Good Evening, Mr President

Chapter 1

Collecting the post, I walked in from work, flicking through the letters to see if anything was for me. I was a 23 year old woman, living in Washington, D.C. With my mother, who was a government worker. Like usual, all the mail was for her, as I tossed it on the table, I removed my black coat. Sitting back, I noticed a letter from the White House.

"Mom!" I yelled upstairs, as I assumed she'd be getting ready for a meeting or something as such.

"Yes darling? I didn't know you were home, what is it anyway?" she shouted down.

"A letter from the White House."

With that, I heard some scrambling, and my mother ran down the stairs, with half a head of rollers in. An excited expression covered her face, the president was holding a small reception and there was an invitation for her and a guest to attend.

"Do you want to come with me?" she asked, beaming, so I nodded, breathless.

"When is it?" I asked

"Saturday." She yelled, running back upstairs . Saturday, that was two days, two days to buy the perfect dress, to work out my hair, to impress.

Almost immediately, I ran out of the door and into the city, to a boutique I knew. The dresses stocked there were beautiful, and I knew exactly which one I wanted.

******Saturday******

I rolled my long blonde hair back into a bun, and put on a drop of my Chanel no.5 perfume that I'd got for my birthday. As I walked downstairs, I lifted the skirt of my blue silk dinner dress. It hugged my waist, and fell like water down my legs. It felt right, like I belonged in it. My mother entered the room in a smart purple dress suit, and gasped.

"Anyone would think that you're trying to get the president married to you." she chuckled at me, and we walked to the car.

I took a deep breath, as we pulled up to the venue. The chalk white manor looked majestic as it lit up in front of me, and our small car was made even smaller by the mass of limousines that surrounded us. A valet knocked on the window, and parked our car as we walked into the house. The first person I saw was the First Lady, Jackie Kennedy shaking hands with guests. When she got to me, she looked straight at my dress.

"You look beautiful." she smiled, as she shook my hand. I was awe struck, the First Lady thought I looked beautiful.

"As do you Mrs Kennedy." I stuttered, and walked on. Then, as soon as we got to the living room, I was greeted by a familiar face. Well, familiar through newspapers and such. He was much more handsome in real life, and taller than I'd expected. I reached him, and when we shook hands, our eyes met, and our hands lingered in the connected position.

"Good evening miss, you look positively stunning." His voice forced me to take a breath.

"Good evening, Mr President." I relied...