THE PRESIDENT'S GIRLFRIEND (15 page)

     “You look awful,” Dempsey said.

     “Thanks a lot.”

     “I mean drained, tired.  That’s all I meant, Gina.  When you should be celebrating.”

     Gina stared at Dempsey and LaLa.  They looked so cheerful.  They actually thought she had convinced Dutch.  They were actually expecting her to bust out with some big news.  Her heart dropped.  “And why should I be celebrating?” she asked him.

     “Haven’t you heard?” LaLa asked.

     “Heard what?”

     LaLa smiled, looked at Dempsey.  “I told you she didn’t know.”

     “Know what, LaLa?  What is it?”

     LaLa sat up straight in her chair.  “Well, whatever you did to that man Saturday night, girl, it worked Monday morning because our President Walter “Dutch” Harber has vetoed the appropriations bill.”    

     Gina snatched her shades off of her face.  “You lyin’!”

     “He vetoed it and sent it back to Congress!”

     Gina smiled and leaned back in her chair.  “Really?”

     “You mean you didn’t know?” Dempsey asked her.  “He didn’t tell you he was going to do it?”

     Gina shook her head.  “No, he didn’t tell me anything.  We didn’t even discuss it.”

     “Didn’t discuss it?” LaLa asked, confused.  “Then what the hell did you meet with him for if you didn’t discuss it?”

     Gina’s desk intercom buzzed. 
Saved by the bell
, she thought.  “Yes, Al?”

     “A Mr. Herbert
Montescue
is here to see you, Tore.”

     Gina looked at LaLa puzzled.  LaLa was puzzled too.  “Send him in,” Gina ordered.  “Who’s Herbert
Montescue
?” she immediately asked.

     “Hell if I know,” LaLa replied.

     The office door opened and a tall, well built man in his mid-forties entered.  “Regina Lansing?” he asked as he walked toward her.

     “Yes,” Gina said as she stood to her feet.  “And this is my business associates, Loretta King and Dempsey Cooper.”

     “Miss King, Mr. Cooper, nice to meet you.”

     “Have a seat, Mr.
Montescue
.”

     “Thank-you,”
Montescue
said cheerfully as he sat in front of Gina’s desk.  Gina also sat down.  “I know you’re wondering why I’m here, so I’ll be short and sweet and to the point.  I’m a businessman from Tennessee, a friend of a friend of yours.”

     “And who’s this friend?” LaLa asked him.

    
Montescue
looked to his side.   He smiled at LaLa but addressed Gina.  “Dutch Harber,” he said in a lowered tone.

     Gina glanced at LaLa.  “Go on,” she said.

     “Well, Dutch and I were talking yesterday, he was in Tennessee taking a look at that awful flood damage along the Cumberland.  Well he pulled me aside and we got to talking, just general conversation you understand, and he mentioned some worthy causes around the country that he found interesting.  No endorsements of any sort, mind.  No endorsements at all.  But interesting, he said.  They were interesting causes that he personally found interesting.  Such as Block by Block Raiders, for example.”  He looked directly at Gina when he said this.

     “And what exactly did he find interesting about BBR?” LaLa asked.  She didn’t like
Montescue
.  He spoke in riddles. 

     “Perhaps I can speak with you alone, Miss Lansing?”

     “No, it’s okay,” Gina said.  “She’s okay.  So, if I understand you correctly, you decided to check out our organization because we won the Mountain Movers award?”

     “Exactly,”
Montescue
said in a relieved tone.  Dutch was right, he thought.  She is sharp.  “And so I wish to donate,” he said, pulling out his checkbook, “to this worthy cause.”

     Gina’s heart began to soar.  She glanced at LaLa, who was holding her breath.

     “If that’s all right with you?”
Montescue
asked.

     “Yes,” Gina said, working hard to contain her elation.  “All donations are appreciated.”

    
Montescue
wrote the check and then ripped it from his checkbook, handing it to Gina.  Then he immediately stood up.  “Well, I’d better get back,” he said.  “As I stated earlier, I, too, found your organization here interesting and thought I’d do my part.”  He extended his hand.  “You have a wonderful day, Miss Lansing,” he said.

     “You too, Mr.
Montescue
.  And thank-you so much.”

     “Oh, don’t thank me,” he said, placing his checkbook back inside his suit coat pocket.  “I’m just privileged to be a friend of your friend.  Oh, and of course, I have other like-minded friends who would be very interested in a program such as yours.  Perhaps they can likewise get in touch?”

