Spoilers: Through Season Four would be safe, I think…
Feedback: ballynihinch@hotmail.com
Author’s Note: Special thanks to everyone who was so patient for this story to be posted to the JDFF list while I was having my gallbladder taken out. I hope you found it worth the wait!!
The wedding announcements had gone out just before Thanksgiving. Many assumed that it would be a small affair—just family, close friends, the President and the First Lady—but somehow, between the dress fittings, the press coverage of the ruby engagement ring, and the segments on E!, Crossfire, Larry King and Entertainment Tonight, it had turned into a bit of a thing.
Four friends pounded the pavement along Fifth Avenue, trying to find things for the ladies to wear to the wedding: two of them were extremely excited about the little venture; the other two—the boys—were rather less-than eager.
“Exactly how did Charlie and I become necessary for this little escapade?” Josh whined.
“Because, Fly Boy, you lost a heavy hand of poker night before last and, since you were a scoundrel and came to the table without enough money to cover your ass, Donna and I had to think of a fit way to punish you. This was the best we could come up with on short notice.” CJ turned and gave Josh a steely glare. “Stand up straight and take it like a man.”
“But it’s dress shopping!”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said slowly, “I think it’s kinda cool. Just pretend you’re Armani surrounded by beautiful models every time we enter a store.”
The two men gave each other cheeky smiles before Donna stepped in and smacked Josh upside the head. “Behave yourself!” she snapped in a low whisper. “We were just in Chanel!”
Josh rubbed his head, scowling. “Why am I always the one who gets hit? Charlie was the one talking about the sexy models.”
“You’re easier to abuse,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Now come and help us find something to wear to this wedding!”
Suddenly CJ grabbed Donna’s arm and stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. “Stop everything! We have arrived! Donna, look! Just look—we have reached the Promised Land.” Everyone looked through the windows of the store next to them; Donna began to squeak wildly.
“Oh my god!” she yelped. “It’s Vera Wang!”
“Come on, boys,” CJ cried happily, “I think we don’t need to go any farther.”
“Oh, thank god,” Josh muttered, before being yanked through the main doors of the store.
A sales assistant immediately came up to them. “Can I help you find anything?” she asked sweetly.
CJ smiled back and took charge. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s necessary. We brought our good luck charms with us,” she said, grabbing Charlie by the arm and pulling him next to her, “so I think we shouldn’t have any trouble finding something.”
“All right, then,” said the assistant. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”
For a few minutes, all four milled about the store slowly, looking at different dress styles and colours.
Charlie moved up to a rack of black cocktail dresses. “Does anyone know why Jordan and Leo decided to get married in New York? Why not back home? Or Boston? Leo’s from Boston—it makes more sense.”
Shrugging, CJ flipped through a series of pastel gowns. “Who knows? New York is certainly different.”
“Yeah,” Josh snarked, “less marble.”
Donna shook her head. “You’re a dork.”
“Maybe—but I’m right.”
“I like it,” Donna said softly. “I think it’s a really great idea—combining the wedding and our New Year celebrations. It means I only have to buy one fabulous dress instead of two. My credit card will be very happy.”
“Sure,” CJ nodded, “except you have to make sure that your one dress is the most amazing thing ever created. This wedding is being covered by every media outlet—because the President is going to be there—and every fashion review—because it’s an haute couture event on New Year’s Eve—and every entertainment magazine because, you know, I’m going to be there.”
Josh looked over from where he’d been playing with a mannequin’s outstretched hand. “Hey, you’re not the one with a fan club like mine.”
“And that’s something I regret everyday of my life,” she deadpanned. “Joshua Lyman, stop playing with the fake women and come and help us real ones find nice dresses—you know, something that will make the male demographic at this wedding sit up and take notice.”
“You know what would really get our attention? If you didn’t wear anything. Nudity is always the best policy.”
“Wait, Donna,” said Charlie, getting between her and the back of Josh’s head, “let me hold him down for you this time.”
“Hey! Stop picking on me!”
CJ laughed. “And that’s exactly the kind of thing to say when you want to get us to leave you alone. Geez, you need help.” Grabbing his arm, she hauled him off to look at dresses a few yards away. Looking back, she caught Donna’s eye. “Don’t forget, Donna, we’ll also need shoes.”
“Right. Shoes.”
Donna began to drift away from the other three—dress shopping for her was always like finding a parking spot: you had to hope you had karma on the given day and then everything would just fall into place. Taking a quick look to make sure the other three were occupied—CJ was trying to teach Josh about what colours made her look good and Charlie was chatting up one of the attractive store attendants—Donna made a bee-line for the wedding dress section of the store. It was a dirty habit, but one that she could not help but indulging—especially in Vera Wang. Really, who was kidding who here?
After several minutes, she thought she might have snow-blindness. Backing away slowly from the yards and yards of billowing lace, shimmering satin and veils flecked with bits of mother-of-pearl, she tried in vain to find something among the racks of dresses that would make ‘the male demographic’ sit up and take notice of her at Leo’s wedding.
But it had to be something perfect—that way, she just might be able to turn the head of a certain Deputy Chief of Staff for whom she’d been holding a torch for a few years…like maybe six or so.
Really, who was kidding who here?
So far, nothing had caught her eye. Black was so overdone, and pale pinks just weren’t sexy enough—and if anyone thought she was a bridesmaid at this wedding because of what she had chosen to wear, it was game over. She had worn fuchsia before, and Josh hadn’t really noticed a thing—then again, he’d been dating Amy then, but if a plunging neckline couldn’t grab his attention, then nothing would, except maybe a bill three votes down on the Hill.
Blue was a no…she didn’t feel like wearing blue this time. Sage green made her feel washed out, and she wasn’t quite sure what emerald green might do to her looks. It was a no-win situation.
“Not that any kind of a dress would help me anyways,” she grumbled. “I’m too scared, and then he’s too scared, and then we’re both acting like lunatics…” Her hands flipped through the racks so quickly, there was no way she could be looking at a single gown.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
Donna’s head snapped up; a young assistant stood next to her, trying not to smile. She got ready to tell the girl to go away, and then thought better of it. Shrugging her shoulders, she held up her hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “I was going to say no, but maybe I do need some help.”
“Special occasion?”
“Definitely,” Donna nodded. “My boss—who’s also a dear friend—is getting married Friday night. And I have absolutely nothing in my closet that will do for a New York wedding.”
The girl broke into a sassy grin and took Donna by the arm. “Well, extravagance is my second favourite word, after ‘sale’ of course! My name is Diane.”
“I’m Donna.”
“Well, come on then, Donna—I know we’ve got something here that will make it a night to remember.”
“And probably make my credit card even more memorable!”
“Well,” Diane said coyly, “what’s the price for a night of pleasure?”
Donna paused and then began to giggle. “Good point.”
*****
Josh looked about the store and tried not to sulk. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being with the ladies and Charlie—he loved it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being in New York City—it wasn’t DC, but it certainly had its perks, like staying in a suite at the Waldorf Astoria. Hell, that place even had its own embossed shoe horns! And he had no problem whatsoever getting excited for Leo and Jordan—those two had been through a lot the past three years and it was great they had found each other.
But dress shopping?
He could not tell one designer’s fashions from another, so what was the point in bringing him along on this voyage through American Haute Couture?
Oh right, punishment. Kind of forget that there for a second.
His approach to the glamorous in life was simple: open the closet door, find the monkey suit hanging somewhere in the back, get Donna to send it to the cleaner’s, get her to give him that stylish Tony Bennett look with the loosened bow-tie and then get the damned tuxedo off as soon as he could. Statesmen might find a white-tie dinner at the White House to be the epitome of sophistication, but he would much rather face a legion of angry Republicans at unending congressional meetings—at least in that scenario he knew that he had the upper-hand. He never knew what to make of himself in a tuxedo whenever he looked at his reflection in the mirror.
