Aced (Blocked #2)

by Jennifer Lane

  “What is it, PQ?”

  My eyes widened as I realized she was the Secretary of State, Paula Quinlen.

  “Bill’s on the line, hoping to discuss the pipeline sabotage,” she said.

  “Good. We need to address that.” Mr. Ramirez tugged the hem of his black jacket to straighten it. “Alejandro, walk with me.”

  Alejandro paused and turned toward me with a question on his face.

  “Maddie too,” the president said, already heading for the door. “I want to get to know her better.”

  Alejandro scooped up my hand, and we scurried behind his father’s entourage. Brad fell into step behind us. We headed outside, over a brick pathway, with a cool breeze wafting through my hair.

  I leaned in to whisper, “Bill is Bill Nichols? The vice president?”

  Alejandro squeezed my hand and nodded like it was no big deal.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE ONLY WAY TO IMPROVE my first visit to the hallowed Oval Office was to view it through Maddie’s perspective. Her lips parted in a wondrous smile as we passed the manicured lawn of the Rose Garden and entered my father’s workspace. The pale yellow wallpaper was reflected in her glimmering eyes as they scanned the smooth, cornerless shape of the room.

  “You two can sit over there,” Dad said, pointing at a grouping of plush sofas and lounge chairs. Maddie grinned at me when I led her over the carpet’s presidential seal to the yellow velvet sofa.

  “What?” I asked as we sat.

  “That seal is surreal,” she whispered, tilting her head over her shoulder. Behind her was my father’s desk, where he spoke into the speakerphone.

  I nodded. The entire Oval Office was unreal.

  She leaned in with a secretive grin. “Back at Highbanks, there’s a seal like that with the university’s crest. It’s at the entrance to the oval.”

  “So you have an oval, too.”

  “More of a quad, really.” She looked at her lap. “If couples kiss on the seal…” Her eyes floated up, and her tongue skated over her lip. “It means they’ll get married.”

  Dios. Her words shot through me like a flaming arrow. The blush of soft pink on her cheeks, the spark of delight in her eyes, the glisten of her wet mouth…I looked to make sure Dad wasn’t watching. He sat on the edge of the desk about ten feet away, his back to us as he continued listening to the vice president. Secretary of State Quinlen stood next to the desk with her arms folded across her chest.

  I leaned closer and folded Maddie’s slender hand between mine. Her palm rested on my upturned left hand, hot to the touch. She inhaled a staccato breath, matching my uneven gulps of air. The tip of her tongue flitted to the corner of her sweet mouth. I glanced at the seal, then into her shining eyes. “If I kiss you on the seal, I promise to marry you, ¿sí?”

  She gasped, and I wondered if I’d come on too strong. But she curled her fingers around mine and brought our conjoined hands to her mouth. Her soft lips and warm breath feathered my skin. With a sultry look from under her eyelashes, she pressed a kiss to my knuckles. A rush of blood drained from my brain.

  “Sealed with a kiss,” she breathed.

  I smoothed my hands up her jaw, plunging my fingers into her textured curls. When she closed her eyes and a sigh of pleasure left her lips, I pulled her into me. I had to have her. My mouth found hers in an urgent kiss—a kiss I’d craved since she’d arrived to the White House.

  She was so soft, so warm. When her lips parted and her tongue brushed mine, I felt a charge up my spine. The kiss deepened as our tongues touched and played, ratcheting up the heat flooding my chest. I felt her fingers sneak over my waistband, and she tugged me closer, my thigh pressing into her long, gorgeous leg. Pressure built inside of me, and I couldn’t get enough of her.

  When I heard the clearing of a throat, my mouth froze on hers. Unsuctioning our lips, I tilted my head to the right, which put me in the direct line of my father’s stare. Mierda. Ms. Quinlen’s widened eyes confirmed they’d been observing us for some time.

  “They’re watching us?” Maddie squeaked. Her eyes were huge.

  I unlatched my hands from her hair and brushed them down my suit jacket. “Sorry,” I said quietly. “Got a little out of control there. You have that effect on me.”

