Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning to the sun shining through the window straight into my eyes. What a wonderful way to start the morning by being blinded. I rubbed my eyes sleepily and squirmed down deeper into the covers. The sun was no longer shining in my eyes but I wasn’t comfortable. I arched my back as I pushed myself back up, turning myself sideways in the bed. I yawned.

The letter.

Why did this have to be the first thought in my head? I wanted to facepalm myself but decided against it. Instead, I laid there, trying to ignore the urging feeling to get up and read it for the millionth time.

“No,” I said, my voice firm. My brain didn’t stop telling me to get up.

Fine. I’d consented. I stood up and stretched before walking to the window. I looked down on the gorgeous green lawn and sighed.

Turning back around, I grabbed the letter and read it as fast as I could to get over and done with. My brain yelled at me to slow down and focus but I put the letter down before I was even done.

“I just have to get my mind of the letter,” I muttered. I walked to the bureau and quickly changed into a fresh uniform. I grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulder out of habit. I walked to the door, my hand on the knob, but stopped.

The letter.

I sighed and walked over to the nightstand. I grabbed it and folded it up before tucking it into my bag. I opened the door, walked past Cassandra and continued down the hallway. I decide to take the stairs and headed past the elevators. I jogged down them and jumped over the last two. I glanced behind me for a split second to see Cassandra descending the

stairs.

At least she was giving me my space.

I wind my way through the lobby, following the path Cassandra and I took yesterday to get to the kitchen. Something in my bag vibrates and I pull my phone out. The screen reads, “Annie.”

The inner debate began. I only had a handful of rings to decide if I wanted to answer or not. I’d been trying to get a hold of Annie for a few days because I’d been bored and wanted to talk to somebody. Now I wasn’t so sure about talking to her. I didn’t know what I was allowed to say and what I couldn’t.

I decided to answer it.

“Hey,” I said, putting the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Red!” she about screamed in my ear. I pulled the phone away for a second, my ear ringing. “Guess what?”

“What?” I asked. I spotted Cassandra out of the corner of my eye and quickened my pace.

She was catching up to me and for now, I just wanted to be alone.

“You’re supposed to guess,” she instructed.

“Um… your dad bought you a car,” I randomly guessed.

“That would be great but no, that’s not it,” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “Guess again!”

“Look, Annie, I’m sorry but,” I went to say but was cut off.

“I’m going on a tour of the White House!” she squealed into my ear.

“Oh, wow. The White House? That’s—big,” I swallowed. “When’s your tour?”

“Oh, I’m on it right now,” she answered excitedly.

“I thought phone’s weren’t allowed in there,” I said. I looked back and saw Cassandra had fallen behind again. I scanned the area ahead of me, trying to keep out of the way or tour groups.

“Only in the West Wing. We aren’t allowed in there,” she explained.

“Hey, Annie, I have to go,” I said quickly. I was just a few hundred yards away from the West Wing and then I’d be safe.

“Oh, okay. Um… call me later, ’kay?”

“Yeah. Bye,” I hung up and tucked my phone back into my bag. A large tour group was getting closer to me and my heart started to race.

It’s not Annie’s group, just calm down. I told myself.

I walked past them, keeping my head down. A flash of red hair caught my eye and I couldn’t stop myself from looking.

Annie.

My heart pounded in my ear. Annie looked over and our eyes met. Her face clouded with confusion and she began to push through the group to get to me. I quickened my pace once again but I heard her running after me.

“Red,” she grabbed my arm, stopping me. “What are you doing here?”

I looked at her, trying my best to look confused. “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

I yanked my arm free and continued to walk but she fell into step beside me.

“Redlynne Riding,” she said, her voice low. “I know it’s you.”

“Duh, it’s me!” I snapped. If there was one thing I couldn’t take it was people being annoying. “Do you think there’s just some random clone of me walking around the White House in my school uniform?”

She was taken back, shocked. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know what I can tell you, I muttered.

“You can trust me,” she said, her eyes seeking mine.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the closest room which happened to be the bathroom. An older women was drying her hands when we entered. Her eyes widened with concern when she saw me dragging Annie behind me.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked, trying to be casual.

“I’m fine,” she said as she edged around us and left. I released Annie and she started talking nonstop.

“Why are you here? Why can’t you tell me? You can trust me, I promise,” she would have gone on but I put a hand over her mouth to stop her.

She got the message and shut up so I removed my hand. I pushed on each stall door, making sure no one was in them before turning to her.

“My dad died and I have to take his spot,” I summarized.

“Your dad is the manager of Walmart. Why are you in the White House?” she pushed. “Instead of in school in London.”

“My dad was President Riding,” I said. She stared at me, her eyes wide.

“You lied to me,” she whispered.

“I lied to a lot of people,” I growled. “Too many people.”

She stared at me, her eyes filling up with tears. “You lied too..”

