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Dan shook his head. “Dragon, neither your name or family jewels belong in the same sentence with ‘simple’.”
“On that note,”—Tess’s interruption, like her smile, was overly bright—“let’s talk ‘jewels’ of different sorts? Perhaps the young entrepreneurs coming to see you two tonight?”
Tracy smiled, though her own look was forced. She’d hang by her toenails before admitting it, but the men’s conversation was the most invigorating debate she’d witnessed in the last six months. The confession, though secret, also brought the guilt. Craig Nichols had bucked everyone on Capitol Hill when appointing her Vice President after a golf course heart attack struck down Duane Sanford. Sure, she was the surprise darling on the Hill after arriving less than two years ago, refusing to leave until after everyone had listened to her case for foreign security reform, but besides her passion and persistence, she was also young and inexperienced.
Translation: a thoroughly unconventional choice to replace the elder statesman.
And yes, despite her fast friendship with the president and first lady, she’d nearly turned Craig down. In the end, she’d set up camp on the opposite end of that spectrum, determined not to let her leader down—even if that included a lot of boring meetings with a lot of boring old guys looking at a lot of boring chart vectors. At this very second, it also meant she got the jollies from listening to her high school buddy and his chum, “The Dragon”, invoke their guy parts as conversation reference.
But even as the vice president, she couldn’t just order them to get back to the subject—even if the crowd for tonight’s event was some of the good stuff. Despite her already-shot nerves about it, she was damn glad she’d come. Events like tonight, where she’d meet a combination of high-tech gurus and young innovators, made the job worth it. This crowd represented the private sector’s investment in public education, especially programs blending the arts and technology. Luke himself was proof of the strategy’s success, but she’d gotten lucky in finding teachers and schools open to the concept. When corporations across the country embraced the concept more, the results would be spectacular—a hope strong enough to make her push past the stage fright one more time.
One more time.
The mantra always got her through the ordeal—partly because she was stupid enough to believe it, partly because it was better than pulling her head out of the toilet long enough to get on stage and sweat through a bunch of rehearsed lines.
“Excellent idea, my ruby.” Dan stroked a gentle hand through her lush red curls. He glanced to Sol. “You know if they have a private room around here? The vice president and I just need a few minutes to compare notes.”
Sol nodded succinctly. “We’ll find something, but first things first. Madame Vice President, we have to apprise you of a minor change in plans.”
Minor? Was that why the man’s face shifted into Bruce Lee mode? That was what she, Gem, and Ronnie called it when Sol went übertense. “Deep breath, Sol. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
“Of course we will.” He raised expectant brows at his friends, choosing to end with Mr. Mystery S Name. “Which is why I’ll let Mr. Bommer take it from here.”
Mr. Bommer.
ShayBommer.
Tracy didn’t let them see her exhalation of relief. Better late than never. “Good enough. Lay it on me, Shay.”
Bommer’s lips spread, exposing a boyish grin. Even he was pleased she’d remembered. All too rapidly, the look sobered into something more diplomatic. “I’ve come to apologize to you in person, Mrs. Rhodes.”
Tracy frowned. “Apologize? What for?”
“As you know, Mr. Wrightman and I have been working in tandem, coordinating your heightened local security needs for tonight. I was slotted to take the lead on all operations, but am afraid there’s another lady who must take precedence for me.”
Tracy tilted her head, already sensing what he’d say. “That’s all right, Shay. I get it.”
His face crunched. “You do?”
“Sure. Didn’t I see Arianna Grande’s back in town for a week or so down the street?”
Bommer chuckled. “She’s sweet but not my style.”
“Don’t say.” She tossed a defined glance down to the man’s wedding ring. The band gleamed so brightly, she could imagine him polishing it every morning. That was all the invitation the guy needed. Out came his phone, and an image of a woman with large, dark eyes and a bigger, rounder belly.
“My wife, Zoe,” he clarified.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She’s also in labor.” His expression sobered entirely too fast. “Two and a half months early.”
As his face drowned under more troubled waters, Tracy instinctively reached for his hand. “And everything will be just fine.”
His reciprocal grip was full of gratitude. “Yeah, I know. She’s barely dilated but this is our second, and delivery on our first was—”
“Difficult?” she filled in after a beat of tense silence.
“It was…an adventure. Let’s say that much.”