  “Me too. But in the Oval Office? Holy mortification.” Her gaze remained on her hands twisting in her lap.

  “If there’s nothing else, Mr. President, I’ll head out.” Ms. Quinlen said.

  “Let me introduce you to my son before you go.”

  Please, no. Don’t make me look her in the eye.

  “Alejandro?”

  Pony up, Ramirez. I stood and swallowed. “Pleasure to meet you, Secretary of State Quinlen.” I approached the desk with my hand extended.

  “You look so much like your father.” She smiled as she shook my hand. “And this is your girlfriend?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Before I could bring Maddie over, she’d popped off the sofa, and Ms. Quinlen walked over to shake her hand as well.

  “My, you’re tall.” She looked up at my elegant girlfriend.

  I circled the sofa to stand next to Maddie. “She plays volleyball with Lucia.”

  “Ah. That’s how you two met.” The woman’s expression seemed to soften. “Lucia the matchmaker.”

  I stifled my snort.

  “Maddie does more than play volleyball,” Dad said on his way toward the sofa across from us. “She dominates the game.”

  I exhaled. Dad complimenting her was a good sign.

  “She apparently dominates my son’s thoughts as well,” Dad added with a smirk.

  I wanted to crawl under the sofa. How to veer this conversation back on track? “Maddie’s trying out for the national team soon.”

  “Wonderful! Good luck.” Ms. Quinlen nodded at my dad, then left.

  Dad gestured to the sofas. “Let’s have a seat and talk. Or would you like the room to yourselves?”

  Maddie’s giggle betrayed her nervousness. Once we sat across from Dad, he patted his thigh as he studied us, like he was assessing the strength of our bond. Silence stretched between us, and I fiddled with my watch.

  “Everything okay with the pipeline construction?” I asked.

  One eyebrow arched. Was he on to my attempt to redirect the conversation?

  “A few Montana building sites have been vandalized. But we’ll catch the perpetrators. We already have a few leads.”

  Maddie’s back straightened. “The Keystone pipeline’s being vandalized?” I was impressed she knew of the pipeline project.

  “Yes.” Dad nodded. “We think the vandals are environmental vigilantes; they’re angry Congress approved the project.”

  She rubbed her index finger along her lip. “The pipeline’s bad for the environment?”

  My shoulders tensed as I watched the exchange.

  “There are some downsides, yes. Environmentalists are concerned with increased tar sands emissions. But the pipeline’s much more efficient than rail transportation of oil, which reduces pollution. And we’re creating thousands of jobs.”

  “Shouldn’t we focus on alternate energy sources?” asked Maddie.

  Dad leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Nothing excited him like oil. “We are exploring alternate energy. But our technology’s not there yet. Take hybrid cars, for example. They’re not cost-efficient, they require more energy to produce, and their battery disposal can be hazardous.”

  Dad kept talking, but I heard little of his speech. My attention zeroed in on the striking girl next to me. I loved her jaunty curls. The slope of her long neck. Her caramel skin. My lips tingled with the desire to kiss every inch of her.

  My dad’s chuckle interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to find him shaking his head. “What’s funny?” I asked.

  “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like…” His smile faded, and he leaned back. “Never mind.”

  “Is it bad, what yo
u’re seeing?” I felt my heart rate increase. Am I disappointing him?

  “No, not at all,” Dad said. “You’re growing up. I just…I don’t want you to go too fast. You two haven’t had time to get to know each other all that well.” He looked at Maddie. “What does your brother think of you and Alejandro?”

  “My brother?” She shifted on the cushion as she snuck a glance at me. “Well, he’s not a big fan.”

  “And why is that?”

  Maddie took a deep breath. “He believes Republican policies hurt black people.”

  She was brave—I had to give her that.

  “It’s more like progressive policies hurt black people, but that’s a discussion for another day.” Dad leaned forward, and my heart galloped. “What I want to know is, do you agree with your brother?”

