For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend (8 page)

BOOK: For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend
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Sam
nodded her head.
 
“I know a man with a
plan,” she said.
 
“And if his plan works,
it’ll shake things up for us in a powerful, beautiful way.
 
It’ll turn our miserable world inside out,
Jade.”

“And
what about Gina?” Jade asked.
 
“What will
this plan do for her miserable world?”

Sam
smiled.
 
That was the beauty of it.
 
“It’ll turn her world upside down,” she said,
“until she won’t have a world to turn.”

Jade
stared at her mother.
 
Was she telling
the truth, or just trying to make her feel better?
 
But her sometimes harsh, always strict mother
never, not ever played games.
 
And that
fact alone caused Jade to feel much better.
 
And to slowly smile that old familiar, reptilian smile that still made
Sam’s skin crawl.

 

By
the time Dutch entered Christian’s office, Christian had adjourned the meeting
and had cleared the room, and he and Brandy were seated quietly at his
conference table.
 
As soon as Dutch walked
in, Christian stood up.
 
Brandy remained
where she was.
 
He was the former
president, but she had no respect for this man.

“Hello,
sir,” Christian said.

Dutch
stared at Brandy as he walked up to the table, his hands in his pants pockets,
his suit coat still buttoned.
 
He stood
at the table, staring at Brandy while Brandy stared up at him.
 
Then he unbuttoned his suit coat, and sat
directly across from her.

“I’ll
wait outside,” Christian said, turning to leave.

“Stay
right where you are,” Dutch ordered.
 
Christian stopped in his tracks.

“I
know you don’t want me here,” Brandy said, getting on with it.
 
“I know you never dreamed I’d come.
 
I never dreamed I’d come.
 
You’re the last person I ever wanted to come
to.
 
But DeAndre needs help.”

Dutch,
however, remained unmoved.

“They’re
accusing him of a crime he didn’t commit,” Brandy continued.
 
“He needs you to get those charges dropped
against him.”

Christian
wondered who in the world was she talking about.
 
Who was DeAndre?
 
But Dutch seemed to know.
 

“You
know the stipulations,” Dutch finally replied.

“Yes,
I know them.”

“You
know you have a no-contact order in those stipulations.”

“I
know that.
 
But didn’t you hear me?
DeAndre needs help.”

“You
are in violation of the agreement,” Dutch said.
 

“But DeAndre
is in trouble!” Brandy yelled.
 
“They
claim he robbed and killed a pregnant woman when he didn’t rob and kill
anybody!
 
He was in the wrong place at
the wrong time, but they could send him to prison for the rest of his
life.
 
Or worse.
 
He needs help!”

But
if she was expecting tea and sympathy from Dutch, she was badly mistaken.
 
“You are in violation---”

“I
don’t give a damn about some violation!” She said this so angrily that
Christian looked at her.
 
Who did she
think she was?
 
Did she realize who she
was talking that way to?
 

But
Brandy kept talking that way to Dutch.
 
“My brother is in trouble and you’ve got to help him, or I declare I’ll
go to your wife. I’ll tell it all!”

Dutch
just sat there, his face, it seemed to Christian, as cold as ice.
 
“You’re threatening me?” Dutch asked her.

But
Brandy was asking her own questions.
 
“I’m telling you what’s happening.
 
How can you act like it’s nothing?
 
You’ve got to get those charges dropped!”

“I
asked you a question,” Dutch said, reaffirming for Brandy why she could never
respect him.
 
“Are you threatening me?”

And
his lack of empathy angered her.
 
“Yes
I’m threatening you!” she yelled.
 
“I’ll
go to your wife.
 
I declare I will.
 
She has a right to know.
 
Or even better, I’ll go to the press.
 
Let them see what kind of man you really
are.”

“You
do that,” Dutch said, standing to his feet.
 
“Go to the press.
 
And when that
brother of yours is completely cut off, without a dime, see how much the press
will assist him.
 
See what they’ll think
about his troubles.”

“He
didn’t kill anybody!” Brandy yelled, standing too.

“Tell
it to the press.
 
See if they’re help his
cause.”

“But
he didn’t kill anybody!”

“Who
gives a shit!” Dutch blared.
 
“You think
I forgot how you and that mother of yours came to me?
 
It was straight-up extortion, lady.
 
I haven’t forgotten that!”

“Then
why did you make a deal with extortionists?
 
Because you knew what it would do to your reputation if it went
public.
 
You knew, after Marcus Rance,
you couldn’t take another embarrassment.
 
It was all about you, not your wife.
 
That’s why you did the deal.
 
