you going to run out on me again?”

  “I deserve that. And more. I’m sorry about bailing on you tonight.”

  “And Wednesday?”

  “And Wednesday.”

  Robby leaned forward in her seat. Enough guilt. It was time to find out what Taylor knew. If anything. “Did you catch the ‘unknown subject’ you were looking for?”

  “No, we missed him.”

  “How do you know it’s a him?”

  “I don’t for sure, but I don’t know many women who would call themselves—” Taylor didn’t finish.

  “Call themselves what?” Had Taylor found a clue she could use to trace the blog back to her?

  “It’s not important.”

  “Okay.” Robby waited for her heart rate to slow. “Tell me something. Has the blogger you’re so desperate to find written anything that isn’t true?”

  “No, but this person—whoever he—or she—is, is ruining people’s lives.”

  “By exposing their duplicity? The people to whom you’re referring are doing a fine job of ruining their own lives. The blogger is exposing what some would prefer to remain hidden, but that doesn’t make what he’s writing any less true. And if politicians are lying about who they are while they accept hefty ‘donations’ from lobbyists to pass heinous bills, I want to know who they are, don’t you?”

  “You have a point.” The concession seemed to come at a steep price because Taylor was quiet for a long moment. “I guess I’m just not used to having my privacy invaded.”

  “It’s not invasion of privacy if you’re in a public place.”

  “You’re starting to sound like a lawyer. Have you been moonlighting at my brother’s firm?”

  “Not hardly.” She was just doing what she needed to do to cover her ass. “If your unsub is a woman, I may know who she is.”

  “Who?”

  “Sheridan.”

  “I initially suspected her, too, but I ruled her out.”

  “Why?”

  “For her, the risk would be greater than the reward. Her family’s money is so old it’s probably made of papyrus. Why would she gossip about the people her relatives helped put in power?”

  “Because she can.”

  Robby waited for Taylor to assemble the puzzle pieces she had placed in front of her. She needed to throw Taylor off her scent. The more time Taylor and her people spent digging into Sheridan’s life, the less likely they would be to investigate hers.

  “Sheridan did see the two of us leave the ball room together Tuesday night,” Taylor said, thinking out loud. “She knew about our side trip to the supply closet, too. But since she knows you, why would she refer to you as ‘an unidentified woman’ when she wrote about us being at the game tonight?”

  “Name recognition is everything in this town. I don’t have any, and she has plenty. Maybe she’s right.”

  “About what?”

  “She’s everything I’m not. She would make a better match for you than I would. You’re a public figure. You’d be better off paired with someone like her instead of a nobody like me.”

  She waited for Taylor to agree with her. If their positions were reversed, Lord knows she would.

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  “You’re an even better politician than your father.”

  “I doubt that.” Taylor shook off the apparently unwanted comparison by quickly changing the subject. “I want to see you again.”

  Robby tried not to let the smile on her face creep into her voice. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. Maybe we can spend some time exploring one of the many national treasures this town has to offer.”

  “Do you have one in mind?”

  “I’m sitting in it.”

  Robby nearly dropped her phone. “The White House? You want me
to hang out with you at the White House?”

  “You’ve had me over to your place twice. I think it’s time I returned the favor, don’t you?”

  “What will your parents say?” She didn’t relish the idea of choking down dinner while Tina Crenshaw shot daggers at her with her eyes like she had during the inaugural ball.

  “They’ll be out of town. We’ll have the place to ourselves. Relatively speaking, of course. Some of the staff will still be here, but I’m sure they’ll give us a wide berth. See you tomorrow night at seven?”

  “Let’s make it eight. The shop doesn’t close until six. I’ll need more than an hour to get ready.” And she would need even longer to talk her way out of skipping yet another shift at Virginia’s. If she kept this up, she’d be out the door instead of behind the bar.

  “See you then.”

  After she and Taylor ended their call, Robby reached down and scratched Orson under his chin.

  “I’m in. Did you hear what I said, my little pussy hound?” Orson tilted his head up, then rolled over and exposed his belly in a sign of trust. Robby ran her fingers through his thick, dark fur. “I’m in.”

  * * *

  On Saturday morning, Taylor roamed the empty hallways of the White House. She felt more than a little like Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. She didn’t have the huge mansion entirely to herself, however. The employees in charge of the areas open to the public were on hand to supervise visitors on self-guided tours. When she was in junior high school, Taylor had been one of those wide-eyed visitors. Now her father was being paid to live there, and she was getting to go along for the ride. Unreal.

  She headed to the kitchen to plan the menu for tonight’s meal. Instead of the juicy ribs drenched in Kansas City-style barbecue sauce she craved, she opted for something a lot less messy: Caesar salad, roasted chicken, and poached peaches. Something light, something hearty, and something sexy. Just like Robby.

  Robby. God, just saying her name made Taylor smile. She couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wanting her. When was the last time she had felt this way about someone? Months? Years? Yes, it had been a little over three years since she had allowed herself to feel anything for someone. Since she had ignored the specter of her parents’ disapproval and given her heart to someone without fearing it would end up broken.