  “You’re interrogating her, Dad.” I tried to give her a reassuring look. “You don’t have to answer that.”

  “It’s okay, Alex.” She patted my hand. “He needs to know if he can trust me. My dad’s the same way. He’ll probably ask you even tougher questions when you meet him.”

  ¡Hijole! I hadn’t even thought of that.

  “I love my brother,” Maddie continued. “We don’t always agree, though. Racism still exists, but I don’t look at everything as black or white. I know some wonderful black people, like my grandparents, but there are black people who cheat, steal, even murder—and white people who do the same. There are good and bad people in every group. It’s ridiculous to paint an entire race with a broad brush.”

  Her low, impassioned voice mesmerized me, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Then she grinned. “Black, white, Latino, gay, straight—if any of them came across a bear in the woods, they’d all taste like chicken.”

  I laughed, and my dad’s mouth twitched.

  “I just try to get to know individuals, try to know their hearts,” Maddie said. “Lucia, she has such a loving heart. I’m lucky she came to Highbanks.”

  The curve of Dad’s mouth resembled a smile more and more. Maddie was smart to tap into his soft spot for Lucy.

  “And you’re right, I don’t know Alejandro all that well, but what I’ve seen draws me to him.” She peeked at me. “It scares me a little, how much I miss him when we’re apart.”

  Hail Mary! She felt the same way? “Me, too,” I admitted, and we beamed at each other. I didn’t want to become dependent on her, but I hadn’t figured out a way to keep her out of my mind, out of my heart.

  “The way I see it, our cultural differences don’t hurt us—they help us. They enrich us. For example, I want to learn Spanish. It’s such a beautiful language.” She turned to me. “And I want you to come to my church in Cleveland. It’s where I grew up, and I want to share it with you.”

  I nodded.

  “You see?” She looked at Dad. “Alejandro and I actually have a lot in common. Faith’s important to us. He gets what it’s like to major in pre-med and play a sport. I want to become a doctor, like him. I try not to focus on differences in our skin color, but pay attention to similarities in our character.” Her eyes glowed with conviction. “It’s not what divides us; it’s what unites us.”

  Dad blinked as silence stretched between us. I’d never seen him speechless before. Maddie’s hands fidgeted.

  “I should create a cabinet position for you, Maddie,” he finally said. “Ambassador of Racial Relations.” He grinned. “What do you think, Alejandro?”

  I stretched my arm across her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I think she’s rather busy right now, Dad. She has a lot on her plate. And that was before she added learning Spanish to the mix.”

  Dad spoke to me in Spanish. “You’re falling hard for her, and I can see why.”

  Relief flooded me. It was so important that he understood how special Maddie was.

  “Solo ve con cuidado,” he added. Be careful. When he glanced at my arm across her shoulders, I removed it.

  “Dad, could I talk to you about something?”

  “You can always talk to me.”

  “I tried to call last week, but you were too busy.”

  Dad frowned. “That’s not right. I’ll get on—”

  “It’s okay. We’re talking now.” I paused to gather my thoughts. When I smiled at Maddie, she misunderstood my look as wanting her to leave.

  She scooted forward on the sofa. “I’ll go.”

  “No, please stay. You already know about the situation.” I glanced at the agent standing by the door. “But could Secret Service leave?”

  Concern crossed Dad’s face. “Joe, give us a minute.”

  “I’ll be right outside, sir.”

  The soft click of the door signaled it was time to make my case to my father. “I want to discuss China Halloway.”

  “The agent protecting you.”

  “Sí.” I took a deep breath. “I know this isn’t my call, but I don’t think she should be fired.”

  Dad cocked his head. “Why would she be fired?”

  “Because of the affair. She hasn’t let it interfere—”

  “What affair?”

  I flinched at his sharp tone, and Maddie seemed to tense as well. “The affair between China and Lucy’s agent, Allison.”

  Dad’s only response was a slight widening of the eyes.

  “So you obviously don’t know about this.”

  “No. Tell me everything.” His arms folded across his chest.