“Just stop,” I yelled. Her mouth quivered. “I don’t have time to explain it all to you because I don’t even know but when I do—I promise, you’ll be the first I tell.”

She nodded.

“Call me tonight,” I instructed her. I slipped out of the bathroom and came face to face with Cassandra and a group of bodyguards., guns leveled at me.

“What did you tell her?” One growled. Cassandra’s arms were folded over her chest.

“Nothing,” I said, pushing through the group.

Cassandra made a hand signal and the group disbanded, disappearing back into the crowd as she fell into step beside me.

“I thought she’d threatened you or something,” she explained.

“I can take care of myself,” I sneered.

“And I don’t doubt that but it’s my job to make sure the danger never gets close to you,” she explained.

“I don’t need a million guards trailing me everywhere I go,” I said.

“Who was that?” she asked, hooking her thumb over her shoulder at the bathroom. I glanced back to see Annie slip out of the bathroom and hurry back to her group.

“An old friend,” I said vaguely.

“Can she be trusted?”

“I don’t know. You tell me,” I snapped.

She sighed, frustrated. “I need more details than that.”

“Her name is Annie Fitz. She used to be next door to me at school and then her parents moved here for a better job or whatever,” I told her.

“We’ll look into it more,” Cassandra said.

I rolled my eyes. Everything seemed to be a little over the top.

The smell of bacon washed over me the second I stepped inside the kitchen. I sniffed again and smelled sausage.

“Brunch?” I asked, snagging a frying piece of bacon as we walked through.

She nodded. “Yeah. We also have a special brunch guest.”

“Special brunch guest, huh?” I stopped walking and looked at her. “He must be like really trustworthy for you to be letting him eat with us.”

She gave me the look.

I shrugged. “Just saying.”

I walked out into the eating area to see a long table that sat maybe fifty stretch down the middle of the room. A white tablecloth with gold embroidery covered the table and shiny silverware was set at each spot.

“Please tell me there’s not going to be this many people,” I said, turning to Cassandra.

“No, just you, Wade, and the guest,” she answered. “I’ll be in the background, making sure you’re safe at all times.”

“Speaking of Wade, where is he?” I asked, finishing my bacon.

“Waiting for you up in the Oval Office,” she answered.

I about choked on my bacon. “The Oval Office?”

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly. “You know what that is, right?”

“It’s the pool right?” I said sarcastically. “Yeah, I know what it is!”

“Just checking,” she raised an eyebrow at me.

“You little….” I muttered under my breathe but decide against finishing the sentence.

I followed her out of the kitchen, snagging another piece of bacon. We wound through the hallways, peopling passing us. Not tour groups like our in the lobby but guards and Senators. Important people. A few people looked our way but other that, nobody paid us much mind.

“Why is he in the Oval Office?” I asked almost in a whisper.

“He’s getting everything set up for after your coronation,” she answered. She showed her card to the guards at the door and I copied her. They granted us access and we stepped inside the Office.

Wade looked up to see us and his eyes instantly lit up.

“Hey, Cassie,” he smiled as he walked over. He gave her a brief hug—kinda unprofessional in my opinion, but whatever. He shook my hand and stepped back.

“No hug for me?” I joked.

He went to give me one but I stopped him.

“I was joking,” I clarified. I was actually relieved he didn’t give me a hug. I wasn’t —am still not— good with personal contact unless it’s someone I’ve known my whole life like Aunt Nellie. Physical contact has always been weird for me. A handshake? Fine. A hug? Absolutely not. That’s just how I am. But keep in mind I don’t care about physical contact when it comes to kicking someone’s butt.

“What can I help you with?” He asked.

“Um…” I didn’t know how to say it. “How much am I allowed to tell people that I trust.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What have you told and who?”

“No one and nothing!” I threw my hands up. “Sheesh, you people are too up tight.”

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a, Don’t mess with me, look.

“I ran into an old, trustworthy friend a few minutes ago. She wanted to know what I was doing in the White House and not in London where I’m supposed to be,” I began. “I told her my dad had died and I had to take his place. But she got suspicious.”

“Why’d she get suspicious?” he asked.

“Because my ‘dad’ is the manager of Walmart in Austin, Texas, that’s why. Washington D.C. and Texas are nowhere close.”

“Okay,” Wade held a hand up to stop me. “You need to stop being so sarcastic.”

“And you need to stop being so—,” I searched for a word. “Over the top.”

He looked at me as if to say, “I’m sorry, what?”.

“Just hear me out,” I said, glaring at him.

“Okay,” he threw his hands up in the air and took a step back— a sign of defeat.

“She and I used to go to the same school before her parents moved the whole family to Maryland a few months back. She called me this morning to tell me about the tour of the White House she was on. I tried to evade her as best as I wanted too but… I guess— it didn’t work,” I paused to catch my breath. “She wanted to know why I was here and I just told her my dad was President Riding.”