And now dress shopping? He winced, ran a hand over his tired face, and sighed—it was going to be a very long day.
He opened his eyes, looking around for some place to hide. Then something caught his attention, far away along the back wall. It was simple; it was stunning.
It was perfect.
“CJ!” he bellowed, running over to her. “CJ! The search is over!” Dragging her away from a rack of red satin sleeveless gowns, he made a bee-line for the back of the store, pointing and waving while he went. “Go put that on!” he crowed, sensing that victory was near.
CJ looked up at the headless mannequin, sizing up the dress before her. “You think?”
“Trust me, I’m a guy—I know.”
“I’m to trust you while shopping? Can I quote you on that?”
Sputtering, he gestured towards the change-room: “Just…just go and…you know, put it on, or zip it up, or whatever you do. Go do it.”
CJ smiled, winked at the exuberant Josh before her, and then got one of the assistants to bring her the dress in a size appropriate for a woman who was 6’2” in heels.
*****
Donna looked at what Diane was holding up before her and shook her head. “Nope. No black.”
“Are you sure? It’s always chic—especially for New Year’s Eve.”
“I promised myself I would wear colour to this wedding…I just didn’t know at the time that it would be such a problem!”
Diane smiled, dismissing Donna’s pessimism with a shake of her head. “No, trust me. I have this weird feeling that your dress is here in the store. I’m good like that—if special people come into the store I can usually suss out what they need in under ten minutes.”
“Really?” Donna was fascinated. “That’s fascinating! I’m that way around the office. I can find a file for Josh in under thirty seconds flat. Otherwise, it’s a telling sign that I’m feverish with strep throat.”
“You get that too? I hate strep.”
“So do I.”
Diane began to flip through more of the racks. “A Sister in Strep. Oh, we are going to find such a dress for you!”
Giggling, Donna peered at the rows of sleek satin gowns and silently crossed her fingers behind her back for luck before reaching for frock beside her.
“So, who’s Josh?”
Donna dropped the yellow chiffon dress she’d been looking at and immediately flushed a humiliated shade of pink. “What?”
Bending to help her, Diane tried to catch her eye. “You mentioned a Josh before. I just wondered if he was someone special.”
“Of course he is.”
“So he’s your date for this wedding? Fantastic.”
“Oh no,” Donna countered, “he’s not my date. How funny, thinking he would be my date! He would not be my date. Why would that ever be? Oh no, no, no. Josh isn’t my date. Because, really, why would he ever want to take me to a wedding? Donna and Wedding? Those two words just don’t go together in his mind. Never, never, never. So no, he’s not my date. Would never be my date. Even if I maybe kinda sorta wanted him for a date, I still wouldn’t bet the farm on it, because, really when does that ever turn out for the best? Ever? No, didn’t think so.”
Diane grabbed her shoulders and began to shake her. “Donna! Snap out of it!” Stepping back, she tried to apologise. “I’m so sorry…I’ve never shaken a customer like that before. But—you were really, well, losing it.”
“Oh my god,” Donna whispered. She put a hand up to her head as though to make sure her head wasn’t spinning around of its own volition. “I’m the one who should be apologising. Josh is…well, he’s my friend.”
“That’s promising.”
“He’s also my boss.”
“That sucks.”
Looking out towards the rest of the store, Donna tried to spot him. “That’s him,” she pointed, “over there with my friend CJ. She’s the tall one.”
Diane moved around to get a better look. “He’s the one with the crazy hair?”
Donna laughed. “It only gets wild when he’s agitated—which is most of the time.”
“So…I have to ask…are you wanting more from this guy than the boss-friend thing? I mean, he’s pretty cute.” Diane hesitated for only the briefest of minutes before answering herself. “Wait, I don’t want you to lose it again. I’ll just assume yes. Am I right?”
Donna nodded. Her eyes were bright, which said more about her feelings than a thousand words ever could.
A sly look came into Diane’s face that matched Donna’s lustre. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“I shouldn’t do this…we were saving this dress for a Hollywood premiere, but really—you need this dress. This is the dress that is going to get you that man.”
“Oh, I don’t know…”
“Please, honey. This is New York. Go big or go home.”
Grabbing Donna’s hand, the sales assistant brought her through to the back of the store, into one of the private fitting rooms.
As she looked in the mirror, Donna could hardly believe her eyes. The fabric was so rich and velvety it clung to her body like a glove. In the light of the dressing room, it shimmered mutely, drawing in your eye and making you want to reach out and touch it. When she smoothed her hand down her hip, the material tickled her palm; when she swept back up towards her breasts, she thought she had never before felt anything so soft or inviting.
And the colour…it was so unlike what she usually wore, and yet it brought out the blond in her hair and made her alabaster skin shine like marble. Her blue eyes looked velvet. The cut of the dress fell away from her hips after sculpting her breasts and tapering down to her waist. When she stood on tiptoe, the effect was even more dramatic.
She had never worn anything like this. She felt like a queen, like a goddess; she had never felt more human or sexy or like a woman of grace and stature and style.
It was positively amazing what a few little scraps of cloth could do to one’s self-esteem.
“Diane?” she called out. “Job well done! I’ll take it.”
*****
“Wow, CJ. You look amazing!”
“You really think so, Josh?”
“Sure. Trust me.”
CJ twirled about in front of the mirror again, letting the midnight blue gown swoosh around her legs. Striking a pose, she pursed her lips and tried to look smoky and alluring.
“No, Josh. You’re just not enough. Get me Charlie.”
Shaking his head, Josh blindly turned around. “Charlie! Her Majesty needs you in her now!”
“Josh, chill. I’m right next to you.”
“Ooops, sorry man.”
Charlie strolled into the fitting room and let out a low whistle. “Damn, chiniqua! You look hot!”
“Now you see, Josh? That’s the way to talk to a woman in an expensive dress.”
He shrugged. “Meh. Live and learn.” Looking at CJ again, Josh couldn’t help smiling. “Really, Claudia Jean. You are beautiful. So beautiful, that you simply have to go to Leo’s wedding as my date.”
CJ looked over at him, startled. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am. You look wonderful and I’m going to be your escort.”
Thinking for a moment, she gave in with a shrug of her shoulders. “You’re on. But don’t forget, Josh—I’m determined to dance at this wedding. That means you can’t slink off to the bar and lose yourself in your requisite two beers for the entire evening.”
“Point taken. Now can we get out of here? There’s no point looking at any other dresses—that’s the one.”
She broke out into a smile, at last. “Great!”
*****
Charlie walked back into the main store, hoping to find that young assistant, Charise. What he found instead was Donna as he had never seen her before.
“Donna? You look—wow. I don’t even have the words.”
“Thanks,” she muttered. Her eyes seemed haunted.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Donna…”
“Really, Charlie, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“You are going to take that dress, right? It’s…yeah, you’ve gotta buy that dress.”
She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “It’s all right. But there’s no point anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I…I was coming to show you guys and…and then he asked her…and I…well, I have the crappiest timing in the world, that’s all.”
For a moment Charlie looked confused, and then the light bulb went off over his head. “Oh, damn. You came in right then?”
Biting her lip, she did her best not to unspool; instead, she sniffed deeply and smiled through watery eyes while nodding.
“Donna, trust me. He sees you in that, everything changes. Come on.” He took her by the arm intent on dragging her back into the fitting room area.
“No!”
“What?”
“No way. No, Charlie. Not a chance in the world.”
“Why ever not? You’re being silly.”
She dug in her heels and refused to budge an inch, crossing her arms below her breasts. “I’m not going to go in there and have him sputter like an idiot and then try to trip all over himself because he’s already taking CJ to the wedding. It’s his loss.”
“But you’re still going to buy the dress?”
“Of course I’m going to buy the dress,” she said, rolling her eyes and completely refuting what she had said only moments before. “But now—I’m going to wear it for me, not for him.”
“You two seriously need to get together and talk one of these days. You know that, right?”
