The Reluctant First Lady (16 page)

Geoffrey knew he’d cornered her. Good manners and being the head of the museum demanded she accept his offer to dance. He didn’t care how he managed it; he wanted her in his arms. He wanted to smell her and feel her body next to his. He wanted a lot more from Ashley, but he was willing to wait. She stimulated him in a way other women didn’t. She argued and challenged him. He was used to being catered to and agreed with by other women. He’d made his fortune by using cool logic and taking calculated risks, but for what he had in mind for Ashley, he needed to act as nonchalant as possible. He wasn’t too sure how easily she spooked or what might make her treat him like a piranha.

The orchestra began playing a slow song as Geoffrey led Ashley out onto the dance floor. He took her into his arms and held her closer than she obviously wanted because she adjusted the distance between them immediately. Easy, just take it easy. He kept saying it like a mantra. He intended to see her again, and there would be other opportunities to find out just how deep her passions went. For now, he needed to win her trust and friendship.

“I apologize if I offended you. I know the decision you made must have been very hard for you. I’m sure you felt pulled in a million different directions. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did. I admire courage even though I don’t share your opinion. I’m sure it would have been a lot easier to just give in to your husband’s wishes.”

Maybe she underestimated Geoffrey. He seemed to grasp the difficulty of the dilemma she had faced. “It was literally the hardest decision of my life.”

A flash and a soft whirring sound interrupted their conversation. A photographer from one of the New York papers—actually the same photographer who had been outside her apartment building—had just captured two of the country’s most well-known personalities dancing together. The photographer’s mind was already racing with ideas about a caption for the picture. He was sure the paper would run it—a notorious playboy and the Reluctant First Lady dancing without a husband or a girlfriend in sight. Well, well.

As the song came to an end, Ashley stepped back. “Thank you for the dance.”

“Thank you. Good luck surviving the storm of publicity.”

“I think I’m going to need more than luck although I appreciate the thought. Again, thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” Ashley smiled.

Leaning toward Ashley and speaking in a conspirator’s tone, he whispered, “I think the best part of my evening just ended. It’s bound to be all downhill from here, I’m afraid.”

He watched her as she walked away from him. He thought he could get very used to watching her walk toward him. He thought about their conversation, how her temper flared and her attempt to keep it under control, how direct she was in regards to her current publicity nightmare. There was no doubt he would see her again. An idea was already taking shape like molded clay.

He knew the cost of pursuing her openly. They were both extremely high-profile personalities; anything he did would be noticed and recorded by the media. Plus, she was married to the next president of the United States. He was playing with fire; he knew that. It only made the chase that much more exhilarating. Was it worth it? He wouldn’t know for sure until he got a little closer.

22

The next morning, Ashley awoke begrudgingly. She sighed, wishing she didn’t have to get up. She lay in bed trying to chase away her vivid dreams, which she’d rather enjoyed, but it was time to face another day with its new set of challenges. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the day once she got up; it was the getting up part that was so hard, especially when the warmth of the bed was so inviting.

Once she was vertical, her thoughts turned immediately to the events of the previous night. The fund-raiser had been a success, another bullet dodged. The money received from the reservation fees alone had totaled over six and a half million dollars. That pleased her; however, the actual amount donated from the event wouldn’t truly be known until the individual donations from all of the patrons had been collected. She knew many of the museum’s benefactors would send checks before the end of the year to be sure they could claim their donation as a tax write-off. It wouldn’t be until after the first of the year that she would have an accurate picture of the true success of last night’s affair.

Ashley stretched one last time as she made her way into the kitchen. First the essentials: hot coffee, an English muffin, and the morning paper. She still wanted to read an actual newspaper in the morning although the rest of the time she read the news on her laptop. She mused about how anyone could function without a morning cup of coffee. Didn’t they need a champion to chase away the urge to crawl back into bed? That first sip of hot, fragrant coffee comforted her soul. She swore the feeling of warmth that flowed through her body and loosened her neck and shoulder muscles was one of the closest parallels to a spa treatment a person could have.

