Red, White, And Royal TWO

Chapter 7

It's Friday night, and Alex arrives outside the Capital Grille, which is practically a block away from the White House, wearing a solid light purple button up with only the top undone tucked into a pair of "totally not fugly" khakis (Alex's words to a skeptical Nora) and mahogany dress shoes. No tie. She said this was going to be a casual conversation with dinner, he thinks. This outfit is practically the definition of business casual. But boy is he wrong. It turns out that that night the Capital Grille was hosting a gala. "Hey!" yells Karla while making a motion with her hand to where she was. She walks over to Alex, and he quickly analyzes what she's wearing; a baby blue, monotonous pant suit and matching pillbox hat with a mint green animal fur scarf. Simply put, she looks fabulous.

"Well hello, Madam Secretary, you look ravishing." Alex says.

"As do you, good sir." she replies, mock curtseying as she approaches. He mock bows.

Holy shit I'm underdressed for this. And he's right. Every other guy there is in a tux, and he's barely dressed up more than he was with Henry earlier in the morning.

"So, you didn't tell me this was a gala." Alex starts with levity in his voice.

"I did too! I forwarded the email to you directly!" she says between giggles.

So that's why I had no idea this was a gala.

"Fair enough, that's on me. I never check my personal email anymore."

"Ah, I see," she continues, "Well, to fill you in on the details, the gala is filled to the brim with Washington Elites,"

"Is that a dig at me?" Alex jokingly interrupts.

She rolls her eyes. "And it's raising money for Tuition Coming to Fruition, or TCOF. They help a lot of kids from lower income areas pay for college or private school."

"Huh. Clever name. I should have come up with that." Another eye roll.

"The cause is great, too," Alex continues, "And they'll have great turnout knowing that the hippest Cabinet Secretary in US History and America's Golden Boy are coming."

"Yeah, about that, I actually registered us under fake names."

"Why?"

"I didn't want the press to come and wash away the message the organization is trying to promote. The best thing we can do is post pictures after the gala with the resources for people to donate to." she replies.

Alex is impressed.

They walk in and the bouncer instantly recognizes them. They're given a balcony seat with a table, chairs, and a view of the stage, the whole room, and everyone sitting in it. Right down in front of the stage Alex can see Elizabeth Warren, sitting with her husband and a couple campaign donors. They're given a program with an overview of the organization, the speakers, and even a performer.

"Holy shit Stevie Nicks is playing a set? For a crowd of Washington Elites at a gala?" Alex asks, starstruck.

"No, she'll only play one song. Either 'Silver Springs' or 'Dreams'. Her go-tos."

"That's still fucking sick."

"Are you a big Stevie fan? Or Fleetwood Mac?" she asks.

"Fleetwood. But she carried them, so I guess Stevie."

"Uh, you're kidding right? The McVies carried Fleetwood Mac through the 'Rumours' drama, you know. And the best song from 'Rumours' is 'Songbird'. That's all Christie!"

"No way! 'Rumours' wouldn't have been nearly as good without 'Dreams' or 'Gold Dust Woman'. Jesus, I mean Lindsey Buckingham carried the band more than either McVie did! He sang 'Second Hand News', and 'You Can Go Your Own Way'!"

"Oh, please. We all know that John wrote those!" she says, clearly very passionate about this, possibly as much as Alex is.

After Stevie plays and Elizabeth Warren gives her speech on free college and why she so fully supports the organization, the floor is opened up for a live band with Stevie playing covers. People start to dance to Stevie singing a surprisingly upbeat cover of "Wish You Were Here," by Pink Floyd.

"You wanna dance?" Karla asks.

"Sure!" Alex blurts out without thinking.

Karla whisks Alex down the stairs to the main floor and spins him in a circle as the song ends. The next cover Stevie plays is of 'Love My Way' by The Psychedelic Furs, and it's like something out of a dream. The whole world seems like it's slowing down to let Alex have a good night. Karla let's go of Alex, and soon her scarf and hat are off in an empty seat, and she's bouncing around. Like, really bouncing. She bounces and spins herself around in slow semicircles, closing her eyes and running her hands through her own hair. She looks euphoric as hell. This dance floor is hers, and everyone else is just intruding. Alex mimics her moves, as does everyone else in the room, and soon Alex and Karla are dancing/bouncing in sync, hitting the ground simultaneously and locking playful, giggly eyes.

For the final verse of the song, she tugs Alex into a clumsy, fun tango, and when the last word is uttered and the song is cut off, she dips him without warning. When he comes back up after his head bobs backward, he's met with her face, perfectly structured, intimately close to his, and without control or warning, she collides her lips with his, and they're locked in a passionate, split second kiss. Alex enjoys it too. A gold rush of warmth travels up from the tips of his toes to his brain. He imagines how her hips would feel cradled in his palms, how her head would fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, how good her hands would feel on the sides of his face while she kisses him. Then the image of Henry taking control on Thanksgiving night, doing exactly the same things he's picturing Karla doing to him, and he feels that rush of warmth go dark, and suddenly the feeling of guilt is coursing through his body faster than he can comprehend, cold and dark. Like an avalanche of emotion tearing through his body. He opens his eyes and pulls away, nearly stumbling over his own feet, and quickly thanks God there was no press to snap a photo of the illicit kiss, and that the next song started so fast nobody had seemed to notice him and Karla. He looks at her with disgust, attraction, and remorse all at once, and he's an emotional wreck. He bolts out the door without another word.