He folded his arms over his chest and stared at me.

“What?” I asked, fear bubbling up inside my chest.

“Do you have any clue what you may have just done?” He asked, his voice hard. “Do you have any idea?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Neither do I,” he said. He turned around and walked back to the desk. “Come here.”

I followed him behind the desk and he motioned for me to sit in the chair. I gladly obliged.

He titled the computer monitor so I had a better view and took control of the keyboard.

“What’s your friends name?” he asked, clicking on the search bar.

“Annie Fitz,” I answered. He quickly typed it in and hit ‘enter’. In a split second, a ton of

information on a ton of Annie Fitz’s popped up. Next to each name was a picture.

“Which one’s her?” he asked.

I commandeered the mouse and clicked on the fifth one down. She was one of the only five that had red hair and I’d recognize that smile anywhere.

“Ah, she’s an interesting person,” he said, thinking out loud. “She was born in

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She was sent to boarding school at the age of ten. She got all good grades. If you want her current address, there it is.” he tapped the screen. “And her phone number.” he tapped in a different location. “And every file on every single last one of her friends, including you.”

“Do you have a list of all her boyfriends and their numbers?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat.

“Why?” he questioned, eyeing me.

“Well, some of them were cute,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows.

He snorted. “Red, you have terrible tastes.”

I watched as he scanned through the files on her friends, looking at the pictures.

“In my defense, the last time I met any of her boyfriends, I was twelve. My tastes have

upgraded a lot since then.”

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “Sure.”

“So what can I tell her?” I asked. “I told her to call me tonight.”

“You can tell her whatever you feel like she should know. That’s your call to make. No

pun intended,” he said. “But let me see your phone.”

“Why?” I asked as I dug it out of my bag. I missed the familiar bulge in the fabric of where my gun had been concealed. When I had gone through security the first day, they took it away. I handed it over to him and he popped the case off. He pried the back off and then took the battery out.

“What are you doing to my phone?” I asked, a little worried that it would never work

again.

“For your security, we need to be able to hear every call you get or make,” he explained.

“This device-” he held up a chip smaller than his pinky nail. “Will record everything you say and whatever the other person says.”

“But what if I’m having a personal conversation with my boyfriend?” I asked.

“You don’t have a boyfriend,” he said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

“How would you know?” I asked, annoyed.

“Because if you did, we’d be the first to know. Maybe even before you. Trust me,”

He popped the battery back in place, put the back onto the phone, and put the case on. He handed it back to me and I dropped it into my bag.

“Oh, it also records texts messages, search history, and any chats you have on different apps or websites,” he added.

I glared at him. “I hate you.”

“Just a warning,” he shrugged. “So you’re not too taken aback when we call you up about your search history.”

“Ha-ha funny,” I said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I thought it was,” Wade shrugged. He changed the subject. “Have you ever heard of Holland Kyle?”

“Holland Kyle?” I rolled the name over a few times in my head, trying to put a face to it. It sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it. “It sounds familiar.”

“Okay,” Wade said. He exited the program on the computer and stood up.

Wade motioned for me to follow him as he made his way for the door, with Cassandra close behind. We wound our way through the West Wing where people moved aside for us. They obviously knew Wade. I still didn’t know what purpose he served. When we got to the lobby, news reporters were lined by the door, cameras flashing as security guards held everyone in check. The crowd parted as we made our way closer to the front steps. I stood between Wade and Cassandra, several guards surrounding behind us and two in front. A boy walked closer to us, surrounded by six bodyguards.

He shook Wade’s hand and then held his hand out to me. I looked at him for a split second before shaking his hand. He had loose brown hair with a strand that had fallen into his face. His chocolate brown eyes seemed to stare into my soul.

“I’m Holland Kyle, and you are Redlynne Riding, right?” he asked in a heavy British accent.

I nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to see you again, Cassandra,” he said, shaking her hand.

I leaned over to Wade. “Who is he?”

“He’s Prime Minister Kyle’s second oldest son,” he answered. “An old friend of the Riding family.”

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you, Red,” Holland turned back to me. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Hmm, funny thing, I don’t know who you are,” I said, voice hard.

“Well, it has been ten years,” he smiled despite how rude I had been.

I turned away and started making my way back through the crowd. Wade caught up with me and fell into step beside me.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “That’s not how you’re supposed to treat your guest.”

“I’m hungry,” I snapped. “And I don’t want to talk to any ‘old friends of the family’.”

“Why not? You guys used to be the best of friends,” he said.

I stopped and looked at him. “He’ll just go on and on about how great my Dad was and

what a wonderful man he was.”

“I don’t understand how that’s a bad thing,” Wade countered.

“My dad was not a good man,” I said. “He was a terrible man who put on a show and pretended he was great.”

He looked at me wide-eyed. “You can’t say that.”

“I just did,” I smirked. “Get used to it. I’ma speak my mind.”