by B. B. Hamel
Maybe that’s what he wanted. Distract from the negativity, sneak through reform.
But that can’t be right. Adam has to know that would never really work, and there’s too much at stake not to do it right.
Iris keeps talking about how we’re working in a graveyard, and I can’t act like she’s wrong. It really is a graveyard, and I think I’d probably quit if it weren’t for my attachment to the President.
Although he hasn’t spoken to me or looked in my direction or acted like we’ve ever known each other past a professional setting.
We get some work done, but not a whole lot. I consider working late, but I decide to head home. Nobody’s around and I heard the President isn’t even in the White House at all. Apparently he’s traveling, though nobody knows where.
As I’m heading outside toward the metro, a woman detaches herself from a nearby building and walks close to me. I frown at her, trying to place her face.
“Maggie?” she asks me.
I clench my jaw. “I’m not interested,” I say.
Linda Torres gives me a wry little smile. “You don’t even know what I’m here to say.”
“I know you want to keep asking me questions and I’m not interested.”
She sighs. She looks tired, stressed. Her hair’s pulled back in a tight bun and there are bags under her eyes.
But she doesn’t look like the evil reporter I half expected her to be.
“Please, sit down with me,” she says. “Just one cup of coffee. We can talk off the record.”
I hesitate. “I’m not interested.”
“Please. I might be able to tell you a little about what’s going on.”
I hesitate, slowing my walk.
It’s tempting. I haven’t heard from Adam in nearly a week. I’m desperate for news, for some sign of what’s happening around me.
I’m more than a little freaked, if I’m honest. I don’t know if my job’s safe, I don’t know if Adam’s safe. I don’t know if he’s giving up on healthcare and moving on from me completely.
Everything we’ve said. Everything we’ve done. And total silence from him.
I sigh. “One coffee. Off the record.”
She nods. “Okay, let’s go.”
I follow her to this little hipster place around the corner. She orders a decaf and I ask for an Americano. We get our drinks and sit in a corner.
Linda glances around, wincing a little bit. “I remember when this place was a bookstore.”
I frown. “I’m sure it’s changed a lot here.”
“It sure has,” she says softly before looking back at me. “How are you, Maggie?”
I shrug. “Fine. Look, I’m only here to hear what you have to say about these firings, okay? I’m not interested in small talk.”
“Okay,” she says. “I get that. But I’m serious, I really want to know if you’re okay?”
I narrow my eyes. She actually seems sincere. “I’m fine,” I say. “Honestly. Why are you concerned?”
She shrugs and looks away. “I know about you and the President.”
I stare at her. Anger rises through me, and I stand up.
“Please,” she says quickly, reaching out. “Don’t leave. Just hear me out.”
I stare at her. “There is nothing going on,” I say.
“Okay,” she answers. “Still hear me out.”
I hesitate before slowly sitting down.
“I have a source close to the President.” She sighs. “Well, I had a source. He was in his security detail, but he was transferred, so I guess that’s over.”
My mind starts whirling. He was right, he was totally right.
I stare at her, keeping silent. I don’t want to speak and risk getting myself in trouble. Or, worse, getting Adam in trouble.
She bites her lip. “He was worried about you. I’m worried about you. I mean, a relationship with the President is a big deal. Women have been hurts by Presidents in the past, seriously hurt, and I don’t want to see it happen to you.”
I laugh sharply. “Don’t pretend this is about me, Linda.”
She looks taken aback but sighs, like I genuinely hurt her. “I see why you’d think that. You don’t know me. But I’m a survivor too, you know. I’ve spent most of my journalistic career researching and taking down predatory men, and I’m afraid you’re about to be just one more victim I can’t save.”
I stare at her, not sure what to say. I suddenly start to understand where she’s coming from, at least a little bit.
She’s a crusader. She believes in what she’s doing.
Saving women is a worthy cause. Taking care of victims, punishing their attackers, all of that is worthwhile. A person like Linda is necessary if big, powerful men are going to be held accountable.
But that isn’t what’s happening here. And I can’t explain that without admitting that I’m seeing the President.
And I definitely can’t do that. At the end of the day, she’s a reporter.
“I want to help you,” she says.
“I don’t need help,” I quickly cut in.
“Are you sure? My source, he said the President was seeing you often, and—”
“I don’t need help,” I repeat seriously. “Look, I understand what you’re trying to do. I really do, and I get that it’s important. But that isn’t me.”
“They never think it’s them,” she says softly. “Not at first, anyway.”
“Linda.” I stare at her. “It’s not me.”
She smiles sadly. “Has he spoken to you lately?”
I glare at her, but I don’t respond.
“I didn’t think so. This shakeup is happening because of me.”
“How?” I ask sharply.
“I told him that I’m writing a story about the two of you. I told him that I’m going to release it soon. I guess this is his response.”
