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Jamie looked at the floor, the royal blue carpeting with its giant Seal of the President at his feet. “Do I get time to warn Chris about it first?”
“We were going to put it out first thing tomorrow. If he has any objections or—” she lowered her voice “—if he wants to back out, he has until nine A.M.”
Jamie nodded. This was the worst thing about being the president’s son—much of his life was under constant scrutiny. He could handle it, but he’d forgotten that Chris might not. Entering a relationship with James Thomas Barratt put you under scrutiny also, and not everyone wanted or needed that. Jamie hoped that Chris could hack it. He hoped with every fiber of his soul—they had been through too much for it to break down at this.
His mother leaned forward and covered his uninjured hand with her own. “I hope you get what you want, honey. I only ever want to see you happy. Lord knows you deserve it.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, mom. I appreciate that.”
* * * *
Chris walked out of Foster’s office and took a deep breath as Natalie closed the door behind them.
“What just happened in there?” he asked.
“You kept your job by the skin of your teeth,” Natalie replied, fishing her phone from her pocket and turning it on—it immediately started a tirade of beeping as she received all the messages and emails.
“I was sure, when I walked in there this morning, that I was going to have to start job hunting again.”
Nat’s thumb scrolled quickly through her messages, “Well, you owe me big time, Roberts. Nobody but me and Jamie knew about me and Jamie—I used that to throw you a lifeline, so you better appreciate it.”
“Oh, I do,” Chris replied genuinely. “If there is anything I can do to repay you…”
Nat looked up from her phone, head cocked to the side, studying him for a second. “Actually, thereisone thing you could do that would set you on your way.”
“What’s that?”
“Your friend Andy? Jamie drunkenly introduced us at his birthday party, and we managed to talk for a few minutes. He seemed like a really nice guy.”
Chris raised his eyebrows. “You want his number?”
“Actually, I want you to give himmynumber. I’m putting the ball in his court. He has to decide if he can handleme.”
He laughed and grinned at her. “I’m not sureanyonecould handle you, Natalie.”
She grinned back. “You’d be surprised.” She glanced down at her phone. “And apparently, your boyfriend is waiting to hear your good news, or so Phil Coulter tells me. Jamie’s on the terrace—I’ll take you.”
* * * *
Jamie watched Boomer race across the lawn in the Rose Garden as he popped open the cap on his bottle of Tylenol 3 and dry swallowed one while leaning on the wall for support. He felt like he hadn’t been outside for days, and even the city air of Washington DC was better than being stuck indoors.
Somebody cleared their throat behind him.
Jamie turned to find Chris standing just outside of the French doors, Coulter retreating inside. Chris’s tie was loosened, top button undone, and he was smiling. Jamie straightened up. “Hey!”
“Hey.”
“How did it go?”
“Well,” Chris said mildly. “Against all the odds, it looks like I still have a job.”
“That’s amazing!” Jamie replied with relief.
“Yeah,” agreed Chris with a smile. “Natalie saved my ass in there.”
“Really?”
Chris nodded.
