“Too bad she didn’t just go on vacation, huh?”
“I don’t think she’s ever gone on vacation, has she?” Tabitha widened her eyes. “I’ve only been working with her for a couple of years, but I can’t remember her taking off more than a weekend.”
“You’re right. Which is probably why she’s in a hospital from a heart attack right now.”
Once we were to the hotel, we made our way back up to the room in companionable silence. Max was sound asleep and snoring on the couch when we opened the door. Knowing that he was probably exhausted from his day in the limelight, I made a quiet sign to Tabitha, who smiled and mouthed good night before disappearing back out the door. I wasn’t sure where her room was located, but it was probably nearby.
I took my shoes off and went to the kitchen to grab a snack and get something to drink. The fridge wasn’t stocked the way it would be at home, but there were a few things like fruit and cheese on a covered dish. I ignored the soda and opted for water instead. Quietly I padded back across the giant room and sat in the big armchair next to Max. The television was going and the news was showing a story about a wounded soldier who had returned home just in time to see his twin daughters being born. It was a bittersweet story but at least it had a happy ending.
The next story almost made me spit my grape across the room. The stupid title at the bottom of the screen said, “Royal Love,” and the story started out with an image of Sam and Alex running around on a beach. Those jerks had found the island and were using aircraft to video my brother’s honeymoon. I leaned forward and glared at the smiling reporter as she joked about the fun the two seemed to be having on their getaway. Getaway. Like it wasn’t their honeymoon, but just a random trip that didn’t matter.
Oh, then they showed Samantha in her wedding dress, smiling for the cameras. She was gorgeous and it would have made my heart swell if it hadn’t been used by the very reporter I had told Tabitha to not allow into the wedding. Had he just stolen the picture or bought the rights? It figured that he would be the one hounding them on their honeymoon. Speaking of that, there was now a picture of them kissing on the beach, and I blanched.
“Blech.” I turned the channel. No matter how old I got, no matter how much I adored Sam, Alex was still my brother and I didn’t want to see him playing grabby-ass with anyone.
The next channel was some type of soap opera and I watched for a minute as the actress slapped some man wearing a tuxedo. Heh. I’ve wanted to do that before. I picked up a piece of cheese from the tray I had brought with me and looked it over. It smelled off so I set it to the side and stuck to the fruit.
“Are you really going to watch that?” Max’s groggy voice interrupted the string of verbal abuse coming from the television.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “I just wanted to know why she hit him.”
“That’s how they get you.” He rolled over on the couch and covered his head with a pillow. “At least turn it down.”
“You have a room.” I pointed to the side opposite of my room. “With a bed and everything.”
“Can’t. I’m waiting on a phone call.” His voice was muffled. “If I go to my room I won’t wake up for it.”
“Who is calling you this late?”
“’Merica.” The word was garbled.
“Who?” I frowned.
“America.” Sitting up, he threw the pillow on the floor. “You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”
“Nope.” I shook my head and passed him the fruit tray. “Who is calling you from America?”
“Bird crap.” He grabbed a couple of apple slices.
“Bird crap is calling you from America?” I giggled.
“Ha ha. Dork. People are calling me about bird crap. Future Bird Trust. Blah, blah, blah.” He stretched. “Something about starting an American branch.”
“Can’t Chadwick handle that?” I bit into another grape.
“I wish. It’s the president’s wife, which means she needs to speak to someone other than an assistant. Though Chadwick could tell her more about that stuff than I can. It’s just a formality at this point.” He frowned at his apple. “What is it they call her? The first lady? What would they call the husband of a president? The first man? That sounds idiotic. Hello, I’d like to introduce you to Bob, the first man.”
“It is a bit silly, but I can see why they need a title.” I shrugged. “It’s a little harder when you don’t have royalty, huh?”
“Right. Because that makes life so much easier.” He bit into his apple. “I hope Sam comes back knocked up.”
I choked on my water and had to wipe up the little that dribbled down my chin. “What? Why?”
“Put that crown a little further away from me.” He smiled. “The last thing I want to ever be is king.”
“Um, I’m pretty sure that Sam isn’t ready to be a mom yet.” I frowned. “In fact, I’d be surprised if she didn’t have an entire suitcase of birth control packed and next to their bed.”
He snorted. “She’ll be a great mom. And the kid would be cute. Even if Alex is the dad.” Old habits like picking on your sibling died hard, no matter how old you were.
“No doubt. I’d love to be an aunt.” I smiled thinking about it. “Now I’m going to have aunt fever.”