“I’m not going to answer that.”
“I didn’t think you would,” he sighed. “Look, Donna. You look too fabulous to walk into that wedding reception without an equally fabulous man beside you. Can I take you?”
Smacking Charlie on the arm, Donna had to bite her lip again to stop from crying. “Thanks, Charlie. That’d be great.”
“My pleasure. Seriously.”
“You’re sweet. I’ll just go take this off. No point in having anyone else see it before the big day!” With that, Donna hurried away before either Josh or CJ came back into the room.
Man, oh man, Josh, Charlie thought. You have no idea what you’re missing. But maybe on Friday you will…
*****
Donna picked up the phone in her hotel room, expecting to hear Josh’s voice on the other end of the line. It was three days until the wedding and she still felt enchanted with all of the sights and sounds of New York City. She could only imagine how excited Jordan must be getting.
“Hello?”
“Donna? Donna, this is Diane from Vera Wang.”
She blinked, slightly startled at the voice being any other than Josh’s. “Right! Hi, how are you?”
“Completely freaking out. You didn’t happen to leave the dress anywhere special in the back of the store, did you?”
A tiny crinkle appeared in the middle of Donna’s forehead. “No,” she said slowly. “I put it right back in that dressing room where I first put it on. Why?”
“Shit. That really is bad.”
“Diane…what are you telling me?”
“The dress is gone.”
Donna felt as though there was nothing supporting her legs anymore. “What? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know. I went to take it to the seamstress—remember how you wanted the hemline slightly raised so it wouldn’t get wet from all the slush on the streets? Well, when I went to grab it from the back, it was gone. We have no record of anyone taking it from the store, so I thought maybe you hid it somewhere so it wouldn’t get flown out to LA by mistake.”
“Diane, what are you saying?”
There was a lengthy pause. “The dress is gone, Donna. I’m sorry.” Diane might have kept talking, but Donna wasn’t listening anymore. Any plans she might have made for Friday night melted away a forgotten dream.
*****
“How about this?”
Diane looked at the yellow chiffon dress Donna kept coming back to and shook her head again. “No way. Not with your colouring. It would wash you out in a second. And do you really want to wear yellow to a winter wedding?”
Donna pouted and put the dress back with a small yet perfectly audible huff. “Diane, this isn’t working. There’s nothing here.”
“Donna, I like you, but this is Vera Wang. There is always something here.”
“Well not for me! Not today!” she wailed, moving away from the racks. Grabbing a seat on a pink settee, Donna put her head in her hands and sighed. She and Diane had been going through every possible dress in the entire store, but nothing compared to the lost burgundy dress. Really, it hadn’t even been burgundy…it just had been this fantastic dark colour that looked reddish-blue in some lights, russet in others, and perfect no matter where she had stood. And now it was gone.
“I’m just not going to go to the wedding.”
Diane looked over at her as if Donna had grown another head. “Will you listen to yourself? There is no way you’re skipping out on this wedding. Don’t your boss’s feelings mean anything to you?”
She gulped in answer, thinking of Josh. “Oh, you mean Leo, right?”
“I mean whoever the guy is who’s getting hitched.”
“Leo. Definitely Leo.”
Diane came and sat down beside her. “Isn’t Leo worth trying to find something nice?”
Donna squirmed under the other woman’s stare, feeling absurdly embarrassed. “Of course he is. Leo is a wonderful man. He wouldn’t care if I came to the wedding in a sackcloth with ashes on my head, so long as I danced with him at least once at the reception.”
“Well, I might not be able to find that other gown, but you’re sure as hell not going in a sackcloth! Not if I can help it!”
Donna put her hand on her arm. “Thanks, Diane. I’m sure we’ll find something that will do. I just…”
“Yeah. I totally get it. When I was in my senior year, some jerk spilled a bottle of red wine all over my blue Cinderella dress. I went to my prom looking like either a murder victim, a haemorrhaging patient from the hospital, or a drunk. In any light, it was bad. And who knows, we might find your dress. Maybe. Hopefully.” She grew silent, watching Donna’s ashen face. “Okay, so maybe it was sent out to California to some overly-thin screen goddess. But screw ‘em: this is New York, honey. We’ll find something even better.”
*****
The day of the wedding dawned bright and cold. A new layer of snow had turned New York into a winter playground. Donna awoke in her large suite, alone, and stared up at the ceiling. It had been a restless night. She felt wired, full of pent-up twisting energy. Curling her toes beneath the smooth sheets of the queen-size bed, she stretched her limbs and tried to get ready for the day.
It was hard to remember quite what had been in her dreams. Something about Josh and a changing room and silky, velvety material brushing across her breasts and along the tender skin of her inner thighs. Looking over at the clock on the bedside table, she noticed it was not quite 7AM.
She bit her lip, smiling to herself. She still had a few minutes to herself before she needed to get out of bed. Why not relax and finish the dream properly? If she felt this restless so early in the day, she really should do something to make herself feel more like herself. Lifting her oversized t-shirt over her head, she nestled down among the down-filled pillows and let her hand snake down across her bare belly until her fingertips grazed the wiry thatch at the top of her sex.
Lying back, she thought of Josh. Whenever she thought about him in the early morning or late at night, she wanted to touch herself. During what she referred to as ‘The Amy Period’ she had stopped thinking about him this way; it was too hard to imagine him loving her when she was alone, and then having to listen to his voice when he called from Amy’s bed on good mornings. The decision had been made when she had helped to decorate his apartment way back when the Amy-thing was only just beginning. After putting up way too many fake tiki torches, she had sadly come to the conclusion that fantasising about Josh was no longer an option.
But that phase had long since passed. Ever since that awkward time when she was dating Jack Reese and Josh kept trying to sabotage her dates—because she knew quite well that that was exactly what he had been doing—she had occasionally succumbed to lusting after Josh Lyman’s fine physique. Sure, there had been a few questionable hair cuts in there, but when it came to daydreaming there were other, far more interesting bits to focus on, like his eyes, his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and the best ass in D.C.
It really was a shame about that dress—Josh would have been all over her if he had seen her in that thing. She thought about how his hands would have felt up from the curve of her waist all the way to the beginning swell of her breasts; that was the great thing about a ‘feel me up’ dress, it always focused a guy’s attention on her breasts. She knew she didn’t have an overabundance of cleavage, but there had been enough compliments from gomers past and present to make her feel good about her body.
Too much time thinking about gomers…much better to think about Josh: the Ultimate Gomer.
She thought about how it would look to gaze down the length of her body and see Josh’s head smiling back at her from the joining of her thighs. Then he would lean in and lose himself the taste of her up to his dimples. Imagining the feel of his tongue lightly tracing the contours of her folds made Donna lightly trace them with the tip of one finger. She pictured him lapping at her gently, making her wet, and then quickly losing all control once he had discovered just how sensitive her clit was. Somehow she didn’t think Josh would be concerned with technique when he was hell-bent on chasing her orgasm, so she let her fingers circle and flick randomly at the nub of her pleasure.
Maybe he would have started first on her breasts, leaving their crowns damp from his mouth. Licking one thumb she quickly wet her nipples, pretending it was the leavings of his wicked kiss. Her legs would be swung up over his shoulders, letting the smoothness of her calves slide across his expansive back.
Just as she was getting close, she thought about Josh’s cock—it never failed to get her off in the most pleasurable of ways. He would be large, but not overly massive; thick and heavy and magnificently hot to the touch. First he would check that she was ready with a tender finger tracing the insides of her walls and then he would slowly press into her, filling her with every inch of his rigid shaft.
But what always made her lose it was the thought that, the whole time, he would look deeply into her eyes and smile that one smile that had always been meant just for her when they were alone.