     “Yes, by all means,” Gina said.  “We would be most appreciative.”

    
Montescue
smiled.  Looked Gina up and down.  She wasn’t the sort he would have thought a man like Dutch Harber would find attractive, but for some odd reason, he could see absolutely why he’d find her attractive.  “Goodbye, Miss Lansing.”  He looked toward Dempsey and LaLa.  “Miss King, Mr. Cooper.” 

     Then he walked out.

     After he walked out, Dempsey and LaLa hurried to Gina’s desk.  Gina finally looked at the check amount. 

     “It better not be in the hundreds,” LaLa said.  “Not if the president ordered him to do it.”

     “The president can’t order him to do any such thing,” Dempsey said.  “That would be illegal.”

     “That check ain’t illegal though, is it?” LaLa asked Dempsey.

     “No,” Dempsey assured her.  “I mean, what’s to stop a friend of the president’s from donating to an organization run by another one of his, quote unquote, ‘friends’?”

     “How much is it, Tore?” LaLa asked in great anticipation.

     Gina looked at her best friend, speechless.

     “What?” LaLa anxiously wanted to know. 

     Gina swallowed hard.  “Four hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars,” she said.

     Dempsey snatched the check from her hands to see it with his own two eyes.

     LaLa fainted.

+++

Two hours later, when her day couldn’t get any better, it actually did.  She was in
Cribb’s
, a sports bar they often frequented for lunch, with a now fully recovered LaLa, Dempsey, and Frank, when her cell phone began to ring.  They were celebrating, not just the major donation, their biggest private donation ever, one that would keep the doors open until Congress got its act together.  But they were also celebrating the fact that Dutch had vetoed that appropriations bill.  When she looked at her Caller ID and saw that it was Christian, she excused herself and hurried through the bar’s exit.

     “Hey, Christian,” she said once she stepped outside, “tell Dutch great move.” 

     “Why don’t you tell me yourself,” Dutch replied on the phone.  He was in a limousine on his way to visit wounded troops at Walter Reed.

     Gina was astounded to hear that it was his voice, and not Christian’s.  “I didn’t think you were allowed to talk on telephones.”

     “Oh, yeah,” Dutch replied, “and why’s that?”

     “Saturday night together,” she said, remembering how hard he pounded her.  “No phone call whatsoever on Sunday.”

     “Didn’t have a moment’s free time on Sunday.”  Dutch remembered, too.  Remembered how she arched that fabulous brown body up to his as his dick slid deeper into her.

     “No free time,” Gina said, “except to pull certain businessmen aside and sing the praises of BBR.  Of which I also thank-you.”

     “All of the award winning organizations are worthy causes.”  He said this so formally that Gina realized she had to check herself.  What
Montescue
did for BBR had to have no direct connection to him.

     “I agree,” she said.

     “I’ve arrived at my destination so I’ve got to run,” he said as the limo eased to a stop. “Have dinner with me Friday night.”

     Gina was immediately hesitant.

     “I would prefer sooner,” Dutch went on, “but with my super-hectic schedule it can’t be any sooner.”
     “You work too hard,” Gina found herself saying.  “I used to always think that when I’d see you on television.”

     “You’re correct.  But it goes with the territory.  A car will meet you at the airport.  Chris will phone later with more details, but I’ve got to run.”

     “But wait a minute,” Gina said, panic seeping through her.  “I haven’t said yes.”

     “Then say it.”  She’d never know it, but Dutch was holding his breath.

     Gina rubbed her forehead.  Why she was always allowing herself to be suckered like this, she’d never know.  “Yes,” she said.

     He smiled relief.  “Chris will phone.  Take care of yourself.”

     “You too.”

     And just like that, what she thought was off and off forevermore, was on again.

TEN

Christian was in the limo that met her at the airport and the ride to the White House was a relaxing one.  Unlike that night at the hotel in Newark, or even their “meeting” that night after the awards ceremony, Gina didn’t feel the anxiety or pressure she used to feel.  Getting that bill vetoed certainly helped, especially when one of the reasons for the veto Dutch cited was that he would not sign a bill that balanced the budget on the backs of the poor and middle class without balancing revenues on the top earners as well.  And Herb
Montescue’s
big check helped, too.