For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend (2 page)

Brandy
stared at her brother, her heartbeat unable to regulate.
 
“What did you do, Dray?” she asked him
delicately.

“What
was I supposed to do?
 
I know those cops
would try to pin it all on me, and you know it, too!
 
So I took off.
 
I ran.”
  
He looked at his sister. “I ran to you,” he added.

Brandy’s
heart squeezed in agony.
 
She was almost
as terrified as DeAndre, but she knew she had to keep her wits about her.
 
She stood up.
 
“I’ll put on some clothes,” she said, trying not to show her distress.
 
“And we’ll try to get a lawyer to take you
in.”

“To
take me in?” DeAndre asked, astounded.
 
“But I didn’t do anything!”

“You
were there, Dray!
 
You were there.
 
They don’t care that you didn’t know what was
going down.
 
All they care about is that
you were there.”

DeAndre
knew what she meant, but that didn’t ease his pain.
 
He grabbed her by the arm as she turned to
leave.
 

She
looked at him.
 
Tears were in his big,
innocent eyes.
 
And she was angry.
 
He would be treated like every powerless kid
was treated in their custody, and she knew it.
 
He could be beaten, spit on, treated as if he was nothing.
 
As if he was a nobody.
 
But if they only knew who he really belonged
to, she thought as she stared at DeAndre.
 
If they only knew just who they were dealing with!
 
Then she realized how impossible that
was.
 
Because nobody in Gipson knew.
 

Not
even DeAndre.

“What’s
going to happen to me, sis?” he asked her.
 
“If I turn myself in, they’ll blame me for everything.”

Brandy
didn’t know what to tell him.
 
She was
only nine years older than her baby brother, and ever since their mother died
three months ago, he had been her sole focus and responsibility.
 
But he was such a good kid, he needed very
little supervision.
 
He got his own job,
eventually got his own place.
 
He did
everything he was supposed to do.

But
Brandy had promises to keep.
 
Because
when their mother was on her deathbed, she had promised her two things: that
she would never allow her baby brother to become a statistic and get into the
kind of trouble Brandy herself had gotten into; and that she would never tell
him about his birth circumstance.
 
And up
until tonight she’d kept both promises.
 

But
now, with that one thoughtless act of getting into a car with people he really
didn’t know that well, he turned the meaning of those promises on its
head.
 
He could be convicted of armed
robbery, one of the harshest felonies you could be convicted of.
 
And what about those gun shots?
 

And
what about the other promise?

But
she knew she had to keep it together.
 
“I’m going to get you the best representation money can buy, DeAndre,”
she said.
 
“I promise I’ll get you the
best.”

“But
you’re a stripper.
 
Where you gonna get
money like that?”
 
Then he looked more
hopeful.
 
“Unless you know somebody.
 
Somebody who can help us.
 
You know somebody, sis?”

Brandy
hated that it would come to this.
 
But
this was her brother.
 
She would move
heaven and earth for him if she had to.
 
“Yes,” she said.
 
“But first
things first.
 
Let me get on some clothes
and get you---”

But
the sound of the doorbell ringing, and then police-style banging, interrupted
her.

DeAndre,
terrified, stood to his feet.
 
“Brandy!”

“Don’t
panic!”

“How
could they know already?”

“Don’t
panic, Dray!”

“But
how could they know?”

“They
probably caught one of those brothers.
 
And I’m sure he readily told the cops that you were involved.
 
Probably claimed you were the shooter.”

“But
I wasn’t involved and I didn’t shoot anybody!”

“One
group of cops probably went to your apartment, and another group, this group,
came here.
 
But just settle down,
okay?
 
You’re going to be okay.”
 

“But
what are we gonna do?”

She
grabbed him by the arm.
 
“You’re going to
turn yourself in and pray there were cameras working in that store.
 
That’s what we’re gonna do!”
 
They walked steadily toward the front
door.
 
“And don’t you say a word to those
cops, you hear me, Dray?
 
They’ll lie and
twist it around.
 
Not one word,
Dray.”
 
Then she yelled, “I’m coming,”
when the banging became even more ferocious.
 

Once
they were near the front door, she ordered her brother to lay down.

“Lay
down?” DeAndre asked.
 
“Why I got to lay
down?”

