"Leave the President's family business to him. You will have plenty to do without trying to manage the First Family. They are likely to do fine without your help." --Donald Rumsfeld.
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Eliot's face was florid. Roselle had just accused him of baking. "No I didn't!" he protested. "Baking cookies isn't manly!"
Roselle laughed. "Your reaction proves it. You're just a cute little cinnamon roll, aren't you?"
He turned away, hiding his face. "Cut it out."
She tittered. "Just the other night the vice president was a cruel gambler that beat up the prime minister. Who knew you were a cyclist baker?"
"Go on and say it," he said. "Everyone else has."
"Say what?"
"That I'm incapable of being the vice president. That I'm not a man."
She wore a puzzled expression. "People have told you that?"
"Yeah. They have. My whole life, everyone made me feel like I wasn't good enough. I was always the youngest in my family, so no one really ever let me do anything on my own." He looked into the city as they still flew above it. "They never let me think for myself. They always had someone feeding me what to do, how to act, and how to feel."
"That's awful."
"Dylan was always Grandma's favorite. He was so smart, and he even became the prime minister of Canada. Me? I was always pushed away by everyone. No one ever thought I would be anything. When I ran for vice president my family only backed me up to humor me. They didn't think I would actually win. Honestly? Neither did I."
"Is that why you got so mad when my sister asked you what your plans were for the country?"
He let out a frigid breath of air. "Yeah. Armani was the genius. I was just in the background nodding about everything he said. Without him, we never would have won. That guy is so charismatic and cool. I wouldn't be anywhere without him. Compared to him, I'm just . . . nothing."
"That's not true." Roselle placed her hand on his arm to comfort him, but he put it back.
"I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this. I just . . . I've been keeping all these thoughts inside me for so long." He shivered. "I shouldn't have told you all that."
"I won't tell anyone." She took her hoodie off and offered it to him. "Are you cold?"
"What are you giving me your jacket for? I'm the guy! If anything, it should be the other way around."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, I think part of being a man is being unafraid if other people think you're not manly. You don't need their approval. You only need your own. Besides, it's only us here."
Eliot pointed at his pilot.
"Just take the jacket, man," the pilot said. "I don't care."
With reluctance, Eliot picked the jacket up, not looking away from Roselle's stare. She nodded at him, as if to tell him it was alright. He steadily slipped it on, and put the hoodie up. It was a very stereotypically feminine hoodie--it was pink, fluffy, and there were cat ears at the top. The two gazed at each other for a long time.
"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
He shook his head. "It's warm." He got closer to her for a minute, and he gently placed his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, and he took that as an invitation to embrace her even further. "Is this okay?"
Roselle's breathing was heavy and her heart raced. "Y--yeah," she said.
"What's this feeling?" he asked, nuzzling his head in her chest.
"You mean affection?"
"You kinda remind me of my grandma. You have a backbone and you don't take any crap. But you're nicer than my grandma. Grandma never hugged me before. She always tells me to be a good boy and stay out of her way."
"Thanks . . . I guess?"
Eliot pulled his face close to hers. They gazed into one another's eyes for a long time. Then, he kissed her.
And she kissed him back.
They kissed in the helicopter for a long time, taking breaths in between smooches. He proceeded to kiss her cheek and then her earlobe, making smacking sounds in her ear.
Then, Roselle had a thought.
"Wait a minute," she said. "Stop."
"What's wrong?"
"Well, first of all, I'm dating your cousin."
"I thought you weren't boyfriend and girlfriend."
"We decided we would be non-exclusive for the time-being, but still, don't you think that's an awkward move to pull based on a technicality? To kiss his cousin that he just had a news-breaking fist fight with?"
He pouted. "Then be with me instead."
She narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute. I get it."
He tried to reach his hand out to her, but she smacked it away.
"Ow," Eliot said.
"This is what you do, isn't it? You even told me before you use this helicopter to get laid. So that's your tactic. You take women up here, become vulnerable to them, then when they're unsuspecting, you move in for the kill." She shook her head. "I'm so stupid. I almost fell for it."
"That's not true!" He turned to his pilot. "You'll vouch for me, right?"
"Uhh, I think I'll stay out of this one, buddy."
"You know what? I had a wonderful time, but it's time for me to get back to my hotel room now. Thanks for everything."
* * *
The helicopter landed back on the building, and they all got out, not daring to say a word. They walked towards the elevator and pressed the button. Ding. When it opened, an Elderly woman with a dress suit and expensive jewelry stood there.
"Why hello," the woman said, eyeing Eliot.
Eliot jumped backwards, almost falling. "Grandma?!"
"Going on a late night helicopter ride? You know it's impolite to use the family helicopter without my permission." She looked Roselle up and down, mugging her with her scorpion eyes. "Especially when you have a guest."
Roselle was startled by the woman, but she didn't scare her. Okay, yes she did. "Hello ma'am," she said in an attempt to be polite.
"You can call me Grandma Scott," she said.
"I'm--"
"Oh yes, I'm quite aware of who you are." She turned to the pilot. "Go with Eliot in the limo and take him back home. I'll take Ms. Reyes here back to her hotel room."
The pilot nodded, his face drenched in sweat.
* * *
Grandma Scott and Roselle were going back to her hotel room in an expensive car. There was no driver. It was driving itself.
"So, Roselle dear, I've heard quite a lot about you," she said, taking a sip of tea. "You're the real talk of the town."
"Oh . . ." She kept her head down and avoided eye contact.
"Why are you so shy? I don't bite. Actually, it's no accident that I'm taking you home. We need to talk."
"T--talk? Us? What is it about?"
Grandma Scott snickered. "Well, isn't it obvious? You've been out and about with my grandsons. Both of them."
"Are you not okay with that?"
"I'll allow it for now, though, I'm not going to allow this in the long run. I mean, you're a hairdresser for crying out loud, but you play a vital role in my plan. I've got a special mission that only you can carry out."
"I'm not some pawn in your game!"
"Ah, you have as much backbone as rumored after all. Just as well too. This mission isn't for the faint of heart."
"Whatever it is, I want no part of your political manipulation and espionage."
"Ah, you're not an easy girl, are you?" She took another sip of her tea. "Don't you want to hear what's in it for you?"
Roselle groaned. "I doubt you'll be able to give me what I want."
"Not even Armani Parker?"
Her jaw dropped to the floor. "How did you--"
"How did I know? My people know people. I got it all figured out." She pulled out a yearbook. Wait, not just any yearbook. It was a yearbook from Roselle's elementary school days. She flipped to a page and showed it to Roselle. It was a picture of her and Armani playing on the playground together when they were six. "What are the odds that you knew the president as a child?"
She was silent.
"And what's more impressive is that I'm aware you're in love with him as he is with you. I know you moved to D.C. to be with him, but he turned you down because he was engaged to Lily Strobe. Now to remedy your heartbreak, you're out whoring it up with my grandsons."
"Just get to the point already."
"Very well," Grandma Scott continued. "You and I have common interests. We could benefit from one another if we teamed up. The mission that I have for you is to break up Armani and Lily before the wedding."