I stare at her. Anger rolls through me again, anger and disbelief.
I don’t understand why this woman would attack Adam. I mean, I can see why she might believe I’m in trouble, but she’s so far from the truth. She won’t even listen when I tell her that I don’t need her help.
“I have proof of the two of you,” she says, reaching into her bag. She takes out a stack of pictures.
I stare at them. It’s Adam, standing outside of my apartment. I open the door, he comes inside, I shut it behind him.
I lean back in my chair, devastated.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I really am.”
“You’re going to publish those?”
“I’m thinking about it,” she says. “I don’t want to include these pictures. I don’t want to include your name, even. That is, if you’ll agree to work with me.”
I laugh angrily. “So you’re blackmailing me now?”
“No,” she says. “I’m trying to help you.”
“You’re not,” I say. “If you wanted to help me, you wouldn’t be here, trying to force me to talk. You wouldn’t use these pictures against me.” I lean over the table. “This isn’t about me. This is about you.”
She stares at me. “Maggie, you don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand,” I snap back. “I’m not in trouble. I don’t need your help. This witch hunt you’re on has to stop. Leave Adam alone.”
Her expression softens into pity and I want to rip her teeth out.
“Adam?” she says softly.
I lean toward her. “Leave the President alone.”
“You know I can’t do that. Honestly, you have to know.”
I shake my head and stand. My untouched coffee rattles. “If you had any decency, you wouldn’t print those pictures. You wouldn’t print anything about any of this.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she says, and I believe she means it. “This isn’t how I wanted any of this to go down.”
I stare for a second longer before shaking my head and walking away.
I hurry back to my apartment. The whole time, I picture
someone following me, taking my picture. I’m practically freaking out by the time I get inside. I lock my door and sit down on the couch before bursting into tears.
I cry like a baby. I feel like a baby. I hate that this is happening. I hate myself for being so pathetic.
But what Linda said…
He’s abandoning me.
The thought hits me so hard I can barely breathe.
He knows about Linda’s article. He knows she plans on publishing.
And he didn’t tell me.
Instead, he started firing his whole staff, looking for the leak. He’s panicking, or he’s angry, but either way he’s not talking to me. I’m cast aside.
I’m honestly surprised he didn’t fire me, too.
I feel broken. I feel like a silly little girl.
I thought we had something real. Maybe we couldn’t be public yet, maybe not until after he’s out of office. But I thought what we had was real enough to last until then, and much longer.
I still feel that way about him. That’s the part I hate the most.
I still love him.
The thought drives me crazy. I’m so sad and pathetic.
I’m in love with the President, and I was stupid enough to think he’d love me back.
Maybe Linda’s right.
Maybe I am just another victim.
I wish he’d call. I wish he’d talk to me.
Instead, all I get is silence, and I can feel myself breaking apart.
18
Adam
More than half my staff gone. The whole world fucking talking about it.
And I still don’t feel good. I don’t feel safe.
I don’t feel anything.
I stare out the window of my bedroom, looking out at the city. I shut my eyes, try to banish all thoughts from my mind, but I can’t help it.
I keep thinking about her.
Maggie. Her voice, her lips, her tongue, her skin. Everything about her.
Her vision for the future, her work ethic. Her brilliant mind.
I’m supposed to be staying away from her. When the Linda story drops, things are going to be bad for both of us. I can protect her, but only if I have the discipline to stay away from her from now on.
I hate it. I despise it.
I miss her like hell.
Fixing my tie, I head out into the main hallway. Ramirez falls in behind me, the only man left from my original security detail.
Every day, I wonder when Linda is going to publish that story. Every day I expect it, but nothing happens.
Charles meets me at the foot of the stairs. “Good morning, sir,” he says.
“Good morning,” I say.
He follows along as we head to the Oval Office. He gives me a rundown of meetings, of people I’ll be seeing, decisions that need to be made.
I’m the leader of the free world, or at least that’s what people say. Really, I’m a prisoner.
I can’t live the life I want to live. I’m trapped in this job.
The worst part is, I know she’s so close. I could walk to her office right now, talk to her, touch her, smell her hair, hear her laugh. I could be there in just a few minutes.
But it’s like we’re a world apart. People move around the halls, smile at me, step away quietly. They act like I’m about to rip them into pieces.
I guess I’m not surprised. My own staff is afraid of me now that I’ve torn everything apart.
“Adam?” Charles asks.
I frown at him. “Sorry, did I miss something?”
He grunts, shaking his head. “You’re distracted.”
“I always am.”
We step into the Oval Office. It’s mercifully empty for once.
I walk over to my desk, the symbol of my office. I don’t want to get anywhere near it.
“You’re thinking about her.”
I look back at him, surprised. “What?”
“You’re thinking about Maggie. I’ve noticed a change in you.”
I frown slightly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ever since this all happened, you’ve been thinking about her. But you’ve been different. Like you’ve lost the energy for the job.”
