Free Dutch and Gina: The Power of Love by Mallory Monroe Page B

McDonald’s felt like.   Instead of a reward for a job well done, it felt like punishment.
    Her cell phone began ringing just as she had turned on the TV and sat down, opened up her Big Mac wrapping, and placed the big sandwich in her hands.   She looked at the Caller ID.   It was Crader.
    “What’s up?” she asked into the phone as she sat the sandwich back on the wax paper and leaned back.
    Crader was still at the Burk Hotel in San Francisco, lying across the bed.   “Nothing much,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “Where were you? I called your house a few times, but you apparently were out.”
    “I went to a movie.”
    “Oh,” Crader said.   With which dude , he wanted to ask.   Then he couldn’t resist.   “Who with?” he asked.
    “I went alone.”
    “Alone?   Enjoyed yourself?”
    “Not really, no.”
    “Boring?”
    “No, it was really good.   Just so much laughter all around you.”
    “Oh, yes, that terrible thing called laughter.   Who would want that?”
    LaLa had to smile herself.   “How’s it going with you?”
    “Going good.   The president is a money-raising machine and tonight was no exception.   The Democratic party is in good shape for the mid-terms.   Listen, La, when I get back in town I really want us to sit down somewhere, alone, and talk.   I mean really talk.   I mean not leaving the room until we finish our talk.   Can you at least allow me that much?”
    LaLa didn’t know if it was a good idea or not.   She was just so over being hurt and disappointed and hopeful, only to be crushed again.   She felt entitled to the little pity party she was having right now.   “We’ll see,” was all she would commit to.
    It wasn’t quite what Crader would have wanted, but it was better than no.   “I suppose that’s fair,” he said.  
    And then silence ensued.
    “Dutch ordered me to get some rest,” he eventually said, “and I guess I’d better do as the man says.    We have another big day tomorrow.    So I’d better say goodnight.”
    LaLa smiled.   “Goodnight, Crader.   And thanks for calling.”
    This warmed Crader’s heart.   “Stay sweet, you hear?” he said.
    She smiled, and killed the call.
    She picked back up her Big Mac, looked at it again, and then dropped it on the paper altogether.   The thought of wearing that big sandwich on a body she was trying to whip into shape wasn’t something she cared to do.   She therefore wrapped it back up in the wax paper, and tossed the hold thing, with fries and shake too, in the waste basket.  
     
    Allison was still with Liz when Dutch walked into the suite.   Liz was sitting quietly on the sofa while Allison was seated in the chair texting on her Blackberry.   She stood up as soon as the president entered.  
    “May I be relieved, sir?” she asked as she stood to her feet.
    Dutch smiled.   “Get out of here,” he said and Allison grinned.   But she kept on going.   She couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
    Dutch could see that Liz was sober and freshly scrubbed now, although the anguish in her eyes was still there.   She was dressed in different clothes, a simple black dress Allison had apparently rounded up for her, and she looked more, if not entirely, like the Liz of old.  
    “You look better,” Dutch said honestly as he headed for the bar.
    Liz smiled.   “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”
    Dutch didn’t respond.   He poured himself a glass of wine, poured her a glass of juice, and then took a seat in the chair flanking the sofa.   Liz accepted the glass of juice, but didn’t sip from it.   She looked at the president instead.
    “Thanks for not letting them toss me out,” she said.
    “Why has it come to this?” he asked.
    “Come to what?”
    Dutch didn’t respond.
    Liz leaned back, crossed her legs.   With her smooth, brown skin, her bright hazel eyes, her gorgeous body, she still was a beauty to behold, Dutch thought as he