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He makes me smile too much.
Me: Going to have to arrest me?
Reese: If I tried, you’d probably be able to wiggle away.
My breath is shaky, like the air has gone out of the Residence’s kitchen, and it takes me a moment to recenter myself. He’s not flirting with you, Brennan.
Me: How’d the drill go? Did you save the president?
Reese: I did. She lived to teach ethics tomorrow morning and score the next round of our marksmanship quals.
Me: She’s an instructor?
Reese: Yeah. A good one. She taught me when I first came through the academy. She thought I was a knucklehead, and told me so, and still thinks it’s wild that I’m running the detail these days.
Reese is as far from a knucklehead as I could imagine a man to be.
Me: Do you get a chance to go out while you’re there? Have dinner, have a drink?
Reese: A lot of the guys do. They went out tonight, but I’m wiped. I ate in the cafeteria with the trainees.
Dancing dots again.
Reese: One of the only good things about coming out here for training is there’s a damn good Cajun place nearby. I’ll grab dinner there at least twice. Maybe three times.
Me: Now I’m really jealous.
Reese: Christa can whip up some Cajun food for you. She’s not half bad, for someone not from the bayou.
Christa Delos Santos is the executive chef at the White House, and in addition to planning and preparing the meals for every state function and overseeing the kitchen staff, she’s in charge of personally cooking all my meals.
Or she would be, if I hadn’t quietly asked her for that responsibility back.
Me: I’m cooking for myself these days. Is that something else not in your file?
The stunned silence from his end is palpable.
Reese: It’s not. I have to say, I’m impressed at your evasive skills.
Me: No evasion. I asked to do it. She gives me recipes and ingredients most days, but there are also times I’m left to improvise.
Reese: So you like to cook?
Me: I do. And Matt is kind enough to take my leftovers for lunch.
Reese:Lucky guy.
Me: Would you like some leftovers?
Reese: Lunch is more of a conceptual thing to the Service. I’ve heard other people eat it, but can’t say I’ve ever had the time to.
Have lunch with me.I want to say it. We could eat on the patio off the Oval, behind the wisteria and the climbing roses. I could hear your laughter in the sunshine.
Reese: What did you make for dinner?
The remnants of my salmon and spinach salad are cold, and I mostly picked at the plate. Still, I snap a photo and send it to Reese.
Reese: Very healthy. Looks better than the mystery meat and mashed veggies I ate.