By now her hips were rocking faster and faster against her hand. Flinging back the covers, Donna let her naked body arch backward as the tension filling her finally came to climax; she shuddered deliciously as she slowly sank down from her fantasy. For several minutes afterward she simply lay in bed, not quite smiling, but certainly not frowning either, as the aftershocks from her release occasionally twinged and pulsed through her sex.
But by the time her feet hit the carpeted floor, she realised that her chance to be with the real Josh tonight, rather than the one in her fantasies, had vanished along with that burgundy dress.
*****
CJ and Donna arrived at Vera Wang by ten o’clock in the morning to pick up their dresses for the wedding.
“What did you end up deciding on?” CJ asked, watching Donna carefully for any freaky response. Charlie had filled CJ in on the dress fiasco and the White House press secretary had now taken it upon herself to make Donna’s day as bright as possible. Plus, it was New Year’s Eve in New York City, which had to spell fun one way or the other.
“A little black number. Short, spaghetti straps, no decoration. Nothing too out of the ordinary.” Donna’s voice was fairly flat as she talked about her attire for the ceremony that night.
“It sounds lovely.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t see the other one.”
“Hey, at least you didn’t have Josh pick out your dress. I’m still half afraid that a camera is about to appear out of nowhere saying that I just made Entertainment Tonight’s Worst-Dressed List.”
Donna shook her head. “Don’t worry, that would never happen to you. You’re a fashion goddess.”
“Aw, shucks.”
Walking up to the main counter, Donna smiled at the sales assistant. “Hi, Diane! We’re here to pick up our dresses.”
“Hiya, Donna. So that’s your black cocktail and Ms Cregg’s midnight blue gown? They should be ready in the back.”
Donna playfully rolled her eyes and put a hand up against her brow. “Oh, no. Not ‘the back’. Isn’t that where the wheels fell off for me the first time we came in here?”
“Touché. Don’t worry—I put them out before opening this morning myself. If anything has happened to those dresses, I’ll lock down the store until we find the thief.”
“Sounds good to me!”
Donna hadn’t noticed that CJ had wandered off. There was something about sexy bridal lingerie that always made CJ itch to be a bride—if only for the one day. Who was kidding who here?
CJ looked at the various merry-widows and negligees, noting with some irony that there were none that would fit a woman over 5’8”. Typical. Out of the corner of one eye, a jaunty little emerald green number caught her attention. It was a pair of silky-satiny baby doll pyjamas, with the scantest bit of lace along the edge of the bodice. She picked it up, just to feel the material across the pads of her fingers, but it didn’t lift easily.
“What the hell?” she muttered, tugging a bit at the display table. A bit of material seemed to be caught by something underneath the pile of baby dolls. CJ reached beneath the sea of emerald green silk and came away with…burgundy velvet? That couldn’t be right.
“Hey, Donna! What do you think of this?” She held up the emerald teddy in one hand and the dress in the other. It took only a few seconds for Donna to look over and start to emit a screeching sound that could have given a fire alarm a run for its money.
“Ohmigod, CJ!! You found it!”
Diane came running over from behind the counter and, with Donna hold half of the dress and grabbing the other from CJ’s hand, the two girls began to bounce up and down as if they had found the secret fountain of youth. Not that any of them needed it, CJ added on a hasty mental note.
“This is it? This is the dress?”
“YES!” both Donna and Diane shrieked. They stopped jumping for a moment and CJ finally got a good look at the newly-found treasure.
“Wow, Donna. Go put that sucker on right now. I’ve got to see it on you!”
Literally skipping with delight, Donna made a bee-line for the change room, with Diane and CJ hot on her heels. She hadn’t felt this happy in ages—and man, was she ever going to make an entrance at Leo’s wedding that night!
Behind the change room door, she slipped into the dress and, before zipping it up in the back, closed her eyes and stopped for just a second, knowing that she felt on some new plateau, some different place where anything was possible.
“Are you ready?” she called out. “Because here I come!”
*****
Josh had never seen anything like her before in his life.
He had needed to check with CJ about the staff’s gift to Leo and had found out from Charlie that the girls had headed over to Vera Wang to pick up their frocks. Since he was wanting a breath of fresh air anyway—his dreams had been extremely pleasant, but more than a little disturbing since they featured Donna as his partner in sin—he figured the walk over to Fifth Avenue would do him good.
Now, watching Donna emerge from her chrysalis, he knew it was the best decision he had ever made.
She looked…unbelievably amazing. The dress fit her like a glove and fell all the way to the floor. It curved along the swell of her breasts and rode against the flat plane of her stomach as though it had been made for her and her alone. Her arms were bare and so was most of her back. She had such a great back—long, white, pristine, as if she had once been a muse during the Italian Renaissance.
He wanted to fall down on his knees and worship her beauty.
Instead, he just stood there with his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide and, most likely, bulging out of his head like some bad Bugs Bunny cartoon. If he was still breathing, his lungs didn’t know it. Maybe his tongue was lolling out—who cared? He felt as though he had been hit over the head with something, and then realised it had been CJ smacking him upside the head.
“Donna?” he squeaked. Looking back, he thought it was a very macho, masculine sort of squeak.
She didn’t say anything at first.
Then she frowned.
That couldn’t be good.
“Josh,” she whispered coolly, “what are you doing here?”
“Um…well…yeah, I was…hmmm…” In the end he simply shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare at the vision before him. Because does stupidity matter that much when you’re seeing the most beautiful, sexy woman in your entire life?
Really, who was kidding who here?
“Josh, stop drooling,” CJ hissed.
“Wha?” He quickly passed a hand over his mouth to wipe up any saliva. “I—wow. That’s just a total…wow.”
Donna blushed slightly; unable to help herself, she twirled slightly in front of him. “You really like it?” She took a step closer, hoping that it would only increase his torture. After all, the guy had been a jerk for way too long not to have to suffer, even for just a few minutes.
When she had sashayed in front of the mirror, the skirt had ridden up just enough to let Josh see her tight, creamy white calves beneath the material. He stood there, gobsmacked once more. CJ tried to help by leaning over and shutting his mouth for him.
“Very smooth there, Casanova.”
“I just hope Charlie likes it,” Donna added.
“Charlie?”
CJ shook her head. “Josh, you’re squeaking again. Didn’t you know that Donna is going to the wedding with Charlie?”
“I had no idea,” he answered honestly.
“Well, I am,” Donna piped up. “He’s already seen me in this once, but I’ll look even better once I have my hair done.”
Suddenly Josh didn’t feel like he could be in the same room with Donna anymore without doing something stupid—like jumping her right now. “I, uh…” he began. “I’d better get going. I’ve got to…you know…check in on Leo or something.”
Donna, who had moved back in front of the mirror, looked briefly over her shoulder at him and then shrugged in a total non-chalant kind of way. “Go ahead. CJ, can you help me with this zipper? I can never reach it.”
Josh’s eyes widened and he tried to catch a glimpse of Donna’s long, bare, alabaster back as he backed out of the fitting room area, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. Once he got outside onto Fifth Avenue, he shook his head as though to clear it.
Just what the hell had happened in there?
*****
Once Josh had left, the tension lifted. Diane, who had been silent the entire time, gave a low whistle.
“So that was Josh.” It wasn’t a question.
Donna nodded: “Yup, that’s my boss.”
“Wow. Not pretty, or even classically rugged but still…he’s hot.”
Donna looked over at CJ and shrugged slightly to hide her embarrassment. “Diane and I talked about a lot of things when we were looking for a new dress,” she muttered.
CJ smiled, but remained silent.
Diane, oblivious to the Press Secretary’s quiet stance, kept right on going. “I think you should totally torture him with that dress tonight.”
“Didn’t I just do that?”
“Not enough, sweetie. Make him writhe. You have never looked better in your life. And it’s high time that this guy gets a clue.”
Donna smiled and then looked at herself in the mirror once more. Skimming her hands over the velvety material, she took on a new aura of confidence. “CJ? What do you think?”
CJ’s face was totally unreadable as she spoke: “I think tonight is going to be a very interesting evening.”
