Queen Move

“Not one of the normal people, I gather.” I cross the office to sit down on the couch and pat the cushion beside me. “Come tell Mama all the things.”

When she walks over and sits, her dress pulls taut over her middle, revealing a little baby bump.

“Oh my God!” I touch the small mound, breaking pregnant lady etiquette because that’s my godchild in there. “Look at our little peanut.”

Her grin widens and her gray eyes light up. “I know. I’ve never been so happy about gaining weight.”

“I bet Maxim is crazy protective and over the moon.”

“All of the above and more. He’s ecstatic. We both are.” She rubs a hand over the little bump lovingly, her expression softening. “But it’s happening when there’s so much pressure, so much scrutiny, and people underfoot all the time. It feels like I’m rarely alone, much less alone with Maxim.”

She glances around the office, furnished with items we chose together when we first opened our political consulting firm. “I kinda miss normal life.”

“Fuck normal. We are not normal chicks.” I relax into the corner of the sofa and cross my legs. “We are in the League of Extraordinary Bitches. You hear me? You are the first Native American First Lady this country’s ever had. Damn right it’s pressure. Your agenda is the most ambitious we’ve ever seen from a First Lady, so yeah, it’s hard, but you’ve got this.”

When she first announced that her agenda was simply women, everyone asked her to elaborate. Just…women? Equal pay for women. Reforming maternity rights for women. Secondary education for women. She has assembled the Cabinet on Women’s Empowerment, a body of experts who craft programs and solicit support from the corporate sector to partner with government initiatives.

“I’m so glad you’re on the CWE,” Lennix says, blowing out a breath. “I wish you’d reconsider the position Maxim offered you in his cabinet, though, so you’d be around the White House even more.”

“As tempting as Chief of Staff is, it’s like a desk job when I need to be in the field. This is where I belong. I want to be in the trenches and continuing the work we set out to do.”

“I get it,” Lennix says, almost wistfully. “You know how hard it was for me to walk away from our mission.”

“You didn’t walk away. You are doing our mission on a scale we never could have imagined.” I waggle my eyebrows. “Speak to power? Honey, you sleep with power. When your baby’s daddy is the leader of the free world, I’d call that on mission.”

“I can’t complain.” Lennix laughs throatily, leaning back and resting her head on the couch. “Except it’s you, and you’re my best friend so you have to let me complain.”

“Yup. Part of the job description.” I wag a finger at her. “But so is telling you the truth. You are exactly where you belong and where you can do the most good right now. You have everything to be grateful for.” I tip my head toward the closed door. “Other than Robocop out there acting like a bloodhound, sniffing for bombs under my Queen Anne desk. What’s up with Mr. High Alert?”

“Like I said…” She smiles and shakes her head. “He’s new. I do get tired of the constant Secret Service presence, but I get it. And they are so over the top now that the word is out I’m pregnant.”

“We haven’t had a baby in the White House since…” I frown, thinking back. “Wow. Since the Kennedys.”

“Yeah, we’re hoping for a better ending,” she says dryly. “Thus all the hyper protection. There’s like four more where Hal came from out in the lobby.”

“Oh, I bet Carla is salivating. You know she loves a big man.”

Right on cue, a knock comes and my assistant pokes her head around the door. There’s a flush on her pale cheeks and her purple hair is slightly disheveled like she’s run her fingers through it.

“Should I feed those men out there?” she whispers. “I could order lunch for everyone.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lennix says. “I’m not staying long, but thank you, Carla.”

“Don’t rush off,” Carla says, her cheeks going pinker. “Really. It’s no trouble.”

“Don’t get distracted by all those muscles,” I warn playfully, “and miss my delivery.”

“It just came.” Carla’s grin is abashed. “Should I bring it in?”

“Sure. Thanks, lady.” I rub my hands together. “This is the dress I’m wearing to the awards ceremony in Atlanta. My family’s foundation is honoring community leaders.”

I always make sure our foundation has plenty of donations, but my limited hands-on involvement has been a sore point. My mother insisted I attend this event, and I’m actually looking forward to it.

Carla walks back through the door carrying a huge brown box. I gesture toward the work table on the other side of my office, thanking her as she leaves. Once the box is laid out, I tear through the packaging to find another box inside, this one white, emblazoned with the word gLo, and tied with a wide purple ribbon.

“I didn’t know it was one of Lotus Ross’ designs,” Lennix breathes, touching the silk bow. “You guys know each other?”

“We met at the Image Awards not too long ago. She’s a riot. You’d love her.”