Chapter 2
As I arrived at the White House with my dress and makeup bag, I looked up in awe at it. It's well manicured lawns and freshly trimmed shrubs stood neat and proud. I'd been here a dozen times an knew most of the staff by their first names and nicknames. I felt so privileged to be able to walk freely in the White House, with the exception of a fee rooms such as the Oval Office. I came here so often that the security guards had even stopped patting me down at request of the President. The SUV pulled up next to the house and a guard opened the door for me, and I shrieked when I saw who it was.
"Good mornin', Ms. Clara," Thomas said. Thomas was my favorite security guard. In his late 60s, he was really nice and polite to everyone he met. His dark skin and greying hair added to his easy going nature and his Southern accent tended to make me smile. He had a wife, Miss Sarah, who was a cook in the kitchen. On weekends, their youngest son, Rodney, would come to the White House to visit and was always welcomed with open arms.
"Hi, Thomas," I said, giving him a hug.
"Ms. Mikayla is waitin' for ya up in her room," He said as he closed the limo door and waved the driver away.
"Thank you, Thomas. I'll expect some of Miss Sarah's famous biscuits and gravy to be sent up to the room." I replied with a playful wink and started up the stairs.
As I walked through the house, I waved to the guards and workers rushing about already getting things ready for the party. The White House always seemed to take my breath away no matter how many times I stepped foot in it. For a low life person like me, it was an utter honor to be able to walk the same halls as the past presidents.
As I was looking around with a huge grin on my face, I wasn't looking where I was going and ended up running into a wall and hitting my head on something hard. Falling onto my butt, I rubbed my forehead. I looked up to see not a wall but a human. A boy who looked to be about 22. I stared at him, taking in his curly black hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. The dude looked good for a security guard, even I had to admit, and I've only dated 2 people in my whole life.
"Are you okay?" He asked, getting up from his fall and extending a hand toward me.
"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, ignoring his hand and picking up my makeup bag and dress that had fallen on the floor. I got up from the floor as he put his arm back to his side and looked at me, examining me.
"You're Clara Auro?" He asked, eyes narrowing at me.
"Yeah. What's it to you?" I snapped. I knew I was being an ass, but what can I say? Hot guys irritate me. They're all the same. All they are are stupid, arrogant, hotheaded, narcissistic buttheads with good looks. They always know that they look better than everyone else and they know how to play that rich boy card very well to say the least.
"Sorry," He said, hands up in surrender, "I just thought you would be older."
Well I took that into offense and huffed. Sticking my nose in the air like a queen bee bitch, I stalked off to Mikayla's room at the end of the hall, making sure to shove his shoulder as I brushed past him without a word. Like I said, Hot guys get on my nerves and being short and sharp tongued with them helps keep them away from me, which means, no more heartbreak for me.
I knocked on Mikayla's door and it opened, but before I could say it was me, a hand shot out, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me inside before I could protest. I looked over at her in mild annoyance. Her blonde hair was hanging damp around her shoulders and her bright green eyes took in my appearance, traveling every inch of me.
"We've got work to do," she said, sighing. She took my dress and makeup bag out of my hands and placed the dress on the bed and makeup in the bathroom. As she unzipped the bag that held my dress, she gasped. "There is no way this is yours!"