*****
Josh stood outside of the hotel room, wondering if he should knock on the door. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he tried to make a decision. The gift bag dangled from his left hand; carrying it back from the store, he thought he had never quite seen a blue that exact colour before.
Once he had left the girls at Vera Wang, he hadn’t noticed exactly where he was going until his feet had stopped outside of the pink-marble building. Or, maybe, he had known all along in what direction he was headed.
Either way, he had done what he needed to do, and now here he stood.
Taking a deep breath, he raised a hand to rap on the door and then hesitated. He spun away quickly and nearly walked off, but something made him turn back with just as much speed. Maybe he should just leave the bag on the door handle and she could find it there later as a surprise.
But what if someone stole it? True, they were in the Waldorf Astoria, but you never knew who you could trust these days.
Before he could lose his nerve yet again, he banged on the door. Maybe she wasn’t there after all, and he would win a small reprieve—and more time to think about how to execute this like a real smooth operator. No damn tiki torches this time, that was for sure.
The door swung open.
His breath caught in his throat within a moment of laying eyes upon her.
Donna’s hair was wet from a recent shower and brushed back off of her face. All she wore was a cream-coloured towel, knotted at the top of her breasts.
“Josh?”
“Uh…hi. How you doing?”
She answered with a slightly wary look in her eye. “I’m fine.”
There was a lengthy pause where neither of them moved. He couldn’t stop staring at her eyes. They seemed so…so…blue. That made him think of the bag he was carrying.
“Here,” he announced, thrusting it out towards her. “I got this for you.”
Donna’s mouth fell open; her knuckles gripped the edge of the door-frame. “Josh! That’s from Tiffany’s!”
“Really?” He gave her one of his patented goofy grins. “How about that! So, do you want it or should I take it back?”
The bag was snatched away from him before another word was spoken. Donna had a very determined look about her as she tossed the tissue paper onto the floor, almost tearing at the bag to see what might be at its bottom.
“You know, I always took you for a very neat sort of present-unwrapper person.”
“And now?”
“You’re scaring me.”
She stopped talking completely when her hand closed around the tiny box the colour of a robin’s egg, tied with a bright white ribbon. She paused, afraid to open it.
“Go on,” he urged; his voice was low and almost rough when he spoke.
“Josh.”
“Donna.”
This time when she smiled, it lit up her entire face. “Why did you do this?”
“Are you gonna open that or not?” He moved as though to take the box away from her and she slapped him away with a resounding smack. He didn’t notice the sting, mainly because her quick action had made the towel around her nakedness slip a good inch, exposing even more of her creamy white flesh than he had ever seen before.
It took a superhuman effort to drag his eyes away from her chest and back to her face.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid to the small box. Now it was her turn to gasp and not know what to say. The necklace dangled from her fingers as she raised it out of its resting place. It was a long drop pendant in platinum, with two rows of graduated diamonds dangling from the bottom. One row was slightly longer than the other, giving it a jazzy, ultimately stylish feel.
“Oh, Josh. What have you done?”
“I thought it would go well with your dress for tonight. See how there’s two little strands of diamonds at the bottom? It’s a very unique design—rather like you, I thought.”
“Rather like us,” she mused quietly.
He looked away sheepishly so she wouldn’t see the hope in his eyes. “I just…I just wanted you to have it.”
Her face swam with tears and she bit her lip as she searched for a way to show her appreciation. Holding the necklace gently against her chest, she unconsciously hiked up her towel and then leaned in towards him. Josh lost himself briefly in the soft scent of her hair and the peachy smell of freshly-washed skin. Her lips brushed against his cheek—he half-hoped for a hug to go along with it, but considering that she was wearing nothing else except that towel, he knew it was a long shot.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered. “Really. It’s beautiful.”
“Well…um…” All he wanted to say was that she was just as beautiful too, if not more so, but he wasn’t sure it was right to say that just now. Plus, he didn’t think he could even get the words out because he felt so tongue-tied by her kiss. And, most of all, that was waaay too girly and mushy for any self-respecting macho, masculine man to say in front of a scarcely-clad female without backing it up with a helluva lot more intimate details.
Still, his chest felt almost painfully tight as he tried to say something coherent. “I…ah…I should get going.”
“Right. Of course.”
“I’ll see you at the thing tonight?”
“Of course,” she answered. “I wouldn’t miss this wedding for anything in the world.”
“Okay. See you then.”
He should have moved by now. Leaving was a simple act of putting one foot in front of the other, but his legs felt like two tonne weights as he stood before her.
Throwing all caution to the wind, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. He let his lips linger against her skin just a shade past what was normally considered ‘friendly’ and then paused again to sniff deeply along the crook of her neck. It was by far one of the most intimate things he had ever done and he knew he had to get out of there fast before he followed it up, because then they would never get to the ceremony.
By the time Donna was able to breathe again, Josh was already rounding the corner down the hall.
*****
He had almost made it back to his room when she found him. He would have been scott-free—free to have a shower, close his eyes and relish the tingling scent of Donna’s fresh, soft skin while the water sluiced over him—but fate had cursed Josh Lyman yet again with a hotel door that refused to comply with the damn plastic key card he now held in his hand.
No matter how smoothly or slowly or quickly he shoved it in, the door refused to click open. He had just banged his head against the wood rather painfully in a vain attempt to barge into the suite when he was found out.
“Joshua ‘Josh’ Lyman. Just the man I was coming to see.”
Still keeping his body slumped against the door, he turned slightly. “Hiya, CJ. You wouldn’t happen to know how to open one of these, would you?”
“A door? Can I open a door?”
He held up the key card, thoroughly defeated. “I’ll do anything you ask—just get me back in my room, okay?”
“Anything? This is too good to be true.” Taking the card, she slid it into the slot and pressed down on the handle. Josh sighed in relief as the door swung open and his room slowly appeared before them.
“Thanks, CJ. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Later? Oh, no. We need to talk NOW.”
“Really?” His voice quavered—after all, his heart had been pretty much set on Donna Fantasy Mode for at least the next forty minutes.
“You promised me anything.”
“I did, didn’t I? I really should think things through more sometimes.”
“Spoken like a true prophet of old.”
“Excuse me?”
CJ glared slightly. “We’re not doing this in the middle of a hotel hallway. Get in the room, pal o’-mine.”
Once inside, Josh tried to lighten the mood. Whatever CJ had to say—and it was probably something about not getting trashed tonight and humiliating her in front of the press covering Leo’s wedding—it could hardly dampen his mood after wowing Donna with his penchant for stellar romance.
“Now, CJ,” he began, his back still turned to her, “let me just start by saying—”
SMACK
“You’re an idiot.”
“What the hell was that for?” he yelped.
SMACK
“You’re a colossal idiot.” She raised her hand to slap the backside of his head again. “Wanna make me do it again?”
“No. No. Definitely not,” he muttered, rubbing his offended cranium.
“There are times when you seriously need help to get your head out of your ass.”
“I take it you’re saying that I screwed up somehow,” he guessed, still patting at the back of his head.
“Big time, Buster.”
Being called ‘Buster’ always made Josh go on the defensive. “And just what have I done today? Because, I’m telling you, CJ, today was not one of my ‘deputy downer’ days. Today has been and still is a fine day, a phenomenal day. The sun is shining, the wedding’s going to go off perfectly, and I have just made myself SO da man.”
“Then why were you acting like such a chumpish troglodyte at the dress shop this morning? I’ve never seen a guy so bowled over by a woman before. Your eyes were seriously bugging out of your head when Donna appeared in that dress.”
He smiled at the tasty memory. “She looked amazing, didn’t she?”
