But that day may not come now. Because the President of the United States is engaged to be married. I don’t know whether to wear black or not that day. But I will say know one thing. That this handsome President with his bedroom eyes and 8-pack abs that we’ve all seen on camera can’t simply belong to one woman. I refuse to accept that such a national treasure can be hoarded by one woman. And by Ashley Draper? We don’t really know much about her anyways.
If that’s one thing official Washington has been wondering, it’s who exactly is Ashley Draper. We all know what we’ve been told. That she’s a close friend of the President that he met through mutual friends. But what does she do? Who did she do before the President? These are all questions that need to be answered.
Maybe it’ll be a fun summer after all.
Ashley
I’ve never had a baby, but I imagine this is how it feels to place your own child in the care of strangers.
“Yeah, Kayla. That’s how it’s going to be for the next year,” I say, placing my phone on speaker as I bring a bottle of Pinot Noir and a glass to the living room. I sit down on the couch and pour myself a glass as Kayla replies.
“Are you sure? We never run things without you…” she says, and I notice the apprehension in her voice.
“I trust you. You’ll do fine,” I reply, although I feel my heart tightening inside my chest. My company has been my baby for so long, and it hurts to let go of it. Still, there’s no way around. It needs to be done and, besides, I’m leaving my most experienced operative in charge.
Kayla Combs came on board during my first months of operation, and she quickly became my right hand. Older than me by a few years, she’s in her early thirties now, she brought some experience to the table when it came to handling business. While I focused on getting shit done in the field, Kayla handled everything else while, at the same time, she provided live support whenever I needed her to. More than that, she also took to the field a few times, and she did great. If there’s anyone I trust to run things in my absence, it's Kayla.
“I sure hope so,” she sighs. “I did as you told me to. I cleaned all records of your involvement with the company, so hopefully nothing will lead back to you. The press will be digging for dirt, but I think we did a good job in covering our tracks.”
“Good. One less headache.” Raising the glass, I swirl the wine around and then take a sip, the strong flavor of oak and morning rain embracing my taste buds.
“But … I gotta ask. Are you sure of this…? I mean, he’s the President. That kind of title comes with some baggage.”
“I know, Kayla,” I sigh. “But this is too good of a chance to pass.” $50 million, a $20 million bonus, plus a diamond ring worth more than a few thousand? Yeah, that’s the definition of a chance too good to pass.
“Got it, boss. Alright … there’s nothing left but to wish you good luck. I’ll do my best to keep things running smoothly while you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Kayla. Best of luck to you too,” I finish, and then shut down my phone and lean back against the couch. I’ve finally tied up all loose ends with my operatives, and I’m ready to fully devote myself to this new mission. Which, truth be told, should be easier than anything else I’ve done; I mean, all I gotta do is pretend I’m head over heels with a guy. I don’t even have to bother with seducing him. It’s all for show.
I rest my phone on top of the coffee table but, the moment I do it, it starts to buzz again. Laying my already empty glass of wine by its side, I pick it up and read Tracy’s name on the screen.
“Hey,” I say, putting the phone against my ear.
“Hi, Ashley. I’m calling you to let you know that the President is taking you to dinner tonight. It’s going to be your first public appearance as a couple, so make sure that you’re ready to dazzle the press.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m always ready to dazzle,” I tell her.
“I sure hope so,” she chuckles. “We’re counting on you,” she finishes off and then ends the call.
Stretching, I go up to my feet and yawn lazily. I was looking forward to a quiet evening, but what is a girl to do? I guess you don’t get to earn millions of dollars by sitting on your ass.
I put the cork back on the bottle of Pinot Noir and then head toward my bedroom. My eyes fa
ll over the engagement ring, sitting on the nightstand. God, that thing is ugly; it’s too large and too obvious. It just isn’t my style, not at all. But whatever, it’s not like I’ll have to wear that thing for too long.
If I’m not mistaken, Austin isn’t going to last one single month. Even if he impressed me with his little speech this afternoon, I know that it’s all a facade. He’s no different from any other man in DC, and I’ll be surprised if he lasts more than a month without ‘cheating’ on me. Not that I care; it’ll just make it easier for me to earn my money.
“Alright, let’s get ready,” I whisper to myself as I undress, throwing my dress and underwear on top of the bed. I step inside the bathroom and turn the water on; I test it with the back of my hand and, once it’s warm enough, I step inside the shower stall and throw my head back. I close my eyes and run my fingers through my hair as the warm water caresses my naked body, my muscles relaxing from the day’s stress.
I sure would prefer to have a date with my bottle of Pinot Noir this evening, but I guess I’ve got to try and be optimistic about the whole thing: as much of an asshole as Austin might be, at least he’s good looking. Some of my previous marks were men that I’d classify as an eyesore, so I’ll take Austin as an improvement.
Okay, sure, to say he’s an improvement is putting it lightly. Austin is probably the most handsome man I’ve ever met. To think that he holds the most powerful office in this country (and on this planet) is almost unbelievable; I mean, he’d look good playing the President on some Hollywood movie, but c’mon! How does a man like him end up leading this country?
I can’t say I’m surprised he has such a reputation. Powerful and handsome, he must turn all women’s panties into a wet mess whenever he enters a room. I know it because it happened to me. What? Don’t act all judgmental on me. Just because I don’t appreciate politicians, that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate their bodies. And Austin has exactly the kind of body I like to appreciate…
God, just thinking of it is enough to make me feel all tingly. Chomping on my lower lip, I place my hands over my breasts and give them a squeeze, feeling my nipples harden against the palm of my hands. I let one hand slide down and over my stomach, and then I hold my breath as I reach for my clit with two fingers. I press down on it, and electricity shoots up my spine as I do it.
I wonder how Austin looks under those tailored suits of his … I can already imagine cords of muscles moving under his arms and shoulders, his strong chest topping a wall of abs as hard as stone … I bet he has the kind of abs that women just can’t resist licking. And more than that, I bet he’s also hiding something pretty impressive between his legs. How do I know? Well, it’s just a woman’s guess.