I shake my head. “I still have plenty of energy, Charles.”
“No, sir, you don’t.” He steps toward me. “Listen, Adam. As a friend. You should go talk to that journalist.”
I stare at him, clearly surprised. “What?”
“Go talk to her. Explain to her what you’ve been doing with Maggie. She’ll see… I know she’ll see.”
“See what?”
He smiles at me. A rare thing from Charles. “That you’re in love with the girl.”
I blink, not sure what to say.
Charles watches me carefully, his smile getting bigger.
“I don’t know—” I start saying, but he cuts me off.
“Come on, Adam. Enough bullshit. I thought that girl was going to be bad for you, bad for the country. I thought she was going to confuse you, distract you, keep you from doing good, but…” He shakes his head. “She energized you. Made you stronger. Smarter. Without her…”
“But love—”
He laughs again. “Come on. Are you still in denial?”
I stare at him and slowly shake my head. “No. I’m not.”
“Good. Go after her.”
He’s right.
I know he’s right.
I’ve been thinking it for a while now.
No, I’ve been feeling it.
Maybe I haven’t admitted it to myself. I haven’t let myself see the truth, see what was right in front of me.
It’s so obvious. I bet everyone knows but me.
I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Maggie.
I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Not since my wife and son died. I haven’t been able to let myself. And maybe I didn’t realize what was happening.
But this is it. This is real.
I fell in love with Maggie, and now I can’t stop it.
As if I’d want to.
“Clear my schedule,” I tell him. “And get that journalist on the line. I want to talk to her.”
“Very good, sir,” he says, grinning.
“Face to face. Have her come in if you can.”
“I will, sir.”
“And Charles—”
“Don’t thank me until you have the girl.”
I laugh, shake my head, and head into the Oval Office, my heart feeling lighter than I’ve felt in a long, long time.
Linda Torres looks at me from overtop her glasses, a slight frown on her face.
“What are you saying, Mr. President?” she asks.
“I’d like to talk to you about Maggie,” I say again.
“Are you admitting that there’s a relationship between the two of you?”
I sigh. “Listen, Linda. Can we speak off the record?”
She hesitates, but nods. She reaches into her bag and turns off a recorder she had in there.
I’m not surprised. I assumed she was recording everything. I mean, she wouldn’t be a great journalist if she weren’t.
She raises an eyebrow expectantly.
I sit back in my chair. I know this is a huge risk. Whatever I say now will affect the future of my presidency.
More than that. It’ll affect the future of my life.
Everything I am, everything I love, hinges on this moment. If I do it wrong, if Linda doesn’t react the way I think she will, it can all go to hell. Everything I’ve ever wanted, completely gone.
“I’m in love with her,” I say.
She blinks, surprised. “Excuse me?”
“Maggie. I’m in love with her.” I sigh and smile. “God, that feels good to say. You’re the first person I’ve actually said that to, did you know that?”
She stares at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind.
Hell, she’s not wrong. She’s a journalist investigating me for having an inappropriate relationship wit
h a much younger staffer. This could completely destroy me.
And I’m admitting to it. More than that, I’m admitting that I’m in love with her.
I bet this has never happened in the history of the country.
She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I don’t know what to think about that, sir,” she says finally.
I nod a little. I suddenly feel so fucking tired.
“I don’t either, honestly,” I admit. “I know we can’t really have a future. Not really, not right now at least. If this got out, it would ruin both of us. She’d get it worse than me. I mean, look at Monica Lewinsky.”
Linda winces. “Yes, well.”
“Bill Clinton is a rich and powerful politician still. He makes shitloads running around the world, giving speeches. But Monica Lewinsky is just remembered for all those sordid details. Her life was ruined.”
Linda looks away. “That’s not what I want.”
“I know it isn’t,” I say softly. “I honestly believe you have Maggie’s best interests at heart. I’ve looked into you, and you’ve done some really good work.”
She looks back up at me. “I’ve heard this sort of thing before, you know. From men just like you.”
“Really?” I’m genuinely surprised. “They’ve told you that they’re in love?”
She hesitates. “No. Not that. Not exactly that.”
“I am in love,” I say again. The words feel so good on my tongue that I laugh a little bit. “I really do love her, Linda. It’s stupid and insane, but I do.”
She’s silent for a moment. “How does she feel?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I think she feels the same, but we haven’t talked about it. We haven’t really been able to.” I clench my jaw for a second, looking away. “I thought… I thought I could forget about her. I thought I could move on.”
“But here you are,” she says.
“Here I am. I’m exhausted, stupid, and in love. And I’m at your mercy now.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I know.” I lean forward on my desk, rubbing at my eyes. “It’s a messed up situation. You don’t know me, you don’t know what my intentions are. But I hope this… I hope you’re willing to see this for what it is.”