I push up off the desk and step backward. “I know, I know, Liam will be in here in the next few seconds. Besides, I’m running late. Luckily, Esther was kind enough to send the dress out to be dry-cleaned for me.”
“I heard my name,” Esther says as she walks into the office holding a stack of papers. “Mr. President, these need your signature please. Mrs. Adams, how are you today?”
“I said you were kind enough to send my dress out to be dry-cleaned.”
“I did, ma’am, and it’s been returned. I have it at my desk. I was going to bring it up to you, but seeing as you’re here.” She quickly exits the office and returns with a white box.
“Thank you so much for doing this.”
“You’re welcome.” Esther has always conveyed a genuinely warm motherly love toward everyone she meets. From the beginning, we knew she was going to be important to us.
I take the box and place it on Bennett’s desk before giving Esther a tight hug. “Okay, I need to go. So, I’ll see you tonight?”
Liam enters the office from the other door and quickly scans the room. “No one told me we were having a party,” he jokes.
“I’m about to leave,” I say as I pick the box up and walk around to give Bennett a quick kiss.
“And I’m here to have those signed.” Esther points to the stack of papers.
“Thank you again, Esther.” Taking the box, I head out of the office to find Grayson.
It takes a few moments to get to the underground garage and into the car. Once out on the grounds, I sit back and watch as I’m driven toward the Smithsonian for my meeting. The drive is short, and when we arrive, there’s a team of people from the Smithsonian ready for me. “Mrs. Adams, thank you so much for coming out today.”
“You must be Bridget?” I hold my hand out to shake hers.
“Yes, ma’am, I am. I’m so honored that you responded as quickly as you did to donate your dress.”
“Of course, it’s in the car.” I turn to point to the back seat.
Bridget looks at one of the ladies beside her, who steps toward the car. However, one of the other Secret Service agents stops her, retrieves the box, and hands it to her. “It’s such a beautiful dress, and we’re grateful for your generosity.”
We begin walking toward a staff entrance, where she uses a pass to let us all in. The Secret Service agents surround us, though still giving us privacy and space. “I’d love to see where the dress will be showcased.”
“Of course. There’s a process to getting the dress ready, but I can certainly take you through the exhibit if you like.”
The next hour is spent with the women from the Smithsonian who spend their time curating the pieces that First Ladies donate to them.
“Ma’am,” Grayson whispers, encouraging me to wrap up what we’re doing here.
“Thank you so much for showing me the exhibit, and I do hope to be able to come back and see the display the next time it’s open.”
“The First Ladies exhibit will open at the beginning of next month. We’d be honored to give you a private showing before the doors open for the public,” Bridget says happily.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
We quickly wrap things up, then head back to the White House. I notice a store with newspaper taped across the front window and a sign writer’s finishing a business name. I chuckle at the name. Books, Books, and Coffee. I giggle at the simplicity, no need to guess what they’ll be selling there. I make a mental note to go back to the store once it’s open and have a look at the book selection.
When we return to the underground parking, Grayson gets out and opens the door for me. The ride up to the residence is fast, with only Grayson in the elevator with me. “Ma’am,” he says once we’re upstairs.
“What is it Grayson?”
“As Secret Service agents, our hands must always be kept empty.” I tilt my head to the side, not really understanding where this is coming from. “One of my team had to take the box out of the car.”
I lower my eyes and stare off to the side, trying to figure out what he’s going on about. It quickly dawns on me that he meant today at the Smithsonian. “Oh,” I pause for a moment. “I’ll be hiring a personal assistant soon to help me so you won’t be put in that position again.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He steps away, returning to his spot between the kitchen and the elevator.
I walk into the bedroom and toe off my shoes before collapsing on the bed. I guess, I better find myself a personal assistant so I don’t compromise the Secret Service and the work they do.