CJ took advantage of his brief pause to lunge at him. “Then WHY,” she yelled, punctuating every other word with a blow to the mid-section, “DID YOU RUN OFF LIKE THAT? Of all the dumb-ass, stupid, idiotic things I have seen you do around women—and trust me, I have seen a lot—that was, without a doubt, the most asinine, insensitive, jerk-ridden piece of behaviour since Romeo fell off the vines while climbing up to Juliet’s balcony!”
For a second he just looked at her, as though he had been hit with something between the eyes.
“What?”
“Sorry. Stratford Festival, 1997. Don’t ask.”
“Ah-kay.”
Sighing, CJ sat on the edge of Josh’s bed. “You want to do something that will make me stop hitting you?”
“Yes, please.”
Her eyes locked with his, underlining just how serious her next statement was: “Take Donna to the wedding.”
Josh looked utterly flummoxed. “I can’t do that!” he sputtered. “I can’t do that, CJ! You don’t just go up to a girl three hours before the event and ask her to go with you.”
CJ rolled her eyes. “You do that to Donna all the time!”
“That’s different! This is…different.”
Raising an eyebrow deftly, CJ countered him. “Really?”
“She’s already going with Charlie!”
“Big deal. You’re already going with me and I’ll cut you loose in a second if it’s for a good cause.”
“Are you dumping me?” he asked, shocked. Absurd pride made him rear up at the mere suggestion that he could be dumped after being so smooth with Donna only half an hour before. Then again, being free to escort Donna to the wedding would make his whole I-must-seduce-you-tonight-plan much easier to accomplish.
“Josh—get over yourself. I’m serious here. We’ve all been waiting, oh I don’t know, YEARS for you and Donna to finally figure things out between you. Don’t think I haven’t been tempted more than once to interfere just for the sake of my own sanity. After watching you with her this morning, I know you feel more for her than simple friendship.”
“It’s anything but simple,” he said.
“Then make a move already! But, I should tell you this too: you blow this—you hurt her in any way—I’m going to kick your ass from here to next Tuesday.”
“But—”
“No buts.” She held up a lone finger, effectively silencing him. “No buts. I mean it, Fly Boy. Get your head in the game, or you’re going to lose her.”
Now he could smile.
“Trust me, Claudia Jean, that is the last thing that’s going to happen. I already went and got her a little present to go with that delectable dress. From Tiffany’s. How’s that for absolute romantic prowess?”
“It’s a start, mi amor. Now finish it.” Standing, she moved to the door. “I’m going to go talk to Charlie. We’re all behind you on this one, Josh. Don’t screw up.” The door closed behind her with a silent click.
Stripping off his slacks, Josh headed for the shower. He’d show them all—Donna wasn’t going to know what hit her when he was through romancing her tonight. All he had to do now was make sure he didn’t slip on the wet bathroom tiles and crack his head open—because that really would be a stupid thing to do.
*****
The wedding was something out of a dream.
Donna had always pictured her own ceremony taking place in a little church somewhere; then, after coming to work at the White House, the little church had transformed itself into the National Cathedral.
Really, who was kidding who here?
After all, she did have connections to the President, and if the Rose Garden wasn’t in bloom…
In any event, Donna had thought a great deal about her own wedding over the years, but if she ever had it in a hotel ballroom, she wanted it to be just like Leo and Jordan’s.
There was a white runner coming down the aisle and reaching all the way back to the double oak doors that were thrown open just before Jordan began her march to the altar. Leo waited for his bride under a bower of climbing rambler roses. Fairy lights lit the small set of stairs leading up to where he stood and were also along the walls of the room in crazy patterns, but other than that, there were no decorations. The scent of the roses filled the room like a heady aroma of rich French wine, making Donna want to tip her head back and breathe in with her eyes closed.
Mallory, thrilled to see her father happy again, had quickly agreed to stand up for Jordan—the President stood to Leo’s right. No one had ever thought the Chief of Staff would ask anyone else to be his best man. As Mallory and then Jordan walked along the white runner, the President clapped a hand over Leo’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear that made the groom smile and blink away a tear.
There were about two hundred people filling the small ballroom at the Waldorf, watching the ceremony take place. CJ sat to Donna’s left on the groom’s side of the aisle and both women clutched at each other as Jordan walked by them in her pristine wedding gown.
It was a deceptively simple dress: off white duchess satin in an A-line cut with spaghetti straps leading up from the V-neck bodice. A swathe of white lace encircled Jordan’s torso and a pale blue ribbon was tied about her waist. The material fell away from her hips and lengthened into a six foot train at the back.
But, most important of all, it had the swish.
“The swish!” Donna whispered excitedly.
“So totally the swish!” CJ agreed.
Both women smiled fondly as Jordan walked past them and they listened eagerly to the soft rustle and whisper of her train as it moved up the aisle.
In her hands were half a dozen First Lady Roses—the white ones with the slightly pink tipped centre—that the bride handed off to Mallory once the vows began.
Without realising what she was doing, Donna sighed and began to finger the necklace Josh had given her while her other hand played with the lush fabric of her velvet dress. It was a perfect moment for Leo and Jordan that she only wished she could someday have too.
*****
He had not been able to take his eyes off her throughout the entire ceremony. It was probably a stroke of complete luck that Toby and Will sat between him and Donna, otherwise he would have been there stroking her dress too.
Now, looking at her face as she watched the pair at the front of the room, Josh knew more than ever that he couldn’t screw this up.
But, hey, he hadn’t fallen in the shower, so things were off to a pretty good start.
*****
Champagne bubbles tickled Donna’s nose as she looked about the room. They had moved from the smaller room set aside for the actual wedding ceremony to the main ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria, where the reception was now in full swing. She thought she remembered seeing pictures of Grace Kelly having an engagement party in this very room in the 1950s before heading off to Monaco and becoming a princess.
And now here she was, blond, svelte, not exactly an Oscar-winning movie goddess, but something definitely close by West Wing standards—but with no prince.
Then again, Josh had done wondrous things today. Her fingers moved up again to touch the diamond necklace that hung from her neck and rested on the beginning swell of her cleavage. It was so beautiful; she still couldn’t believe he had bought it for her. And from Tiffany’s! Someone must have give that man a good talking to, because in all her years of working alongside him, Josh had never been so romantically perfect for such a long stretch before. It was really rather frightening, but in a good way.
She also couldn’t help thinking that midnight was less than an hour away—midnight on New Year’s Eve when someone would have to come by and kiss her during the singing of Auld Lang Syne. Her chest got tight just wondering what might happen then.
President Bartlet had given a very heartfelt and touching toast to the newly married couple soon after the night began.
“Leo McGarry has been that irksome angel on my shoulder for longer than I care to think about. And he also fills in for the devil on the other shoulder when Toby is out of town!”
Josh had burst out laughing at that point and Donna had a few seconds worrying she’d have to take him out of the ballroom before he hurt himself—or, more to the point, Toby hurt him. The President had winked at his Communications Director and continued on.
“Leo runs my White House and I run his love life. If I remember correctly, I was the one who pushed Leo to ask Jordan out for dinner in the first place. Yes, that’s right, Leo,” he chortled, “this is all because of me.” There were some more polite guffaws and then things had taken on a slightly more momentous tone. “No, seriously folks, what we all witnessed today was two people we all know and love finally getting their act together and indulging in a little romance. And about time too!”
Donna felt that President Bartlet was looking at her and her brilliant new necklace as he had said that. Just as quickly she had felt a burning heat rush through her body, as though she was being watched by more than just one person. She looked around surreptitiously only to find Josh staring at her. Intuitively she knew it was with the same look on his face now that she got whenever she saw rich, chocolate cake with hot chocolate sauce—or whenever she though about Josh without any of his clothes on. In fact, it was definitely the no-clothes-on look, because chocolate certainly never gave her a rush like the one she had felt just then.
Blushing furiously, she held his eyes for a second longer than she thought wise and then turned her attention back to the President. Little did she know that her fingers had clutched the entire time to the necklace at the base of her throat.
