Persuasive Lips by Sherry Silver

inside. Af t er three s q ueezes and some creative tucking of the taffeta, she was good to go. When Eleanor replaced the stapler, a metallic glint in the b ack caught h e r attention. She op ened the d rawer all the way and pulled out a pearl-handled pistol. What the…
    Eleanor h e ard giggling. Her eyes darted around the office as she shut the drawer, shoved the gun und e r her waistband and covered it with the sash. She jumped up, wrapped her arms ar o und her midsection and tiptoed to the open door to pe e k into the corridor.
    Eleanor w a tched Mrs. Stoneburner meandering toward the kitch e n. Claude Fuji, the President’s valet, was finishing u p a good b ubbly laugh. “Hello Mi s sus First Lady. You are so beautiful in jade.” She exhaled and stepped into the hall.
    He reached out to s hake hands with Mr s . Roosevelt, as was his nature, but she awkwardly declined. “Thank you, Claude.”
    His face s a ddened at the slight. “A nything I do wrong to you?” “No, Claude, no…oh…come on to my study. Follow me.”
    Mrs. Roosevelt’s evening gown s wished as they hurried to her private room.
    “ Close the door, Claude.”
    He oblige d .
    Eleanor gingerly peeled back the delicate folds of taffeta and y a nked the gun out. “Look what I found in his secretary’s desk!”
    “ Missus First Lady, please do not go waving that thing at Claude.” The valet snatched the firearm from her.
    Eleanor m oved closer, hovering over him. Her stomach knotted as she whispered, “Is it load e d?”
    “ Please step back,” he said with a sternness she’d never before witnessed. She complied.
    He proceeded to her small desk. An envelope flew to the floor as he shoved a stack of stationery away to clear a space. He emptied the chambers i n to his hand and then spread the contents o n her desk. Yank i n g t he chain on her desk lamp, Fuji picked up one nine-millimeter brass bullet and held it under the light. “Bl a nks.”
    “ Blanks? How can you be sur e ?”
    “ The ends of the casings are crimped down and sealed. Live ammun i tion is rounded and smooth. These are definitely blanks. Look.”
    Mrs. Roosevelt leaned down and examined the proje c tile as he twirled it slowly.
    Just what are you up to, Vera?
    Claude Fuji replaced the projectiles. “Put back where you got from. We wa t ch her.” “You mustn't tell the President about Vera’s gun. I don’t want to upset him unnecessa r ily.”
    “ What gun? No gun.”
    * * * * *
    President Roosevelt wearily stared at the excess ink dripping ba c k into the well. He began dott i ng the I s on his speech just as his secretary strolled in.
    “ Here you go, sir, this is the last o n e. The courier is waiting.”
    He signed six pages. Vera slipped them into an envelope and sealed it as she left the Oval Office. She gave it to the tir e d-looking young courier. He dashed off.
    The President placed the speech in his lap then gripped the gritty wheels of his armless w o oden chair. He propelled himself o u t to Vera’s office a n d deposited his soon- to-be historical prose o n her desk. “Sorry I k e pt you so late. Just leave this for one of the girls in the typing po o l in the m o rning.”
    “ Nights like these I appreciate li v ing with m y mother-in-law. She’s wonderful with the childr e n.”
    “ Come on up and have a mart in i with me before you go. The missus is o ut at a charity ho o p dee doo and cocktails for one are no fun… I’ll put t w o olives i n yours.” He winked.
    Stretching catlike, she placed her elbows on the desk and gazed into his ey e s. “All right, F.D. You know I’m a sucker for you r … olives .” Vera tend e rly kissed him on his stubbled c h eek.
    She arched her back, thrusting her chest to attention as she stood. Vera protected her typewriter with a vinyl cover and then strolled o ver to the mahogany rack in the corner. She grabbed her black wool hat and coat, releasing her s m oky French perfumed scent while shaking it out, then r