Preston

Wednesday February 27

11:51 AM

I called Macey for about the millionth time this week, and, once again, reached her voicemail. I tossed the phone at the bed in frustration, watching dispassionately as it bounced off and hit the hard wood floor. "Damn it Macey," I sighed.

It had been a week since she got drunk and called me. It had also been a week since I'd heard from her.

I had also called Liz, Bex and Cammie, but neither of them had answered either.

I would see all of them this evening though, the Spanish Delegation was arriving tonight, and we were hosting a dinner with dancing after in their honor.

It was also our debut as a couple, our publicist had been ecstatic when I revealed our new status to her, and she had insisted we would be the next "power-couple" but only if we "Came out with the right amount of pizzazz!" Debra Lassiter was the kind of woman who used words like "Pizzazz" and "Fantabulous" a lot.

Macey just loved her.

"Mr. Winters?" someone knocked on my door, "your mother would like to see you in the front parlor before lunch."

I sighed and tucked my phone back into my pocket and went to meet my mother for lunch.

My mother was waiting for me when I arrived. She stood by the door, examining her flawless makeup in the mirror. " Mother," I said, as I entered "You look lovely."

"Why, thank you, darling." She said to me, brushing a lily-scented kiss over my cheek, careful not to actually touch my skin. "Shall we go?"

My mother and I ate lunch together every Wednesday. Debra Lassiter had arranged it to be leaked to the press, and they just loved it, and made a point of bringing it up, and taking pictures every, single, week.

We went to a classy little eatery known for its delicious food, small portion sizes and exorbitant prices. My mother loved it; I always had to pick something else up on the way back to school.

I went to an exclusive Professional Children's School which allowed me to travel with my father and miss school to go to lunch with my mother, or spend all day preparing for an evening event, which she insisted was entirely necessary.

"So, darling, when exactly where you intending to tell me about your new relationship with the McHenry girl?" My mother asked when the waiter had delivered their food and retreated. My mother's voice was deceptively soft, cutting, the one she used when she caught my father with one of his secretaries. She was a Senators wife to the letter, classy, loyal and as passive aggressive as they came.

I froze, a bite of my lasagna an inch from my mouth. I carefully lowered my fork and gave my full attention to my mother, who demurely placed a bite of her endive salad into her mouth. Her eyes met mine, much more indicative of her present mood then her tone of voice.

"I see you spoke to Ms. Lassiter."

"I didn't have to," my mother reached into her purse and pulled out one of the rattier tabloids that centered in Washington DC. The cover was a picture of Macey and I in that little café where we had hammered out our relationship, taken through the window. Macy's Boy! The headline read, then smaller, underneath it What will Mama say about her baby's new romance? Macey's hand covered her eyes, signaling she had known about our audience. Why hadn't she told me?

"You aren't to see this girl, Preston, she is trouble, and you know this. Publicity can make her look pretty, but you know why she's at that school. Her parents have to take drastic measures to keep her in line and I do not want you around her any more then you must to support your father. Do you understand? Good." She sighed and picked up her red wine, satisfied that the conversation was finished; I was impressed that it was only her first glass. As if on cue, she signaled the waiter for a refill.

I sighed, trying to push down my anger, not only for her unjust judgment of Macey's character, but also at her lack of respect for me. As if I would cave that easily.

You always have before, the insecure part of me pointed out.

"Mother, I do not wish to make a scene, we all know how you loath bad press, but I swear to you, if you ever say anything so derogatory about Macey, I will call the press myself and tell them about Father's girlfriends and your love affair with wine, and then no one will believe those wonderful little pictures you paint of your perfect family, now will they?" my voice was just as soft and I smiled at her warmly, for our audience.

My mother's answering smile looked sincere upon her painted lips, but her eyes were hard, and her knuckles whitened against the glass as she took a sip of her wine. "Careful, my dear, for all your little stories about our family, I have dozens about that girl, things you don't even know. Now, would you like to order dessert, or shall we go?"

I called Ms. Lassiter as soon as I was back in my room, thankful to be away from the frigid silence of my mothers company.

"Did you tell the press about my relationship with Miss McHenry?" I snapped, ignoring her polite greeting

"Mr. Winters, I am aware of the unfortunate publication, but I have no idea how it was leaked. I can assure you that we are doing everything we can to find the culprit, we are working on a statement as we speak that should be ready before the event tonight."

"Don't bother, the press will get plenty of pictures this evening, just don't let anything else slip through the cracks, are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

I hung up and began to dress myself in a silk suit and scarlet tie, to match Macey's dress.

All four girls were beautiful, but I couldn't avert my eyes from Macey, she glowed in a scarlet dress that hugged her curves before gently flaring to her ankles. "Miss McHenry," I greeted her, kissing her hand, my eyes never leaving her face, accusing her for her silence.

"Mr. Winters," she replied with an icy polite smile. "It is wonderful to see you again, shall we proceed?"

Her campaign face was on, and that was beginning to piss me off because she hadn't worn it around me since the first weeks I had known her.

I wrapped her hand around my arm and lead her to her seat at the table, between her parents, while I sat between mine. The other girls sat at another table close by, with their dates.

A discreet bell chimed a few minutes later, signaling the beginning of the meal. Mr. McHenry gave a speech welcoming the delegation and reinforcing the friendship between nations but I barely heard him, even though political speeches usually fascinated me, I was too focused on Macey and her sudden coldness.

The meal seemed to last forever, and the food, flawlessly prepared, tasted like sawdust on my tongue. I made small talk and smiled when prompted, but otherwise stayed silent, noticing that Macey did the same.

After what felt like hours, the waiters in their cream jackets cleared away the crème brulee plates and a live string quartet began to tune their instruments.

"Dance with me." I ordered Macey softly, as soon as it was socially acceptable. She smiled politely and glanced around expectantly. "Are you waiting for someone to rescue you?"

"Of course not." She replied standing up and putting her arm in mine.

I waited until the music started before pulling her close to my body despite her resistance. "What is wrong with you? Why are you angry at me?"

"I'm not angry, why would I be angry?" she sounded cold and bored.

"Well, I don't know, you'll just have to tell me."

"God!" Bex cried, dancing by us in Grants arms. "You are both so stupid! She's all pissy because she called you when she was drunk and can't remember what she said. Oh, and because you told the press about your relationship." She spun away, her purple skirt floating behind her.

Macey looked a little pink, but her face remained neutral. "I don't think here is the best place to talk about what you said, but you were upset because you felt like the girls only loved you because of Gilly, and wanted to make sure I wanted you for you. Which is ridiculous because they are awesome friends, and I already told you why I wanted you."

"You're sweet," Macey said, leaning in to kiss me gently, her lips soft and smooth against mine.

"And about the other thing, I have no idea how the press knew, but I didn't tell them."

"I know, but it was easier to blame you while I was already mad, Liz scanned the photo and is tracing it, we'll know where it came from soon." She smiled slightly.

"So," I clasped her a little closer to me. "Are we good?"

"For now, but I am going to want more jewelry."