And
that’s why you have to help my brother.
 
You have to!”

“You
are in violation of the agreement, Miss Clarke, and I suggest you get out of
this building before I act on that violation.”

Brandy
couldn’t believe it.
 
She shook her
head.
 
“The world thinks you’re this
wonderful family man.
 
This great leader.
 
This perfect gentleman.
 
But I know better.
 
You’re a ruthless, heartless, coldblooded
sonafabitch!”

Dutch
stared at her.
 
The compassion Christian
usually saw in his soft green eyes were gone.
 
“Christian,” Dutch said.

Christian
stood erect, as if he was standing at attention.
 
“Yes, sir?”

“Get
this piece of trash out of my building, and get her out now.”

Christian
couldn’t believe Dutch would speak of somebody that way.
 
He looked at Brandy, who didn’t seem
surprised at all.
 

“Come
with me, ma’am, please,” Christian said, taking her by the arm.

But
Brandy jerked away from his grasp.
 
She
was still staring at Dutch.
 
“I may be
poor,” she said, “and trash in your eyes.
 
But at least I don’t live my life in secrets and lies.
 
At least I don’t live my life pretending to
be some great person when I’m nothing but a snake in the grass!”

“Let’s
go, ma’am,” Christian said.
 
“You can’t
talk to the president that way.”

“I’ll
talk to him any way I
got
damn
please!
 
He don’t deserve any
better!
 
The way he treated my family,
the way he treats my brother, I don’t give a fuck about who he is!
 
I’ll talk to him anyway I
got
damn please!”

“Either
you come with me,” Christian said, “or you go with the authorities.”

She
knew the gig was up.
 
She knew there was
no changing the mind of a man like Dutch Harber.
 
So she eventually left the office with
Christian.
 
She didn’t want to make it
any worse than she knew she already had.
 
He could terminate the agreement just as he said.
 
He could ruin any chance her brother had of
any future.
 
But right now, her brother
needed help.
 
Right now she didn’t give a
damn about any inheritance due him when he turned twenty-one.
 
If she didn’t get him help now, he wasn’t
going to be free at twenty-one to enjoy it anyway.
 

As
Christian escorted her onto the elevator and they headed back downstairs, she
was silent now.
 
She knew what she had to
do.
 
It was the longest of long shots,
but she had to go there.
 

Regina
Harber, the president’s wife, was the only shot she had left.

 

Back
upstairs, Dutch remained in Christian’s office, attempting to recover from the
shock of her visit.
 
It had been so long.
 
He thought it was settled.
 
Yet here she was, trying that same
threatening to go public shit again.
 
He
thought about her mother, about that Carrie Clarke, and how she schemed and
connived to get exactly what she wanted.
 
He thought when he heard about her death a few months back, that would
seal the deal of any more extortion attempts.
 
But he’d forgotten about that stripper daughter of hers, and how she was
just as bad as the mother.
 

Maybe
worse.
 

Then
he thought about the boy.
 
He was
what?
 
Eighteen now?
 
He was grown now, which was good.
 
But it didn’t feel good to Dutch.
 
It felt intrusive.
 
It felt suffocating.
 
It felt like yet another ghost rattling his
grave.
 

He
exhaled, walked around to Christian’s desk, and picked up the phone.
 
He dialed his secretary’s extension.

“Jess?”

“Yes,
sir?”

“Get
my attorney on the phone and tell him to get to my office now.”

“Which
attorney, sir?
 
Business attorney Rogers,
or Criminal attorney Bates?”

Dutch
hesitated.
  
“Bates,” he said, and hung
up the phone.

 
 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“Mommy
loves Walter,” Gina said to Little Walt as they sat on the private plane and
waited for Dutch’s arrival.

“No,”
Walt said.
 
“Walter loves mommy.”

“And
mommy loves Walter.”

Walt
smiled as his mother tickled him.
 

They
were sitting side by side, with Gina’s arms around the boy.
 
And as usual, he was asking a ton of
questions.

“Daddy’s
coming too?” he asked.

“Yes,
of course he’s coming.
 
Daddy wouldn’t
miss it.
 
We’re waiting for him now.”

“He
won’t be too busy?”

Gina
hated that Dutch still had such a hectic schedule and hadn’t slowed down hardly
at all since he resigned the presidency.
 
But he also relocated his business to New Jersey so that he could come
home to his family every night.
 
That was
a mammoth job in and of itself, and he still wasn’t completely settled.
  
“No, son,” she replied, “he won’t be too
busy.”

“He’s
always busy.”

“That’s
because he runs a major corporation.
 