“Because
I don’t want to give them an opportunity to blow your brains out fool!
 
Now just do it!”

DeAndre
didn’t want to do it, but he knew his big sister had never, not ever, led him
wrong.
 
He laid on the floor, face down,
with his arms and legs outstretched.

“Who
is it?” Brandy asked as she looked out of the peephole and saw the cops.

“Gipson
Police.
 
Open up!”

Brandy
had only to open the door slightly before the police barged on in, forcing her
aside with their weapons drawn.
 
When
they saw DeAndre stretched out, she could see the disappointment in some of
their eyes.
 
Their leader, Mack Stephens,
she knew from the strip club.

As
his men cuffed and frisked her brother, she folded her thin arms and looked at
Mack.

“What’s
the charge supposed to be?” she asked him.

“Armed
robbery,” he said.

“Armed
robbery?” She asked this as if she was hearing the news for the first
time.
 
“Oh, come on, Mack!
 
My brother would never rob---”

“And
murder, Brandy,” he added.

Brandy’s
heart constricted in fear.
 
She stared at
him.
 
“Murder?”

“A
store clerk was shot.
 
She died on the
way to the hospital.
 
She had two gunshot
wounds to the chest and one to the stomach.
 
And she was pregnant, Bran.”
 
Then
he exhaled.
 
“This ain’t no kid
stuff.
 
Your brother is in trouble.”

Brandy
could hardly breathe.
 
She looked at
DeAndre as they slung him to his feet and began reading him his Miranda
Warning.
 

“
Brandy
,” he started saying in panic as
they led him out of the door; as they continued heartlessly to read him those rights;
as his big eyes kept looking back at her.
 
“
Brandy
!”

“It’ll
be okay, Dray,” she assured him.
 
“It’ll
be okay.”

She
held to this hope even as they put him in the police car, and even as they
backed out of her driveway and drove him away.
 
Her neighbors were out in force, many still in their sleepwear, as they
watched all of this drama unfold on a street accustomed to drama.
 

Brandy
hurried back inside.
 
She knew the peril
her brother was in.
 
She knew what he was
now up against.
 
She knew his very freedom,
and maybe even his very life, was now in serious jeopardy.
  
And the one man with the kind of power to
get him out of this mess; that one man who had the kind of reach that could
change what seemed impossible to change, probably wouldn’t accept her
call.
 

But
she had to make that call.
 

For
the sake of her baby brother, she had to make that call.

CHAPTER TWO

Walter
“Dutch” Harber stood at the center island in his huge kitchen and sipped coffee
from his coffee mug.
 
He was fully dressed,
in a light-brown business suit that fit him with tailored perfection, and in
jet-black Ferragamo wingtips that he crossed at the ankle, as he perused the
morning newspaper.
 
His young son, Walter
Robert Harber, was fully dressed too, in his black-and-white kindergarten
uniform, as he sat at the kitchen table with Nanny, eating cereal and reciting,
by memory, the Pledge of Allegiance.

Dutch
sipped more coffee and turned another page.
 
Crader McKenzie, the man who replaced him nearly a year ago as President
of the United States, was under heavy assault all over the news.
 
From the slow pace of economic recovery, to
the instability in Syria, to healthcare, the journalists wrote with skeptical
pens about every policy.
 
They were
almost as bad on Crader as they had been on Dutch himself, which caused Dutch
to shake his head.
 
He resigned the
presidency amid harsh criticism that he was giving up just when his country
needed him most.
 
But now, just reading
the morning paper, reaffirmed for him that he had absolutely made the right
decision.

He
looked at his watch, and then pressed the intercom button on the center
island.
 
“Gina?”
 
No response.
 
“Gina?”

When
there was still no response, Little Walt stopped reciting the Pledge and looked
over at his father.
 
He had Dutch’s
sparkling green eyes that often contained enough brown hue to make them look
more like hazel eyes, but he had his mother’s darker skin tone and facial
shape.
 
“Want me to go get her, Daddy?”
the youngster asked.

Dutch
smiled, showing lines of age around his eyes.
 
“Thanks, Champ, but I think I can handle it.”

“You
sure?”

“I’m
sure.”

“But
it’s real easy for me to go and get her.”

Dutch
knew a dodge when he heard one.
 
He
looked at his son.
 
