By Lacy

The next day, Thursday, the President gives his official announcement declaring Wesley Prescher as the newly appointed Secretary of the Interior. Predictably, this causes a flurry of questions from the Press Corps, none of which are inflammatory -- much to my relief.

Following the speech, CJ takes the podium for non-appointment related questions, which leads to inquiries about me and Donna and a certain retirement Gala. CJ glances in my direction, and I give her a nod and a smile.

"Yes Andrea, Josh and Donna will be attending the retirement Gala, as official Significant Others."

I cringe. God, I hate that term. Something must be done about it. I turn to go, but Carol stops me and asks me to stay until the briefing is finished.

When the Press Corps' appetite has been satisfied, CJ descends from the stage and pulls me along side of her.

"There's a rep from Vera Wang in my office as we speak."

"That was quick," I respond.

"We don't have a whole lot of time here, Josh. Did you ask, Donna?"

"I did," I say.

"What did you say to her?" She's interrogating me for details, searching for signs of screw-ups that will have to be glazed over.

God, this could be embarrassing. "I told her that I would...."

"Yes?"

"I told her that I would be honored if I could escort Cinderella to her ball." I think I may actually be blushing. CJ stops walking and turns to me.

"You actually said that?"

"Yes."

"Where's a tape recorder when you need one?"

"I know. I was corny."

"No, Josh, it was incredibly sweet. I just may mold you into something worthwhile yet."

"Looking forward to it," I retort. We finally reach her office, and I check behind to make sure Donna is nowhere in sight.

"Carol," CJ says, "no one gets in this room. I don't care if the Canadians are laying siege to the White House. Am I understood?"

"I'll defend the borders with my last breath," Carol deadpans.

"Good girl." CJ says. We slip into the room and close the door quietly behind us.

Inside of CJ's office is the representative from Vera Wang, sitting patiently on the couch. On the floor beside her is a rolling clothes rack sporting several gowns hidden in garment bags.

CJ nods to the young woman who stands and begins unzipping the garment bags. There are seven of them in all, and the woman describes them to me in painful detail.

Royal Blue. No. Cream. I don't think so. Red. Tempting. Teal. Not a snowball's chance in a fiery hell. Pink. It would make her look like a little girl. Black. Been there, done that.

Then I see it. The Dress.

It's soft light, again. I have a clear image of Donna, laughing and smiling while wearing this dress. She's holding a glass of champagne in her hand and I take it from her and set it down when I ask her to dance. And she's glowing.

It's the color of a deep red wine. Burgundy...maroon...whatever you want to call it. I ask the woman about it and she tells me the shade is called Blackberry. It's simple, and elegant. It's strapless with a matching neck scarf and it's perfect for her. I ask the woman to hold it out and when she does, I know I won't even look at the other dresses again.

"That's the one," I say.

"Good choice, Joshua." I can feel CJ mentally patting me on the head.

"That's the one," I say again, still struck by the clear image of Donna in this dress.

"He'll take it," CJ tells the woman.

"Will alterations be needed?" the woman asks.

"No," I inform her. "It's perfect."

"Josh it may need to be altered--"

"It's perfect," I say, again. "It will fit her like it was made for her. I know her body."

"Okay, that was a little more information than I needed to hear." CJ chuckles uncomfortably. "Shoes?" she asks the rep.

"We can take care of it. What size is the lady?"

CJ shrugs, and attempts to guess

"Eight and a half," I tell her and CJ's eyes widen.

"Will that be all?" the representative inquires. When we answer to the affirmative, she responds, "I'll have it wrapped up."

"Thank you," I say.

"Oh," the fashion representative says, "diamonds would look perfect with this dress."

"Jewelry? I didn't think about jewelry."

"It's taken care of, Josh. I called Harry Winston and they're flying a few select pieces in. We're only borrowing them though, so they'll have to be returned."

"At midnight?" I can't resist asking. She laughs, having not made the Cinderella connection before. "You've thought of everything, CJ. Whatever they're paying you, it's not enough."

"You know what I get paid and…I know," she rolls her eyes. "Playing the fairy godmother is not in my job description. I'll keep the dress in here until you're ready to give it to her."

"Thanks again," I say. "Someday I'll think of an appropriate way to repay you. Oh, speaking of repayment, how much did that Vera Wang masterpiece set me back?"

"About eight grand, Josh. Think your rainy day fund can handle that?"

"Sure," I reply. "As long as Donna realizes that her engagement ring is coming out of a bubble gum machine."

"Engagement ring--?"

"Forget it, CJ. We're not there," I say, "yet."

"By the way, Josh, I'm really impressed that you know her shoe size. It's a good sign."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," she answers. "Attention to detail is always a good sign, Josh."

I thank CJ again, before stepping out of her office and heading back to mine.

For perhaps the first time since this Administration began, I am actually looking forward to an official function. I can't wait to see the look on Donna's face when I show her the dress. It's almost enough to make me concede this ruse and present it to her now.

Donna loves pretty things. She's never admitted as much to me, but I know that she has a certain fondness for dressing up. Even when it's only a semi-formal function and she's wearing a dress she's worn countless times before. She has always gone to great pains to look first-class, as though her appearance is a reflection upon me.

But that was before we became personal. Now, I know, the pressure she places upon herself will be tenfold. One of the things that most amazes me about Donna is that she feels by making me look good, she looks good by extension. My mother was that way with my father, which should have clued me in to Donna's feelings long before I actually figured them out. I'm not always the most observant of men, which I can now admit.

We'd worked side by side for three years before we took a chance and changed everything. I can easily recall the day we met and the barrage of questions to which I subjected her. My questions got a little personal, I remember, but I couldn't help it. I was seized with the desire, even then, to know everything about her. To understand what made her unique personality tick. I don't know if I loved her then -- it's possible -- but I do know that I was unable to resist her.

That didn't stop me from trying, though. I hired her because I was intrigued, but then I proceeded to spend three years trying to resist her. Clearly, a battle I was destined to lose. Strangely though, I just don't feel like a loser. Just one of those funny things about love, I guess.

TBC

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