And
they just moved the home office here, so he could spend more time with us.
 
Things will slow down soon.”

But
Walt still had more questions.
 
“Why did
Daddy stay away last night?”

Gina
didn’t understand what he meant.
 
“Stay
away?”
 
She didn’t recall Dutch going
anywhere last night.

“From
the movie,” Walt explained.
 
“It was
supposed to be our movie night and Daddy left and didn’t come back.
 
You left too, but you came back.”

“Oh,
sweetheart, Daddy didn’t mean anything by it!
 
He loves you.
 
You know he
does.
 
He was just so tired last night.
 
He ended up falling asleep.”

“But
it was movie night.
 
Why did he get in
the bed to fall asleep when it was movie night?”

Gina
wanted to smile just thinking about why Dutch ended up in bed, and what exactly
they were doing in that bed last night, but her child looked so serious.
 
She pulled him closer.
 
“He’d just gotten back into town, honey, and
had just been on a long plane ride.
 
He
was tired.
 
He didn’t mean to fall
asleep, but sometimes our bodies can’t keep going.
 
He’ll make it up to you next week.
 
He’ll be sure to be fully awake and watch
both movies with you.”

“Can
we watch Shrek again?”

Gina
smiled.
 
It was one of Walt’s favorite
movies.
 
“Yes, baby, we can watch it
again.”

“And
Daddy won’t be too busy?”

“Daddy
won’t be too busy.”

“You
promise?” Walt asked hopefully.

“I
promise,” Gina said, and squeezed his nose, causing him to laugh.

They
continued to laugh and talk for nearly half an hour longer, until Dutch’s
motorcade finally drove onto the airstrip and Dutch and his entourage of aides,
his assigned Secret Service agent, and his own security detail, all made their
way onto the plane.
 

As
soon as Dutch boarded, Walt jumped up and ran to his father.
 
“You made it!” he said as Dutch hoisted him
into his arms.

“Yes,
I did.
 
How about that?”

“Mommy
said you would come.”

“Did
she?” Dutch asked as he made his way to the master seats.
 
He leaned down and kissed Gina, and then sat
in the seat, with Walt on his lap, across from her.

“Now
look who’s late,” Gina said with a smile.
 
“We’ve been waiting ages.”

“Sorry
about that,” Dutch said, smiling too, but he looked almost flustered to
Gina.
 

“You’re
okay?” she asked him.

“I’m
good,” he said, although his eyes said differently.
 
“Glad to be getting away for a few days.”

“We’re
going to see Nikki and Uncle Crader and Auntie LaLa,” Walt said.

“That’s
right,” Dutch said, kissing his son as he held him like a baby in his
arms.
 
“Looking forward to it, Champ?”

“Yes,
thanks,” replied Walt.
 
“Are you looking
forward to it, Champ?”

 
Gina smiled.
 
Dutch nodded.
 
“I most certainly
am.”

“Are
they happy again?” Walt asked.

Gina
and Dutch glanced at each other.
 
Then
they looked at Walt.
 
“What do you mean,
baby?” Gina asked him.
 
“Is who happy
again?”

“Uncle
and Auntie.
 
They were mad, I mean angry
at each other all the time.
 
Something
Uncle Crader did, I think.”

Dutch
couldn’t believe it.
 
How in the world
did he know about that?
 
Gina, as if
thinking the same thing, could only shake her head.
 
Just the thought that even Little Walt would
know that there had been plenty of trouble in LaLa and Crader’s paradise
stunned them.
 
Especially Dutch, who was
still reeling from the trouble that came to his own paradise earlier
today.
 

He
looked at Walt.
 
“Where’s Nanny?”

“In
the other part of the plane.”

“Why
don’t you go and spend some time with her while I speak with your mother,
okay?”

“Okay,”
Walt said, although it was obvious he would rather stay with his parents.
 
But he dutifully got off of his father’s lap
and made his way out of their cabin.
 
Dutch stood at the door as his assistant escorted Walt to the opposite
end of the plane where Nanny and the rest of their staffs, including the secret
service, were sitting.
 
He then closed
the door of the private cabin and sat next to Gina.

“Can
you believe he would know about that?” she asked him.
 
“I don’t recall them having any arguments
around the children.”

“Get
a smart kid like Walter and it wouldn’t matter.
 
They’re too perceptive.”

“For
real,” Gina agreed.
 
“You can’t put
anything pass that little boy.
 
He even
questioned why you didn’t return to finish watching the movie last night.”

Dutch
looked at her.
 
“What did you tell him?”

“I
told him the truth.
 
You were overtired
so you went on to sleep.
 
