Page 21 of Power
“In 1809 this room became the State Dining Room. Prior to that, it was smaller and rather neglected, not being used for much. President James Madison was the one who refurbished the room, but it wasn’t until 1902 when a renovation included expanding this room.”
“There was a seventeen-year age difference between President Madison and his wife, Dolley,” Ava says, surprising me with her knowledge. “Quite scandalous, don’t you think?” She chuckles. “Although, I’d have to be wearing flat shoes to be dancing with him, considering he was five foot four.”
“Your knowledge is impressive.”
“I’m quite well versed across a lot of areas.”
“I have no doubt. A master’s in economics, a master’s in political science, a minor in business analytics, and another minor in counseling. You’re an impressive woman.”
“You’ve done your research, too,” she says with a smile.
“I have, because one of the things I’d like to talk to you about is your Arms Act.”
“Of course, I’ve brought all the relevant research.”
The song finishes, and I let go of Ava, step back and bow while Ava gives me a small nod. “Thank you.” I offer my hand to guide her back to our table.
We make small talk as we head over to our table. I pull her chair out and wait for her to sit before I push her chair in. That’s when I see Reece stand and head out of the dining room. I shoot Mark a discreet look and gesture for him to go after her. “Grayson.” Mark flicks his gaze to Reece, then back to Grayson. They’re so good at being subtle that their stealth moves aren’t even noticed by anyone. “Mr. President,” Mark leans down and whispers.
“Excuse me.” I push back and stand. Mark walks ahead of me as we leave the dining room. “Where is she?”
“Grayson has her in the private library, sir.”
I hurriedly walk toward my library and open the door to find Reece pacing back and forth while Grayson stands by the exit, blocking her. “Give me the room,” I say to both Mark and Grayson.
“We can’t do this,” Reece says the moment the door is closed.
“Why are you here with him?”
“Arthur?” I lift my brows and stare at her. “Because I’m working, that’s why.”
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath as I lift my right hand to rub at the back of my neck. “You’re not to sleep with him.”
“Excuse me?” she replies, her voice an unpleasant shrill.
“You’re not to sleep with him,” I repeat a bit louder, in case she didn’t hear me.
“What I do outside of our time together is none of your business.”
I slam my hand on one of the shelves, making Reece jump back with a startle. “God damn it, Reece, you don’t flaunt him here under my fucking nose.”
“You don’t speak to me like that.” She points her finger at me just as the door swings open and Mark has his gun drawn. Reece’s eyes widen, and she takes a step backward, her hand on her chest.
Mark looks around the room, then turns his attention to me. He and I need to have a conversation about this, but right now, I need him out of the room. I jerk my head toward the door, and Mark backs out of the room, holstering his gun. I turn my attention back to Reece, who’s now on the opposite side of the room leaning against the wall her face drained of color. “Are you okay?”
“He was prepared to shoot me.” She shakes her head. “I can’t do this, Bennett.”
“I don’t want you to go home with him.”
Reece blinks several times as tears well in her eyes. “He was prepared to kill me.”
“I know. Mark and I need to have a conversation. But please.” I step closer to her, and she backs herself into the corner of the room. “Please don’t go home with him.”
Reece is looking down at the floor, softly shaking her head in disbelief. She wraps her arms around her body, shielding herself from what she realizes could have happened. Reece lifts her gaze and stares at me. “I can’t do this with you anymore.”
I try to reach out, but Reece avoids my touch by sliding past me and heading for the door. Without another word spoken between us, Reece walks out of my library. I take a moment to compose myself, then open the door. “Make sure Grayson stays close to her,” I instruct Mark, who relays my instructions through their internal comms.
I head back into the State Dining Room and sit beside Ava. There’s pleasant small talk going on around the table, which I add to but notice quickly that Arthur and Reece both stand and walk out of the dining room. Mark leans down and whispers, “She’s not feeling well.” I nod my understanding, and perfunctorily continue with the rest of the evening. But every single thought is of Reece and what she’s doing.
And I hate it.
