Page 29 of The Bodyguard Affair
I stiffen. This sounds serious. “Sure, what about?”
She scratches at her throat, leaving a red welt before leaning in to whisper, “I kind of got us into a…situation.”
“A situation?” I repeat, glancing at Ivan, who’s otherwise occupied.
Before she can elaborate, the crowd outside erupts with excitement, which can only mean one thing: the arrival of the PM.
Chapter 13
Andi
I don’t get a chance to drop the proverbial bomb on Nolan—i.e., tell him about the whole Gretchen-thinks-we’re-a-couple thing and beg him to go along with it. Because when Eric and Gretchen arrive, things get chaotic and he’s urgently required outside.
It’s a bloodbath out there, at least from what I can hear in the comfort of the jet. The reporters shout a myriad of scandal-related questions at Eric, like,How is your marriage? What about your children? How long before you announce your divorce?
The last day has been absolutely wild. Ever since the book was linked to me in the media, my phone has been flooded with DMs from random people. I’ve had to temporarily disable all my accounts. For the first time in months, my mom called me yesterday, in a tizzy over me dishonoring the family name and whatnot.
“All the women at the golf club are asking me about it. It’s soembarrassing,” she complained. I choked back a laugh. Last time I saw Amanda, she was joking about how many times in one conversation Mom references her fancy golf club frenemies, who she’s obsessed with impressing. The count often reaches the high teens.
“None of it’s true,” I reiterated for the fourth time in five minutes.
“I really hope not, Andrea. Especially this…racy memoir. Your father and I—well, not your father.Iraised you better than that. Your grandmother would roll over in her grave if she knew about this. It would be so embarrassing for the entire family.” By the disappointment in her tone, you’d think I’d committed some unspeakable, violent crime. She then launched into a tirade about how sheknewthis role as PA was “bad news.” That it was nothing more than a “glorified maid” position.
“You know, we could sue them for this. Dave has a lawyer friend who specializes in defamation. I bet he’ll—” she started, referring to my stepdad. I like Dave enough, mostly because he rarely says a word, unless you bring up outer space (his obsession). But his family is similar to my mother’s. They’re judgmental, the types who make you feel like you’re under a microscope. The first time Amanda and I went to his place for Christmas as teens, we overheard his mother laughing in the kitchen about how we used the wrong forks at dinner. Ever since, Amanda has purposely used the wrong utensils on the rare occasions we visit, including a salad fork to eat her soup (while maintaining a straight face).
“Mom, it’s fine. Eric’s and Gretchen’s legal teams are handling this,” I assured. It’s a partial truth. Their teams are handling it, but only for Eric and Gretchen’s benefit. Not mine.
I couldn’t get her off the phone fast enough. I had bigger things to worry about, like the wild fact thatThe Prime Minister& Merocketed to #45 in “Erotic Fiction” and #90 overall on the Amazon charts.
When I first saw it, I thought for sure it was a glitch. I spent all morning refreshing the rankings, waiting for it to descend back to its rightful place, buried under millions of other books. Until now, my work has never cracked the top 100 of anything, not even the top 500,000.
A fresh wave of guilt washes over me as Eric and Gretchen board. Gretchen’s forced smile disappears the moment she enters, as does her grip on Eric’s hand as she beelines it for her usual seat. She promptly slaps on her satin sleep mask and reclines, conveniently ignoring the flight attendant’s soft warning that she’ll need to be in an upright position for takeoff.
Eric carries on like everything is sunshine and rainbows. He’s his usual friendly self, greeting the staff, making sprightly small talk before turning to me. “Andi, listen, I’m so sorry for all of this. It’s all my fault,” he whispers.
“How is it your fault?” I counter.
“I’m the one who made you set up the whole dinner. Made you stay late and talk.”
I shake my head, repeating what Nolan told me. “It’s no one’s fault, except whoever snapped those photos. We both know the truth.”
He blows the air from his cheeks, seemingly grateful for my understanding. “It’s true. It’ll all blow over soon enough, I’m sure.”
There’s strain behind his smile. No doubt this rumor is taking a toll. This added stress was the absolute last thing they needed in their relationship. And then there’s the kids. I’m sure they’re getting asked about it at school.
“Andi, did you bring the templates for the table numbers andplace cards?” Gretchen snaps out of nowhere, shooting upright. Her tone cuts the air, and everyone stops. I hold back a laugh, because her sleep mask is still on and she’s not even remotely facing my direction.
“Yes, they’re on your tablet,” I say, standing to fetch it from her bag. I make quick work of pulling them up before she removes her mask.
She takes one look at them and nearly incinerates me with her grimace. “These are the wrong ones.”
They aren’t. Last week, Gretchen was going back and forth between the floral templates or the plain ones. I know this for a fact because she ranted for a solid ten minutes about how the plain ones were too “pedestrian.” “You said last week you wanted the floral ones,” I point out politely.
“Yes, but I wanted them to be pink. For breast cancer. The entire theme of the gala. Obviously,” she hisses.
Gretchen is notorious for thinking things and not verbalizing them, then mistaking it for a real conversation. I don’t bother to correct her, especially not when she’s in a mood. So I just lower my head and nod. “I’ll get the pink ones.”
I’m furiously scouring the depths of the internet for similar pink templates when the rest of the staff arrive, including Stephanie, Eric’s chief of staff. She’s understandably overwhelmed by the reporters and spills coffee all over herself two seconds after boarding. I rush to help clean it up before the air staff have time to react, mostly out of guilt. After all, I’m the reason for all the disorder outside.
