Officemate

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Isabel

  When Friday rolled around, I could barely control my emotions. I was experiencing a dizzying flurry of both excitement and nervousness about going to the wedding. Okay, so it wasn’t just about going to the wedding. It was about going to a wedding at the White House. I mean, I was just Isabel Flannery from Podunk, Georgia, i.e. a nobody trying to appear to be somebody.

  I don’t know how I managed to get any work done. I was taking a half day off to fly to D.C., and although Thorn had invited me to accompany him for a party Thursday night, I had too much to take care of before blowing town for the weekend. I hated telling him no, especially when a defeated expression came over his face. I wasn’t sure why it seemed to matter to him so much. It wasn’t like I was bailing on going to the wedding with him.

  Since he knew I was a bundle of nerves, he offered to fly up on the jet to pick me up, which was incredibly kind. Oh yeah, did I mention we were taking the corporate jet? I’d never jetted anywhere before. Talk about feeling like country come to town.

  A hop, skip, and a jet ride from New York City later found me nursing a glass of wine in one of the guest bedrooms with Conan for companionship. After we’d flown in, Thorn had to go straight to the rehearsal while I had hung back in my room to get ready for the formal dinner that would follow the rehearsal.

  After showering and doing my hair and makeup, I slipped into my dress and waited anxiously for Thorn to come get me. As I stared at my reflection in the antique mirror, I had to admit I looked pretty. I had chosen a navy-blue cocktail dress that fell just below my knees. Although the straps were wide, it did show a little more cleavage than I’d have preferred to display at the White House. I didn’t want to offend anyone or come off looking slutty.

  When a knock sounded on the door, I almost jumped out of my skin. “Wish me luck, Conan,” I said. He gave a thump of his tail in approval.

  I couldn’t hide my surprise when Ty stood outside rather than Thorn. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Thorn’s been held up with some last-minute best man details. He asked me to escort you to dinner.”

  I smiled. “That would be great. Thank you.”

  Like the true British gentleman he was, Ty offered me his arm. As we swept down the hallway of the Center Hall, I turned to Ty.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “How did you manage the first time you came here?”

  “Do you mean was I overwhelmed?”

  “Yes.”

  Ty nodded. “Sure I was. How can you not be overwhelmed by the significance of being in the White House? Especially when you’re someone like me—a poor kid from across the pond.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel, except I’m a poor kid from the backwoods.”

  “In the end, it’s important to remember that so many of the people who lived here or walked these hallways were immigrants, many of whom came from humble beginnings. The White House speaks to the American dream of carving out a better life.”

  “Such a beautiful sentiment. I had no idea you were so deep.”

  Ty grinned. “I have my moments.”

  “You know, it’s easy to see why both Thorn and Barrett put so much faith in you.”

  His brows rose in surprise. “It is?”

  “Yes. It isn’t every day you find someone willing to take a bullet for you, least of all have that person be your friend.”

  “Thank you, Isabel.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He winked at me as we started down the stairs. “We’re almost there, so don’t be nervous.”

  “Does it show?”

  “The fact that you’re shaking is a pretty good giveaway.”

  I exhaled a frustrated breath. “I want to be cool, calm, and collected. I negotiate billion-dollar deals, for Christ’s sake. I shouldn’t be intimidated by dinner in the White House.”

  “You’ll do just fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Just stick with Thorn. He can show you the ropes.”

  “Trust me, I want to stick to him like a sweaty shirt, but at the same time, I don’t want to be in the way. After all, tonight is about him and his family, which makes me sort of an interloper.”

  “Stick to him like a sweaty shirt?” Ty questioned.

  With a laugh, I replied, “Sorry, it’s a Southern expression.”

  “Ah, I see.” As we reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused. “If there’s one thing I know about the Callahan family, it’s that no one is an interloper. They go out of their way to make everyone feel welcome. I know they’ll do the same for you.”

  “I hope so.”

  He grinned. “I have a feeling any attractive, single friend of Thorn’s will be very, very welcome.”

  When I got his meaning, I almost stumbled in my fancy new heels. Did Thorn’s family think we were more than just friends? Had he led them to believe that? “I can’t imagine them not being nice to any of Thorn’s friends.”

  At my emphasis of friends, Ty tilted his head at me, eyeing me curiously. I fully expected him to go off on me in true Mila fashion about my epic denial. Instead, he remained silent, which was almost worse than him laying his truth on me.

  “There you are,” Thorn said, his voice echoing through the hallway.

  Ty led me to him. “Here she is.”

  Thorn grinned. “Thanks for delivering her to me.”

  Ty smiled in return. “Any time.” He gave us one last knowing look before walking off toward the State Dining Room.

  When I looked at Thorn, he was gazing intently at me. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

  A rush of warmth cascaded over my body at both his compliment and the way he was looking at me. “Thank you. I do manage to clean up nicely from time to time.”

  “Yes, you do.” He held his arm out to me just as Ty had. “Ready to eat?”

  “I’m both starving and ready to puke,” I mused.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Thorn urged.

