Dear Diary, it's Marilyn

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

I woke the next morning feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, and without a hangover, thank the Lord! Sitting up in bed with a yawn, I reached my arms over my head and arched my back. Nothing like a good stretch to get the day started…

But where was John? His side of the bed was empty and his clothes had been picked up off the floor. Surely he hadn’t left me to sleep alone after the night we shared?

With my good mood dampened and the indignity of the situation leaving a blush in my cheeks, I threw on a robe and left the bedroom, barely resisting the urge to slam the door behind me to let the rest of the guests know how upset I was.

I went downstairs expecting everyone to be sitting down to breakfast but was shocked to find the kitchen and dining room empty. Completely miffed, I seriously considered phoning a cab to take me home when I had the idea to check the patio for guests. Sure enough, there they were, or some of them at least. A woman was sitting on the side of the pool, dipping her toes in the clear water. A man lay on a floatation device drifting in slow circles. And then I spotted John reclining in a chair, lazily flipping through this morning’s paper.

I made my way toward him, taking care to mask my annoyance with feigned calmness. I didn’t want to scare him off.

“Marilyn!” John put the paper down to greet me with his ever-so-charming grin, “I was wondering when you’d come down.”

At least he’d been thinking about me… “I’m awake now. Where are all the others?”

“Crosby took Phil and a few others for a ride around town. A couple people left early this morning.” John shrugged as if he couldn’t care less what the other guests were doing.

“Is this,” I gestured toward the pool, “all we’re going to do today then?” I wouldn’t have minded a ride through town…

John laughed, “To be fair, there’s not much of the day left, Marilyn. It’s already past one in the afternoon.”

My eyes widened. “Is it really that late?” John nodded, amused. “Well,” I smiled flirtatiously, “I was very tired after last night.”

John abruptly reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me down so I was sitting in his lap. The newspaper he had been reading was tossed to the side.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll have to take you upstairs again, Miss Monroe.” He held me with both arms, our faces almost touching. Was he no longer concerned about hiding our affair from the public eye? Had last night completely changed the dynamics of our relationship?

I leaned in and gave him a quick, chaste kiss, almost hoping someone was watching. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.” I placed my hand on his chest, absentmindedly tracing the pattern on his shirt as I watched John through hooded eyes.

“It’s a shame this weekend had to end so quickly. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Marilyn.”

“Don’t act as though we won’t see each other again, Mr. President. California isn’t so far from D.C., you know.”

He chuckled heartily. “Darling, you say the silliest things.”

I felt the need to press a point. “And you,” I tapped his nose playfully, “make up for my silliness with your brains. It’s too bad we didn’t meet sooner. We’d have made a good pair, you and I.” Curiously I looked into his eyes to see if he caught my hint, only to see him look away hurriedly. What had I said wrong?

“You’re not first lady material, Marilyn. You shouldn’t be so ambitious; it doesn’t suit you.”

Furiously I stood up, not wanting to be in such close proximity with him anymore. Never had I wanted to slap a man so badly.

“I’m too ambitious? Ha!” I laughed dryly, hardly finding any humor in the situation. “This coming from the President of the United States!”

“Exactly!” He hissed, not wanting to draw any more attention to our argument. “I am the president and I could never be married to a woman who enjoys scandal nearly as much as you. A first lady has to be well-liked without ever causing issues.”

“And Jackie does just that, doesn’t she?” I sneered.

“Let’s not talk about her right now, Marilyn.” John sounded frustrated. “This was supposed to be a pleasant weekend, just you and me. Don’t ruin it.”

I shook my head as I backed away. “The weekend is over, John. Go back to Washington and to your wife. Jackie may be the perfect first lady but she is nothing compared to me. When you realize just how boring she really is, you know where to find me.”

And I left without another word. What a way to end such a perfect weekend in Palm Springs. But he would call, I was sure of it. And the next time we saw each other we would make up and I would pretend to be content playing the role of his mistress a while longer.