“I think,” Jed had continued, “that the Song of Solomon includes some of the most beautiful words ever written in the English language. Certainly, it has some appropriate phrases for a couple very much in love on a day like today. So, if you will permit me:
By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth:
I sought him, but I found him not.
I will rise now,
And go about the city in the streets,
And in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth:
I sought him, but I found him not.
The watchmen that go about the city found me:
To whom I said, “Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?”
It was but a little that I passed from them,
But I found him whom my soul loveth:
I held him, and would not let him go,
Until I had brought him into my mother’s house,
And into the chamber of her that conceived me.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem,
By the roes, and by the hinds of the field,
That ye stir not up, nor awake my love,
Till he please.
I am not about to try and outdo the observations of King Solomon and, besides, I don’t think I can say anything more fitting than that, to all of you.” Raising his glass, the President saluted his Chief of Staff and best friend, and then gallantly kissed Jordan’s hand. “Ladies and gentlemen! The Adorable Couple!”
Everyone chorused back, “The Adorable Couple!” and raised their champagne flutes. Donna had dared to look back in Josh’s direction—his eyes were locked on her face in an instant. Lifting his glass to her, he smiled. She smiled back as the butterflies in her stomach whirled about and made her feel deliciously dizzy and light.
Now, it was several hours and even more glasses of champagne later. Music filled the room; Leo and Jordan looked absolutely inseparable, though the President had managed to steal the bride for a lone waltz.
Donna had danced with Charlie—as a consolation for breaking his well-intentioned date for the evening—but her eyes kept flittering over to where Josh stood near Toby against the wall. She knew he wasn’t one for dancing, but still, shouldn’t he have asked her to dance by now? Otherwise, why had he bought the necklace and said all those sweet things? Why had he reacted so intensely to her in the dress that morning if he hadn’t had any plans for at least dancing with her once tonight?
There was always a point during a formal evening when Donna felt sad. It happened every time: at her junior and senior prom, at the formals she had gone to during her limited university career, definitely at all of the White House white-tie events—excluding that one fantastic inaugural ball when she had arrived at the party fresh from a ride on Josh’s lap in the limo, but that had been a completely insane night. It was the exception that made the rule. Somehow, the act of putting on an expensive, beautiful gown always made her expectations soar, and then things would never be quite as good as she had hoped.
In another five minutes, she could add Leo’s wedding to the list of Cinderella evenings that just didn’t quite have that happy ending she curiously always expected.
“Donna!”
She looked over to see CJ shimmying towards her across the dance floor. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
Donna smiled. “I don’t know.”
“That’s a silly answer.”
“Definitely.”
“Come! Dance! Be merry! Show off that fantabulous dress so that everyone can see it!”
Smoothing a hand down the rich fabric, Donna felt her smile suffuse the rest of her face with brilliance. “It really does look nice, doesn’t it?”
“Nice? You must be out of your mind. You’re a complete knock-out! All anyone has to do is to watch a certain Deputy Chief of Staff to know how killer you look tonight. Plus, it’s nearly New Year’s—you have to get a dance in by midnight!”
“You certainly have been dancing up a storm with a certain British Lord tonight.”
“Isn’t he fabulous? I love John Marbury—he calls me principessa.”
“I know,” Donna said. “You’ve told me before.”
“Well, I love it.”
“As well you should. But—I’m confused. I thought you were coming tonight with Josh. I heard him ask you back in Vera Wang a few days ago.”
CJ shrugged mysteriously. “Things change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come and dance, Donna! Pretty soon I’ll be doing ‘The Jackal’ and then I’m leaving as quickly as possibly before Toby begins to play an air-bass guitar.”
“Well, maybe I’ll come out for a quick spin—”
Just then, she felt a hand against the small of her back. She turned around, never noticing CJ slipping away back onto the dance floor. At that moment, all she could see was Josh.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
He ran a hand along her arm, taking a step backwards to look at her from tip to toes. “You look amazing.”
“Is that what you were going to tell me this morning, but couldn’t?”
“Maybe.” His smile was rakishly unreadable. “What did you think of the President’s toast?”
“It was beautiful. Didn’t you think that?”
“Of course…I just…you know…I thought it could apply to more than just Leo and Jordan.”
It was getting hard for her to breathe. At some point, he would have to do something Joshishly stupid, right?
“Um, yes. Of course it could.” Before she could say anything else, she felt an overwhelming urge to finish off her champagne. Swallowing the last few dregs, she saw that Josh was doing the same thing.
“How many of those have you had tonight?” she asked, gesturing to his own now-empty champagne flute.
“A few,” he smiled.
“Oh dear.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” she said, sounding not in the least bit contrite. “I just keep having this image of you with some stripper’s panties slung around your neck, smelling like the ninth ring of Hell.”
“I’ll never live that down, will I?”
“Nope.”
Josh took their glasses and set them down on sidetable. “So, how are you doing?”
“All right.” Her voice was quietly soft as she answered. “You?”
“Well, I’ve kind of had this problem all night.”
She immediately became concerned and took a step closer to him as though she might suddenly reach out and feel his forehead to take his temperature. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling all right? Is your head hot?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Well, not ‘fine’ but—”
“But what?”
Looking her straight in the eye, he told her the truth. “Donna, I am never going to be ‘fine’ when you are standing there in front of me wearing that dress. Never.”
For a brief second she didn’t move, but then a blush began to bloom across her breasts and touching the skin along her alabaster neck. “Is that so?”
“Didn’t you see me this morning when you first put it on?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “That was kind of hard to miss.”
He wanted to touch her. His fingers itched to touch her, but something stopped him. Whatever it was also stopped their conversation. An awkward silence settled over them.
“So.”
“So.”
“What happened to Charlie?” he asked. “I thought he was your date for tonight.”
“What happened to CJ?” she countered.
Josh shrugged. “I couldn’t compare with Lord John Marbury in a tuxedo. I always knew she’d ditch me for a bad man with a good accent. And you?”
“Charlie was sweet to ask me, but I think it was fairly close to being a pity thing.”
“Pity? He pitied you? You have got to be joking.”
Donna looked down at the floor and then at the couples dancing. “I had just found out that the man I like wasn’t going to be my date for tonight. I was in a bit of a funk.”
“Oh.” Josh immediately backed away from her. “I see.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t think you do.”
Josh began to say anything to keep himself from thinking about Donna liking some random stranger he had never heard of before. “Well, it was…uh…really nice of Charlie to want to be…you know…your ‘escort’ for tonight.”
“It was very nice, but I let him know earlier today that I really should be on my own.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You want to be alone? Really? Okay.”
A tiny crinkle appeared in the middle of her brow as she watched his reaction to her news. “Josh? You look kind of weird.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in anyone new these days.”
“Did I say that?”
“Didn’t you?”
Thoughts of all the gomers and boyfriends in Donna’s love life flashed before his eyes. There had been Commander Jack Reeses-Pieces and Cliff ‘Wonder Boy’ Calley—and, the loser to end all losers, Dr Freeride. What had been going on with him that he hadn’t noticed her falling for anyone new? She hadn’t been on any dates in a while. Maybe it was some new jerky intern in OEOB, or—God help them all—some Republican from the Hill that had been sent down to meet with him one day and she had chatted him up at her desk. Any scenario he thought of spelled absolute disaster.
Then Donna spoke and disturbed his silent mental torture. “It’s not anyone new,” she confessed.
“So it’s someone old.”
“Well, I don’t know if he would ever think of himself as an older man, though he certainly has about a decade on me.”
Josh began to fidget. It was all getting to be a bit too much. “Right. Well. That’s…yeah. Okay, I’m going to go over there now.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Josh.”
“Donna.”
“Josh!” Donna smacked him on the arm—hard. “You’re an idiot!”
“You know, that’s the second time today that a woman has hit me and then said that. I’m getting really tired of it. I am not an idiot. I happen to be a very smart man.”