“Nanny told you to
talk to me,” he asked, “or to recite the Pledge?”

Little
Walt smiled and then covered his mouth.
 
“To say ‘I Pledge Allegiance to the Flag.’”

“Then
get back to it.”

“Yes,
sir,” Walt said, knowing not to push his father.
 
“But if you need me to get Mommy, you’ll let
me know?”

Dutch
couldn’t help but smile.
 
“Yes, son, I’ll
let you know.”

That
satisfied the child.
 
“Where did I stop?”
he asked his Nanny.

But
Nanny knew a dodge when she heard one too.
 
“Start from the beginning,” she ordered him.
 

Dutch
continued turning the pages of his newspaper.
 
When he realized all of the stories were running together and that the
current page was just like the previous pages, all filled with criticism and
scorn, he closed the paper altogether.
 
He folded the paper, walked over to Little Walt and playfully slapped
him upside his head, causing him to grin, and then headed upstairs.

A lot
had changed in the year since Dutch resigned.
 
Because his wife was born and bred in Newark and they had their
post-White House home built there, he relocated the home office of his company,
Harber Industries, from Boston to Newark, which was still a work in progress in
and of itself.
 
He also agreed to allow
Gina to continue working at Block-by-Block Raiders, or BBR, a company she
founded before they were married, and he allowed it despite the organization’s
undesirable location.
 
But she had
sacrificed mightily for him during his tenure as president, now it was his time
to do a little sacrificing for her.
 
Although, he had to admit, he was pleased with the results.
 
Newark offered a lot of tax incentives for his
company move, and, most importantly, he could be home with his family every
night.
 
Besides, happy wife, happy life
had always been his motto.
 
Now it was
his life’s ambition.

“Gina!”
he called out again as he walked along the corridor of the second floor landing
and then entered the master bedroom.
 

Regina
Harber, his African-American wife, was asleep in bed.
 
She was supposed to be up and getting
dressed, but she was still in bed.
 
He
smiled and leaned against the doorjamb, shaking his head as he stared at
her.
 
But that was his Gina.
 
The woman could sleep through a terrorist
attack.

He
pushed from the door, walked over to her slender form, and sat on the side of
the bed.
 
She looked long and lean and
gorgeous beneath those sheets, and when he moved to shake her awake, he opted
to shake her small, tight ass above any other body part.

“All
right, kido,” he said, rubbing as much as shaking her.
 
“Time to get up.”

There
was a grunt from her, but nothing more.

“It’s
time, Gina,” he said again.

But
Gina, being Gina, continued to sleep.

“Come
on, babe.
 
Wake up.”

Finally,
after a few more rubs, she began to show some signs.

“That’s
right, babe,” Dutch said.
 
“It’s time.”

“It’s
not time yet,” she said groggily, slowly waking up.

“It’s
time.
 
Time to make a start.” He slapped
her rear instead of rubbing it this time, and that seemed to do it.

Gina
turned her face toward him and finally opened her big brown eyes.
 
Her short hair was pushed back, revealing a
round, dark-brown face that highlighted for Dutch just how attractive a woman
she really was.
 
Although she was moving
past her mid-thirties now, and wasn’t a kid anymore, she couldn’t have looked
more beautiful to him.
 

When
she saw his handsome face, she, too, was pleased.
 
She smiled.
 
“Good morning,” she said.

He
leaned down and kissed her on the lips, then he stayed there with his hands
resting on either side of her.
 
He
crossed his legs.
 
“Good morning, my
queen.”

Gina
loved when he called her that.
 
A feeling
of warmth shot through her body.
 
“What
time is it?”

“That’s
an easy one.
 
Time for you to get up.”

Then
Gina realized something.
 
“But why are
you still here?
 
You’re supposed to be
picking up Jade today.
 
Don’t you have a
plane to catch?”

“Not
before I take you to work.”

“Oh,
Dutch, you don’t have to do that!
 
You
already have BBR as fortified as the White House was.
 
I’ll be fine.”

“I
know you will.
 
And I’m going to take you
to work to make sure you are.”

“But
you have a tight schedule, Dutch.
 
You
have a plane to catch.”

“Since
it’s my plane,” Dutch said with a smile, “I’m reasonably certain it won’t leave
without me.”