I failed to
mention, however, my body’s role in tiring you so completely.”

Dutch
smiled.

“But
yeah,” Gina said.
 
“He’s the inquisitive
one.”

Dutch
was gone again.
 
Gina could sense
something was bothering him.
 
“What is
it, honey?” she asked.
 
“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.
 
Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar,
liar, pants on fire.”

Dutch
smiled, very weakly this time.
 
“It’s
just that a lot is going on.”

“With
the move?”

“Among
other things, yes.”
 
Then he placed her
hand in his.
 
“I’m just grateful to be
getting away.”

Gina
smiled.
 
“Yes,” she said.
 
“It’s needful and best.”

Dutch
agreed.
 
But as he floated back into his
contemplative state, a state Gina knew he only got into when heavy duty issues
were on his mind, she began to feel concerned.
 
But she knew Dutch.
 
He was not
about to worry her with his issues unless he felt it necessary, and he expected
her to understand that and never pressure him about it.
 
It was the way he always handled those crisis
situations he had to deal with on a daily basis when he was president, it was
still the way he handled a crisis now.
 
He placed his arm around her and pulled her against him.
 
He wanted his wife happy and at peace.
 
No matter what.

 

Loretta
“LaLa” McKenzie, the First Lady of the United States, was unsettled in her
kitchen.
 
The chef was preparing a
delicious dinner, and she was tasting the various sauces he had concocted, but
she still wasn’t satisfied.
 
Was it too
simple a meal?
 
Did she undershoot?

She
looked at her husband when he walked into the kitchen.
 
They were in Florida for the weekend, at
their estate on Ruth Island, and they were loving the time away from crazy
D.C..

“I
have a question, Cray,” she said.

Crader
McKenzie, the former vice president who stepped into the presidency when Dutch
resigned, smiled.
 
“Ask away,” he
replied.

“You’re
Dutch’s best friend.
 
Do you think he’ll
like the menu?
 
I know Gina will.
 
But will Dutch?
 
It’s mostly soul food.”

“He’ll
love it,” Crader said as he opened the door of the refrigerator and grabbed a
beer.

“You
don’t think it’s too simplistic?
 
The
menu I mean?”

Crader
smiled.
 
“Why are you acting as if you
don’t know Dutch and Gina?
 
You know
them.
 
You don’t have to put on any airs
for them.”

“I
know,” LaLa said.
 
“We just haven’t had a
chance to really get together since you became president, and I really want
this to be special.”

Crader
walked over to his wife, sat his bottle of beer on the center island, and
turned her toward him.
 
LaLa smiled.
 
She was completely happy for the first time
in a very long time.
 
Crader, she felt,
was a major reason why.
 

He
kissed her on the lips.
 
“Will you stop
worrying?” he asked her.
 
“It’ll all be
fabulous.
 
This is Dutch and Gina we’re
talking about.
 
They’re practically
family.
 
Soul food will be fine.
 
Whatever Chef cooks will be fine.”

“I
don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Because
you love them and want everything to be perfect.
 
I get it.
 
But I want you to relax.
 
You’ve
been doing your duties in Washington admirably.
 
This is our weekend.
 
Turn it
off.
 
Relax.
 
I want you to enjoy yourself.”

LaLa
smiled and kissed him.
 
“Yes, sir,” she
said.
 
And he returned her
affection.
 
And soon, as was usually the
case with Crader, their chaste kiss suddenly turned passionate, and he was
doing her right where they stood: in the kitchen.

LaLa
was feeling the heat, too, but she was concerned about exposure.
 
“What if Chef comes back?” she asked.

“Bump
Chef,” Crader said as he lifted her skirt, pulled down her panties, and began
fingering her as he kissed her.
 


Ouch, Cray
,” she said painfully when his
finger became too rough. He eased up, but he continued to massage her
vagina.
 
And they didn’t ease up with
their passionate kissing.

They
kept kissing, and he kept fingering her so decisively that he stopped kissing
her up top, stooped down, and began kissing her below.
 
She was leaned back against the center island
as he placed her legs on each one of his shoulders, opening her wide, and began
licking her and sucking her: mouth-fucking her hard.
 
So hard that LaLa’s upper body was leaned
back onto the center island, barely able to bear the way Crader was putting it
on her.
 
She tried to sit up, to force
him to ease up, but that only made him even hungrier.
 
He ate the shit out of her.
 
He had her pussy red and raw, by the time he
finished.

And
he didn’t stop until she was on the verge of cumming.
 
He then stood up, unzipped his pants, and put
it in her with one hard thrust, taking her on over

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