As she waited for her coffee to finish brewing, she went to retrieve the morning paper. Sitting down with her coffee and English muffin, she separated the society section from the rest of the paper. Staring back at her on the front page of the society section was a picture of her and Geoffrey Carruthers dancing. The picture captured what appeared to be a very intimate moment, which it most definitely was not. The worst part was the caption underneath the photograph: “America’s playboy, Geoffrey Carruthers, and the Reluctant First Lady, Mrs. Ashley Taylor, dance among the stars.” The article that followed did an excellent job of covering last night’s event. It was good publicity for the museum. What galled her was the caption under the picture; it was so misleading.

Damn. She felt a sense of dread. Certainly Michael’s press secretary and his staff would be monitoring the major newspapers around the country and, in particular, the New York papers. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that if this picture of her dancing with Geoffrey wasn’t in Michael’s hands already, it soon would be. Great. One more thing to worry about.

Unfortunately she knew this type of thing was only the beginning. How did one adjust to being relatively unknown one day and a high-priority news item the next? The rehabilitation centers and graveyards were filled with those to whom success and celebrity came suddenly, like a flash flood, and who were unable to cope. It would be so easy to lose one’s way, especially if there were no lighthouse or homing beacon, in whatever form, to keep one grounded and safely off the rocks.

By the time Ashley arrived at the museum, all traces of last night’s affair had been removed. All the planning, the work, the worries, and execution had been stripped away and discarded after one shining evening of success. She always felt the same each year the day after the fund-raiser. Peggy Lee’s old song “Is That All There Is?” came to mind. She had to be careful not to be overly dramatic. It seemed as though with most of life’s big events, there was a huge emotional buildup, the excitement of the event, then just a whimper afterwards.
Jeez, Ash, get a grip.

She asked Mavis and Kathy at the same time, “Okay, on a scale of one to ten, how’s the day going so far?”

Without looking up from her work, Mavis said, “We’ve been pretty busy, but we’re very glad the Grand Old Fund-Raiser is behind us.”

“Me, too. Maybe now we can get back to our regular work routine that has been slip-slidin’ away.” Ashley broke into song for the past part of her declaration.

At her desk, Ashley took out her iPhone and pulled up her calendar while calling Robert to schedule the meeting he mentioned the night before. Now she had time to be curious about why he wanted to meet with her.

Robert’s secretary answered the phone. “Hey, Pamela, it’s Ashley. Is Robert available? He asked me to call.”

“I’ll check. Heard everything went well last night, yeah? I wouldn’t have you upsetting him.” This was said in a very stern voice and a lovely Irish accent.

“Who, me? Upset Robert? Really, Pamela, you should be worried about him upsetting me. Whatever would make you think I’m a troublemaker?” Ashley laughed.

“Don’t be putting me on; I read the newspaper, don’t you know. Hang on and I’ll get him for you.” Pamela put her on hold.

Robert’s deep voice came on the line immediately. “How’s my favorite muse this morning? You did it again. I’ve already received half a dozen calls complimenting you on last night’s affair.”

“Glad you’re pleased. Even though it’s an irritating cliché, you know it takes a village, blah, blah, blah.”

“Well, every village needs its muse, and you’re mine.”

“I promised I’d call so we could set up that meeting. How urgent is it?”

“Nothing terribly urgent but definitely something I want to talk to you about.”

“You want to give me a hint?”

“I’d rather talk about it in person. I know with Christmas coming up and then the inauguration on the horizon, you’re undoubtedly swamped right now. Why don’t we set up a meeting for some time at the end of January or the first of February?”

“If it can wait that long, it’d be a big help. I’m trying to wrap up things here at the museum. I’m planning to leave for Washington the week before Christmas, and I won’t be returning until after the inauguration. Max will be in charge during my absence. You know, he’s a curator worth his weight in gold. I would not have been able to take off so much time during Michael’s campaign without having Max to back me up. How’s the first week in February look for you?”