“Yes, you are. But you’re also an idiot. There are times when I just can’t believe you!” She now stood less than a foot away from him—he could have put his arm around her if she gave him the chance. Her tone was harsh, but her words seemed soft and heartfelt. “You walk into the dress shop this morning and make me feel like the sexiest woman alive just from the way you looked at me. Then, this afternoon, you give me this necklace and make me feel like a princess. You’re just so—and you make me feel so—good and beautiful and pretty and smart—and now you’re just going to walk away from me? Why? It’s you, Josh! It’s always been you!”
Her words hit him like a ton of bricks. All the restraint that had been controlling him fell away. His hand traced the curve of her hip, touching that amazing dress. “Really?” he asked. It was all he could say just then.
Donna reached out and touched his face, closing the gap between them. “Who else?” she whispered. “Do you hear me in there? It has always been you.”
The dimples dug deep crevices into his face as he gave her the biggest smile of his life. He moved a hairsbreadth closer to her and then suddenly became serious. Taking her hand, he tried to lead her to the nearest exit.
“Okay, we need to leave now.”
“What?” Donna asked.
“We. Need. To. Leave. Now.” Just in case she didn’t catch his drift, he wiggled his eyebrows at her in what he hoped was a really sexy, suave move.
“Why do we need to leave right now?”
“Because,” he whispered urgently, “I need to touch you and I can’t do that here.”
“Yes, you can,” she whispered back.
The feel of her breath on his ear made his jaw tighten. “You’re not making sense.”
“Look. Feel this.” She took his hand and ran it up the velvet bodice of her burgundy dress, so that his hand moved with the fibres rather than against them.
The noise that came out of Josh’s mouth could only be characterised as a slightly dignified squeak. “Okay.” He looked around the ballroom and then headed back towards its centre. Crooking a finger, he beckoned Donna to follow. “Come here.”
“What are we doing now?”
“Dancing,” he answered one moment before their feet hit the marble floor.
“But, Josh!” Donna hissed. “You can’t dance!”
“Do you really care right now?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Good. Come here,” he growled and then took her in his arms.
Neither Josh nor Donna noticed anyone else swirling about beside them. They only had eyes for each other. Josh’s hand splayed across Donna’s back, holding her tightly against him as they swayed to the slow beat. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder so that his nostrils filled with the sweet scent of her shampoo. After a few minutes they dropped the traditional pose; Josh slid his hands down to the curves of her hips, stroking at the smoothness of her dress all the time, while Donna linked her arms around his neck and rocked against him.
Leaning down, he began to whisper in her ear. “Donna?”
“Mmm?”
“When I found out that Charlie was taking you to the wedding, I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.”
She laughed into his lapels. “Is that why you started to woo me this afternoon?”
“Wooing is important. I have this memory of someone repeatedly telling me that women like to be wooed while I tried to fire her.”
“What happened?”
“She was impervious.”
“Well, whoever she was, she was right. Women like to be wooed.”
“So I should keep it up?”
The mischievous gleam in her eyes as she looked up at him told him she had caught him in a risky double entendre. “Should I?” he urged.
“Why ever not?”
They lapsed into a delicious silence once more, holding each other, until Josh suddenly groaned and pulled away.
“I can’t get enough.”
“Enough of what?” she asked, truly curious.
“This.” He bent down and breathed in the scent of where her neck met her shoulder, just as he had done after giving her the necklace. “This smell,” he continued, “just here. It drove me crazy this afternoon.”
“Hold on.” Leaning in, she smelled the skin near his shirt collar. “That’s nice.”
“You like my aftershave?”
“Not just that.” She leaned in again and sniffed deeply, then bent her head back and closed her eyes. “It’s the aftershave and also your soap and whatever they use to press your suit and, well, something that’s just—just you.”
He pulled her closer than ever before, wrapping his arms around her. When she looked at him, he was wearing that cocky grin of his that never failed to make her weak in the knees.
“You know, that’s just a small little bit of me you smelled right there.”
“What are you saying Mr Lyman—that I should smell the rest of you?”
“Definitely.”
Her eyes never left his as he leaned in to kiss her. She could feel his breath on her lips and knew that her own were parting slightly to welcome him home.
They never got that far, as the President once again grabbed the microphone and began the countdown to midnight. Someone jostled Donna so that she fell against Josh’s chest. He missed her lips and ended up kissing her ear before slightly staggering from the odd angle. She righted herself immediately and began to brush down her dress, in case it had ridden up in the sudden crush of people.
They didn’t say anything as the last moments of the year slipped away. “10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
“Happy New Year, Josh.”
He smiled. “The first of many, Donna.”
“What does that me—mmmmph.” His mouth closed over hers before she could even finish her thought.
His lips were warm and sweet, tasting of the champagne and something sugary, like cake icing. She liked it. A frisson of something electric raced down her spine until she thought every hair on her body must be standing on end. It was…unbelievable.
“Wow,” she breathed, when they parted.
“Yeah.”
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I kind of—” She began to tip her mouth up to his again.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
The second kiss was deeper. They moulded their bodies together so that there was no space in between them. The tip of his tongue tickled the outline of her mouth but never quite demanded entry. For an endless time they remained locked together, twisting their heads to gain a better angle. His hands framed her face as their lips meshed together again and again and again.
It was hard to breathe when they parted this time. Donna thought she might actually be panting. “That was…”
“Totally wicked.”
“God, yes.”
They looked at each other, eyes locked, mouths parted, not moving.
Then they fell into each other’s arms.
This time there was nothing restrained or polite about the kiss. It was rough, primal and totally hot. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting, tracing, and teasing every inch he could touch. Then she joined him in a playful joust, running her hands through his hair before winding her arms around his neck. His hands raced up and down her back, never feeling enough of that burgundy dress that drove him wild.
They broke apart only when it became absolutely necessary to breathe. Josh rested his forehead against hers.
“You…wanna…go for a walk?” he croaked.
“Not…really.”
“Oh.” His arms fell away from her body. Donna took a step backwards and then reached out for his hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to go upstairs?”
His head shot up, all smiles and grins and fabulous dimples. “Seriously?”
“Joshua, I am always serious when I’m in the middle of seducing a really hot man.”
“Oh, no. I am the one seducing you.”
“I beg to differ.” Lightly holding his wrist, she let his fingers graze up the bodice of her dress once more, stopping just below the swells of her breasts. “THAT is the feeling of seduction.”
Josh got this look in his eye, like he was being challenged. But this time, it wasn’t some hard-nosed Republican, but a very beautiful and apparently willing Donna. It was a contest straight out of his fantasies.
“Donna, I won’t deny that you look and feel amazing, but trust me—I am about to knock your socks off.”
“I’m not wearing any socks.”
“Even better.”
Holding hands like the Campbell Soup Kids, they left the ballroom and began to run up the main staircase together. No doubt the rest of the staff had seen them leave together, but it wasn’t like it was a real surprise that they had finally figured things out.
Really, who was kidding who here?
With one hand holding up the front of her gown so she could climb the stairs, Donna turned and looked at Josh. “You know,” she began, “I’ve had a fair bit of champagne tonight.”
“Are you telling me that you’re squiffy?”
“No, Josh, I’m not like you in that respect. But I might have a bit of a champagne headache by morning.”
“I might too.”
“That could be interesting.”
“Well,” he said in his most chivalrous tone of voice, “I’ll hold your head.”
“I’ll hold yours.”
“But we’ve a little while before we start worshipping the porcelain gods, right?”
She smiled. “Oh, most definitely.”
“Then there’s not any time to waste, is there?”
Swinging her up into his arms, he made a dash for the elevator. Donna screeched and then began to laugh. The day, and especially the night, had been a great success and now she was going to have her greatest triumph—as soon as she could get out of her dress!
But as the elevator doors closed and Josh pinned her against the wall, kissing her senseless, she thought she just might be able to find someone to help her with that tricky zipper in the back.