Gina
hit him on the arm.
 
“Very funny.”

“How
did you sleep?”

“Great.
 
Like always since we left Washington.”

Dutch
nodded his head as a pained look crossed his handsome face.
 

Gina
saw it, and understood exactly where it was coming from.
 
“Oh, honey,” she said, placing her hand on
the side of his face.
 
“I married you
when you were already president.
 
It
couldn’t be helped.”

“I
know.
 
But I still wish you didn’t have
to endure all of those years of so much pain and heartache.”
 
He looked into her bright brown eyes.
 
“My job now is to make sure none of that
craziness comes anywhere near you ever again.”

Gina
studied him.
 
He was such a caring
man.
 
“So you’re my happiness protector
now?”

“I
was always your protector.
 
More so now.”

Gina
knew he meant it too.
 
Then she thought
about the reason why he had a plane to catch, and that anxiety she still felt
about their decision returned.
 
“Jade’s
getting out today,” she said.

Dutch
nodded.
 
“Yup.
 
Her first two-day furlough since the court
order.”
 

Although
Dutch had voluntarily placed her in treatment previously, he had to get her
court ordered to stay when she attempted to leave on her own.
 
Now she couldn’t leave until the doctors and
courts agreed that she was ready.
 
Convincing Dutch that she was ready would go a long way in convincing
the courts.
 
“It’ll be her first chance
to leave Hammersmith and prove she’s ready to leave for good,” he added.

“And
she wants to spend those two days with you,” Gina said.

Dutch
considered her.
 
“With us, yes.
 
That’s the plan anyway.
 
You’re still looking forward to it?”

“I’m
looking forward to you and your daughter having a good relationship again.
 
That’s needful.”

That
didn’t exactly answer his question, but he didn’t press the issue.
 

“At
least she’ll have some breathing room here in Jersey,” Gina said, “rather than
when we lived in DC.
 
At least that level
of scrutiny and pressure will be off.”

Dutch
smiled.
 
“I honestly think, Mrs. Harber,
that you’re even happier to be away from DC than I am.”

Gina
laughed.
 
“I’m just grateful to God it’s
over, I’m not trying to pretend otherwise.
 
I’m just grateful we’re able to live our lives on our own terms
now.”
 
Then her look turned serious.
 
“I feel sorry for La and Crader, though.”

Dutch
raised his eyebrows in agreement.
 
“They’re excoriating the poor guy in the press.
 
Even that foolishness in Syria is his fault
too, let the press tell it.
 
It’s
ridiculous.
 
But Loretta’s making it look
easy.”

“Isn’t
she though?
 
I mean LaLa wears that First
Lady moniker way better than I did.
 
And
I’m not mad at her.
 
I’m proud of her
actually.
 
Crader’s finally gotten his
shit together and is too busy running the country to be out there chasing
tail.”

Dutch
laughed.
 
“I’m going to tell him you said
that.”

“Tell
him!” Gina said proudly. “I’m not scared of Crader McKenzie!
 
He knows I speak the truth.”
 
Then she smiled.
 
“I’m just so glad I didn’t have to take that
kind of crap from you.
 
I’m glad you
wasn’t the tail-chasing type.”

An
anguished look came over Dutch’s handsome face.
 
He exhaled.
 
“I’m no saint, Gina,”
he said to her.
 
“Nowhere near it.”

Gina
always felt a sense of dread when he said those words to her.
 
It always made her feel like there was
something else out there, some devastating secret she didn’t know about.
 
“I didn’t say you were saintly,” she said.
 
“But some things need to be settled between
couples.
 
Being faithful to each other,
in my opinion, is the number one thing.
 
But Crader and LaLa’s doing well.
 
That’s the point.”

“While
you, on the other hand,” Dutch said, rising from the edge of the bed and
unbuttoning his suit coat, “isn’t doing anything she’s supposed to be doing
right now.”
 
He pulled the covers off of
her, revealing her curvaceous, naked body.

“I
went to bed late last night, for your information, and I, what are you
doing?”
 
She had shock in her voice as he
began to lift her out of bed.
 
“Dutch,
what are you doing?
 
Dutch, put me down!”
Her voice was a combination of fear and laughter as he hoisted her into his
arms and began carrying her to the bathroom.