“Right now, it looks fine. How about February seventh at ten in the morning?” Robert asked.

“I’m making a notation on my calendar as we speak.”

“I’m doing the same. Listen, Ashley, I hope you’re able to put the museum out of your mind while you’re in Washington.”

“I intend to try and do just that. I trust Max completely. He’s one you should keep your eye on. I’m excited and looking forward to the swearing-in ceremony. It’s such a historic and momentous occasion for Michael, our family, and the country. I’m so proud of him; he’ll be a wonderful president. I don’t think people truly realize what a great man he is. He’s everything this country needs. Just wait until you see him in action.”

“I know how proud you are of Michael, and I think you’re right—he’s exactly what this country needs right now.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the good news, Robert. We’ve already taken in over six and half million dollars from the Black Tie Dinner. When I get back, I’ll have a more accurate picture of the money raised from last night’s event.

“Are you and Audrey getting out of the city for the holidays?” Ashley asked.

“Yes, we’re planning to spend the holidays at our home in Vermont. All of the kids and grandkids are coming home for Christmas, and we always look forward to being with all of them. How about your family? Will you be together at Christmas this year?”

“That’s the plan. Jeremy and Juliette are coming to Washington for Christmas; then of course, they’ll be back for the inauguration.”

“I’ll be watching with the rest of the country and the world, so behave yourself,” Robert joked.

“I’ll do my best. See you in February.”

That night, when Ashley was back in her apartment and nestled into her comfy chair, she punched in Michael’s private number. She was hoping for a nice, long chat with her husband. Unfortunately his message machine came on.

“Hi, honey. I just wanted to touch base with you about my arrangements to return to Washington. I have about a month off. I was planning to come next week and stay until after the inauguration. I’m looking forward to spending time with you even though I know you’ll be extremely busy.

“The fund-raiser went off without a hitch, thank goodness. The only thing missing was you, and I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty; I just miss you. Call me if you get a chance. I hope you’re holding up under all the pressure. I can’t imagine all the meetings and briefings you must be having. Hope to talk to you soon. I love you.”

23

Michael listened to Ashley’s voice on his message machine after the phone rang, but he was in no mood to deal with her so didn’t pick up. Instead he sat in his favorite chair looking at the press clipping of his wife dancing in the arms of none other than Geoffrey Carruthers. He didn’t trust himself to keep the anger out of his voice. Where Ashley was concerned, he knew he lost his ability to be reasonable. He was far too jealous where she was concerned, but he’d always tried to hide it. To no one, he said, “Yeah, I’ll just bet she missed me. It sure didn’t look like it from the picture in the newspaper. You and Geoffrey looked way too cozy.”

He’d been working in his office when Jack dropped the press clipping on his desk. He appeared unaffected in front of Jack; in fact, he was furious and seething inside. Not only was his wife not with him, she was on the front page of the society section dancing with one of the world’s best-known playboys, and the caption underneath the picture was irresponsible journalism at its best. The caption insinuated something was going on between his wife and Geoffrey Carruthers, which he knew in his heart was not the case. To make matters worse, the reporter had used a moniker, “the Reluctant First Lady”; the nickname was bound to stick and be picked up by other newspapers and the media.

He knew he was being unfair. Ashley was most certainly performing her duties as the director of the museum; it was part of her job. He couldn’t fault her for that. It was this crazy world where the media started rumors deliberately to sell their product without assuming any of the responsibility to the people they slandered. They didn’t care what potential damage and pain they might cause with their innuendos and lies.

Still, it hurt. He wanted Ashley with him to share his presidency, not in another town living a separate life from him. Yet, to be fair, he knew he didn’t have the right to insist she follow him when he was unwilling to do the same for her. She was right when she reminded him that they’d lived apart for years when he was in Congress and the Senate.

He was looking forward to having Ashley with him for a solid month. Maybe she’d see that living in Washington wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d realize how much they were missing by not being together on a daily basis; just maybe she would come to her senses. Yeah, right. That was a hell of a lot of maybes.