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Everything is going to be just fine.” He leaned in closer to me. “Take a deep breath.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I didn’t peg you as one for New-Agey stuff like breathing techniques and meditation.”

  “It’s more like common sense than it is any New-Agey stuff.”

  Since I knew Thorn wasn’t going to let it go, I sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly.

  “Again,” he commanded. I followed his instructions three more times. When I finished, he cocked his brows at me. “Better?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Just remember to keep breathing.”

  Following Thorn’s instructions, I began to regulate my inhalations and exhalations as best I could. As we arrived at the doorway, I drew in one last breath and exhaled it super slowly.

  “Ready?” Thorn asked.

  “Yep. Let’s get this show on the road,” I replied, sounding a lot surer of myself than I felt.

  Once we were inside and I found my seat, which was thankfully next to Thorn, I found my nerves slowly dissipating. By the time the second course was served, I was actually enjoying myself. Ty had been right about Thorn’s family—they went out of their way to engage me in the conversation, and in turn, to make me feel welcome.

  It was almost love at first sight with Barrett’s fiancée, Addison, or at least love at first theater mention. Barrett and Thorn just rolled their eyes at the two of us, along with Addison’s brother, Evan, as we went on and on about our love of Broadway.

  As the third course plates were being cleared, Thorn leaned closer to me. As his breath warmed my cheek, he asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

  A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine at his invitation. “But they haven’t served dessert yet,” I protested.

  “You’re choosing cake over busting out of this snoozefest?”

  I laughed. “No, i
t’s not that. I just thought it would be poor form if we left before dessert.”

  Thorn’s brows shot up. “I never took you as an Emily Post devotee.”

  “I’m from the South—we live and die by manners.”

  “I see.” Thorn glanced around. “Do you really think anyone will notice if we bail?”

  “You are the best man and the president’s son.”

  “It’s just the rehearsal dinner. It’s not like I’m advocating we bust out early from the ceremony.”

  I laughed. “Fine. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Before I could rise out of my seat, Thorn pulled out my chair for me. “Such a gentleman,” I mused.

  “Part of one of the etiquette classes I took during school.”

  “You actually had a manners class?” I asked as I stood up.

  Thorn nodded. “Yes. They taught us how to eat and drink correctly as well as how to waltz.”

  “Wow, you really are a triple threat when it comes to money, good looks, and dancing.”

  With a chuckle, Thorn replied, “You might reconsider that statement after you see me dance tomorrow.”

  “I can’t imagine there’s anything you don’t excel at.”

  “Trust me, there are a lot of things, and dancing is one of them.” As we exited the dining room, Thorn pointed to the hallway. “This floor is known as the State Floor because it’s where all the formal shit takes place.”

  I laughed. “Somehow I can’t see that line coming from a guidebook.”

  “Maybe an edition of White House for Dummies.”

  “True.” I glanced at the lofty ceilings. They had to be close to twenty feet high, and it was a bit overwhelming.

  “This floor also connects the East and West Wings.”

  When we started down the corridor, I glanced back to see Ty wasn’t behind us. “Ty won’t be joining us?”

  Thorn smiled. “No. He doesn’t have to trail my ass as stringently while we’re inside the White House.” He nodded to one of the agents posted in the hallway. “These guys take care of that.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Motioning to a staircase, Thorn asked, “How about we start at the bottom and make our way back up?”

  “Sounds good to me.” As we started down the marble stairs, I turned to smile at Thorn. “It’s really nice of you to take me on a tour.”

  He flashed me a wicked grin. “It’s not a completely unselfish act. I haven’t had a chance to see everything yet myself.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone,” I mused.

  “While Addison is pretty much a walking guide book on this place, you’re stuck with me—the guy who knows just enough to be dangerous.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

  “Well, I might cheat by picking up a guidebook in the library.”

  “You had me at library,” I swooned.

  Thorn grinned. “I should’ve known you were one of those girls.”

  “Well, my nickname is Belle, and we all know how much she loved books and libraries.”

  With a frown, Thorn replied, “I can’t say that I do.”

  “You don’t know Beauty and the Beast?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Oh my God! We will have to remedy that ASAP when we get back home.”

  “I’m not watching cartoons with you.”

  “We can watch the live-action one.”

  “Whatever,” he mumbled. He sounded like a petulant teenage boy. It was going to be fun showing him Beauty and the Beast. No doubt I’d come up with other movies to annoy him with.

  We reached the landing of the stairs. “This is the ground floor.” He pointed into the first room on the right. “The Vermeil Room houses a bunch of fancy silver as well as some official portraits of First Ladies.”

  I peeked inside the ornately decorated space. “Interesting.”

  Thorn continued on until he paused outside the second door on the left. “This would be the room with some china stuff.”

  I laughed as I caught up to him. “I think you mean the China Room where the patterns of the First Ladies are kept,” I replied as we stepped inside.

  “That sounds more official.” He cocked a brow at me. “And just how did you know that? Were you holding out on me earlier with your White House knowledge?”

  “Yes and no. My knowledge of this comes from the movie The American President with Michael Douglas and Annette Benning.”

