“Got it,” Barrett replied.
“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have damage control for your premature engagement announcement to attend to,” James said. He and Bernie then got onto one of the waiting elevators. I hated the feeling that I had already disappointed Senator Callahan. Technically, it had been Barrett’s idea, but I wasn’t five. I was fully capable of saying no.
As we started to our hotel room, I smacked Barrett’s arm. “Hey, what was that for?” he demanded.
I scowled at him. “Being a bad influence. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to go out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for corrupting you, Miss Goody Two-Shoes,” Barrett replied playfully.
“I’m not a goody two-shoes. I just hate letting your father down.”
“Hmm, I guess that would make you a suck-up or brownnoser.”
“Excuse me for wanting to do the right thing for your father’s campaign.”
Barrett took the key card out of his pocket. “You are by agreeing to be my ball and chain for the next nine months.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
He grinned, which actually broke the ice a little. What I’d just experienced had been quite terrifying, to be honest. “What do you say we turn on the television and see what they’re saying about us? Considering that epic on-the-spot performance I gave, I’m dying to see an instant replay.”
I snatched the bag of cannolis from him, which had somehow miraculously made it back with us. “I think I’m going to need a few more of these to make it through seeing that.”
ADDISON
On Monday morning, I woke up for the last time in the Jefferson, and my wake-up call came at the ungodly hour of five AM. It was even more ungodly because of the fact that I had just gotten to sleep around two AM—I’d been too nervous about my first day on the campaign trail to sleep. The what-ifs had plagued me, my mind bombarding me with the most paranoid of scenarios.
After my trial by fire with the media, the rest of the weekend had been pretty inconsequential. I had been really worried about being called a homewrecker, but somehow, that hadn’t even been an issue. We studied the answers to our relationship homework so we wouldn’t have any slipups at future interviews. While I went through the stuff I needed to take with me verses the extra stuff I didn’t need to take with me, Barrett caught up on emails and paperwork. I had to give him credit that he really did take his work seriously, to a level of extreme perfectionism. That I could actually admire.
We even managed to break out on Saturday afternoon to go to the movies. Of course, the moment we exited the hotel, the cameras came out in full force. Although Barrett always instructed me to act natural, the moment a lens became trained on me, I overthought every move I made. “Hey, Mr. Roboto, think you could lighten up a bit?” Barrett had joked.
“I’m sorry. You seem to forget that while you’ve had cameras on you since you were a child, this is still new to me,” I had countered.
By Sunday when we went out for brunch, I had begun to look less like the Tin Man. I even managed to smile at the reporters who called my name while peppering Barrett and me with questions. Regardless of my worries, James set me at ease by texting me to say he was loving all the positive stories already floating around in the media.
After my shower, I came out of the bathroom in my new designer robe, compliments of Everett. Actually, it was one of three new robes I now had. I wasn’t sure how robes translated into campaign wear, but I wasn’t going to argue with him. The luxurious fabric put the sad, ratty bathrobe I had at home to shame.
A knock sounded at the door. While I hoped it would be room service with breakfast, I figured it was Saundra, the makeup artist and hair stylist who had been assigned to Barrett and me. She had come to the hotel yesterday to do a practice run with me, and she would be traveling around the country with us to do Barrett’s and my hair, along with my makeup. Yes, it seemed a little ridiculous that Barrett needed someone to do his hair, but apparently, it was part of the political campaign territory.
Once I’d checked the peephole, I opened the door. “Good morning, Saundra.”
“Good morning to you as well, Miss Monroe.”
Wrinkling my nose at her formality, I said, “Please, call me Addison.”
She smiled. “Okay then. Good morning to you, Addison.”
After returning her smile, I said, “Are you ready to transform me?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
While Saundra set up in the bathroom, I slipped into the red suit Everett had picked out for me to wear. At first, I had balked when he mentioned me wearing suits. To me, that sounded way too matronly, but thankfully, he had shown me a lot of power suits that didn’t look like I’d stepped off the set of Dynasty with killer shoulder pads and giant buttons.
The first day’s ensemble had a very youthful look. Whenever I turned left and right, the bottom of the skirt flared around my knees, giving the suit an overall fun, flirty feel. I soon became way too amused by watching my floating hemline.
“Good morning.”
As I jumped out of my skin, my hand flew to my chest to still my erratically beating heart. “You scared the hell out of me!” I threw a murderous glance at Barrett over my shoulder. “Did you ever hear of knocking?”
“I did knock, but you were too busy twirling to hear it.”
“I was not twirling.”