  “A Secret Service higher-up—Captain Shandy—came to Baltimore to chastise China for her involvement with Allison. He docked her pay while he investigated whether her behavior had been at all unprofessional. But I told him it wasn’t.”

  Dad glared. “And this captain spoke to Lucia as well?”

  “I suppose.” I shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her about it.”

  His fingers tapped his arm as he frowned. Then he bolted up and hit a button on the phone on his desk.

  “Afternoon, Mr. President,” came through the speakerphone.

  “Danny, I have a problem.”

  I whispered to Maddie, “Daniel Guthrie, Chief of Staff.”

  “My son tells me there’s an investigation into the professionalism of China Halloway—an investigation I know nothing about. Surely that cannot be the case. Tell me he misunderstood something.”

  Mr. Guthrie paused. “There is an investigation, sir. The director’s reviewing the findings as we speak.”

  “How can this be?” Fire blazed in his voice, and I reached for Maddie’s hand the way I used to reach for Lucia’s when we were in trouble. “How have you not informed me about this matter involving my children?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. We didn’t want to bother you with this.”

  “Make it known that anything involving my family is a top priority. I don’t care how busy I am. But you know that already, Danny—how could you let me down like this?”

  After a moment, Mr. Guthrie said, “We thought the press would use this against you, since you’ve spoken out against gay marriage in the past.”

  Dad glowered at the phone, and his voice seemed to tremble with fury. “Do not handle me, Danny.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want you and the director in my office ASAP.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The call ended, and Dad breathed out through his nose. “They’re the ones who should be fired.”

  “I don’t want to cause any trouble,” I said. “I just want to be fair to China.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me.” He circled the desk, and his expression lightened. “This is simply about clarifying expectations. Reagan encountered it in his first days of office, too.” He looked at me pointedly. “Are my expectations of you and your siblings clear?”

  I felt frozen. I was accustomed to him as the leader of the Ramirez family, but leader of the United States was another level entirely. “Yes, sir.”

  A soft knock preceded the entry of Dad’s right-hand man. I stood and guided Maddie to her feet. After a brief i
ntroduction to Mr. Guthrie and a brusque goodbye from Dad, we got out of there. Brad waited for us outside the Oval Office.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I tried to get my bearings as I looked around me. “This entire building is just surreal.”

  “Totally surreal,” Maddie agreed.

  Brad laughed as his large hand cupped my shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. Hey, let me give you the tour, freak you out some more.”

  “Can’t wait!” Maddie curled her fingers around mine, and off we went down the hallway.

  Almost an hour later, we still hadn’t completed our tour. If I’d had a pedometer, it probably would’ve reached nearly eight thousand steps, even without picking up a game of basketball like I’d wanted to do when I saw the sweet court outside.

  Brad gestured to a bedroom on the second floor. “The first lady said this is your room when you visit. The Lincoln Room.”

  “Oh, my God. The Lincoln Room?” Maddie zipped inside. “This is incredible!”

  I smirked at Brad as I followed her in and closed the door behind me. Opulent golds and deep purples framed the windows and canopied bed. “No way I could sleep here.” I scrunched my nose. “Too frou frou.”

  “I’ll sleep here,” she said, and just like that arousal spiked my blood. She lowered onto one of the gold loveseats and gazed up at the massive mirror over the fireplace. “Stunning.”

  “You’re stunning.” She blushed, and I joined her on the small sofa.

  “What you said to my dad about going beneath skin color…” I tapped my thigh, trying to find the right words. “It means a lot to me. There was truth in your words. There was…healing. It seemed to come from a place deep inside of you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I sure babbled in front of your dad.”

  “Not at all. You were quite eloquent.”

  “It’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about, I guess. Dealing with racial differences—all kinds of differences.” She frowned. “Disconnection. Shame. I’ve discussed it with Dr. Valentine. She had me watch this talk online about the power of vulnerability. We shy away from being real because we’re ashamed. We don’t feel good enough. It made me realize how bad I am at being vulnerable. I try to be perfect, but I keep failing.”