  “I don’t think I caught that one. Let me guess—it’s a romance?”

  “It is for the most part, but it also leans heavily on the political aspects of being the president.”

  “So do they get busy in the China Room?” Thorn teasingly asked.

  With a laugh, I replied, “No, they only share a kiss before he has to go bomb Libya.”

  “Man, that’s a bummer.”

  “They do ‘get busy’ later, but’s it’s one of those fade-to-black scenes, nothing too raunchy.”

  “Doesn’t sound like my kind of movie then.”

  “Well, I can imagine your kind of movie doesn’t have much of a plot except for a plumber with a bulge arriving at the house of a half-naked blonde.”

  Throwing his head back, Thorn laughed heartily. “Are you insinuating I only watch porn?”

  “Maybe.” Okay, maybe I liked to fantasize about him getting off while watching porn, like perhaps he had a thing for redhead porn. Yes, I realize I was completely pathetic.

  “I’m a man of varied tastes, Ms. Flannery. I like war movies, Westerns, biographies, and comedies. I just don’t dig cartoons or chick flicks like Beauty and the Beast.”

  I held up my hands. “I stand corrected.”

  “You know, we could catch a movie tonight if you’d like.”

  “Back in your room?”

  Thorn’s eyes flared at my somewhat suggestive comment. Seriously, Isabel? What were you thinking suggesting going back to the man’s bedroom? I was pretty sure in a mansion like this they’d have a few TVs lying around in living rooms.

  “I mean, in the family residence,” I quickly corrected.

  “Actually, we have our very own movie theater in the East Wing.” Thorn jerked his thumb to the right.

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  “Would you like to see it?”

  I smiled. “I’d love too.” When Thorn started back to the door, I grabbed the sleeve of his suit. “But first I want to see the rest of the ground floor.” I waggled my brows. “Most importantly, I want to see the library.”

  “It’s your lucky day, because it’s just across the hall.”

  With a squeal, I broke away from Thorn to run over. I burst through the door with the same level of excitement as a kid on Christmas morning, and when I got inside, I skidded to a reverent halt. Even though the room was tiny compared to the Beast’s library, I had to appreciate the historical significance. Many presidents had given speeches in this room, and it was surreal to be in the presence of something so…time honored.

  “Take one,” Thorn urged.

  I whirled around. “Excuse me?”

  “Take a book,” he repeated.

  “That’s what I thought you said.” I shook my head wildly back and forth. “I can’t take a book from the White House library.”

  “Why not? I don’t think they’ll miss it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there’s a meticulous record somewhere, not to mention some sensors and alarms would go off.”

  Thorn snorted. “I hardly think it’s like the Declaration of Independence.”

  “You never know.”

  With a smirk, Thorn said, “You’re such a rule-follower.”

  “Yes, and I’m not ashamed one bit,” I replied as I perused some of the shelves. Although I could have spent hours in that room, I could tell Thorn was getting impatient. “Lead on, fearless guide.”

  After we got back out into the Center Hall, Thorn gestured down the hallway. “If I remember correctly, there’s a
kitchen down there, along with a map room, some sort of receiving room for dignitaries, the doctor’s office, and Secret Service offices.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Sounds kinda boring.”

  “Which is probably why I don’t remember much of it,” Thorn remarked.

  Motioning to the staircase next to the library, I asked, “Where do those stairs go?”

  “Down to the basement.”

  I peered into the darkness. “Anything cool down there, or is it creepy?”

  “From what I remember, there’s a flower shop and a carpenter’s shop—oh, and the bowling alley.”

  Jerking my gaze to his, I declared, “Yeah, I gotta go down there.”

  “For what? The flower shop?”

  “No, the bowling alley.”

  Thorn stared at me in surprise. “You can’t be serious.”

  As I started down the stairs, I called over my shoulder, “Oh, I’m serious as a heart attack.”

  Thorn hustled to catch up with me. “I never thought I would see the day you would get all fired up about a bowling alley,” he murmured.

  Glancing around, I said, “Are we under some steps?”

  “Yep, the ones of the North Portico.”

  “That’s so cool.”

  In my mind, I imagined a bowling alley befitting the size of the White House, maybe with some cool strobe lights and a thumping stereo system. Instead, it was just a one-lane deal housed in a fairly small room.

  Regardless of the size, I was still pretty thrilled to see it. “If I lived here, I’d totally hang out down here.”

  “You bowl?” Thorn asked incredulously.

  “Heck yeah. Don’t you?”

  He chuckled. “No, I can’t say I do, nor do I think I ever use the phrase ‘heck yeah’.”

  Rolling my eyes, I replied, “It’s a Southern thing, and I’m not too surprised to hear you didn’t spend your summers in the Hamptons at the bowling alley.”

  “Har har.”

  “Growing up, the bowling alley and skating rink were the places to be.” A smile curved on my lips as forgotten memories flooded my mind. “My parents kept this can on top of the fridge where they always put spare change. At the end of the month, they gave it to Christina and me to use for bowling and skating. Somehow a few ones and fives made it in there too.”