Black President Season 2 Collection

by Brenda Hampton

  “So, in other words, you’re not going back to rehab, right?”

  “When you go, I’ll go. You have a lot of problems too. Sweeping your messy shit underneath the rug won’t make it go away.”

  “The only problem I have right now is you.”

  She laughed and sipped from the glass again. I was so frustrated with her that I rushed up to her and snatched the glass from her hand. I threw it against the wall, causing the glass to shatter and alcohol to spill on the wall.

  “Hell yes I have problems, Mama! But this ain’t about me. It’s about you fucking up! Do you even realize what you’re doing to yourself? It’s beyond making a fool of yourself, and I thought we were over this. After all that happened in the past, I thought you would never, ever want to drink again.”

  “You’re the one who caused me problems. That’s why I started drinking to begin with, so don’t you dare talk about I’m the one fucking up.”

  My past flashed before me, but it was her intentions to throw me off and make me feel responsible for her actions. Not this time. She was on her own. I told her just that.

  “When you hit rock bottom, don’t you come to me, begging me to help you. I’m done with you, with all of it. I’m not going to save you from yourself again, and the next time you invite your young puppet over here again, tell him to wash his damn feet. It stinks in here, and a man with funky ass feet speaks volumes.”

  I pivoted to walk away.

  “And a boy who kills his own father isn’t shit either. That’s just a little something to think about while our relationship is on hiatus.”

  Her comment caused me to stop in my tracks. I didn’t bother to turn around—just took a deep breath, then released it. My mind traveled back to that horrific day, but as I had done for many years, I shook it off and kept moving.

  First Lady,

  Raynetta Jefferson

  Unfortunately, love didn’t live in my heart anymore. How I knew this was true, I was no longer excited when I saw Stephen. No matter how handsome he was, I wasn’t moved. I hated to be in his presence, and every time I saw him speaking to people, I cringed. He seemed so fake to me. He definitely wasn’t the man I had married many years ago. I didn’t sweat it anymore, nor did I worry about Mr. McNeil being my grandfather. Emme provided me with just enough information I needed to put this book together. When she put me in touch with a literary agent, it didn’t take long for publishers to bite. So far, five publishers were interested in my tell-all story and the price to purchase it was steep. My agent, Beth Ann, said she would contact me later to let me know who the first bidder was. In her opinion, I could probably get more than what I had asked for. Everything was done behind the scenes, and even the publishers knew this had to be done in secrecy. The only thing I’d provided, thus far, was minimal juicy details about Stephen’s past and present, about some of Mr. McNeil’s dealings, and about his son, my biological father, being a rapist. I even intended to include damaging information about Teresa. For the right price, people would know she was capable of murder. For the right price, I planned to tell it all. Stephen should’ve thought long and hard about what he’d done to me. Mr. McNeil should’ve done so too.

  As Stephen was at the U.N., I watched him deliver his speech while I was in the hotel suite getting some writing done. His message to world leaders was inspiring, and even though another war had been the topic for many months, Stephen and his administration had taken a diplomatic approach that prevented further wars from happening. The last thing this country needed was to go to war with another country. We had our own problems right here. The racial war that had been brewing required Stephen’s attention, more than anything. People were getting killed on the streets, just because. It had been quiet for a few days, but no one could predict when another unfortunate incident would happen.

  I couldn’t concentrate on writing, so I tuned in to Stephen’s speech again. The television always made him appear more handsome than what he was and his confidence was such a turn on. I understood why so many women loved my husband, but they didn’t know him like I did. He had turned into a monster, and one of these days, Michelle Peoples would get a taste of who he was. I didn’t wish harm on anyone, but as far as she was concerned, I wanted her to get what she deserved. I truly believed she had fallen in love with him and probably couldn’t stop herself from wanting to be with him. I knew she had come to the White House that night, and while I didn’t know the specifics of what had happened, I could only imagine. As I thought about what could’ve occurred, I started to write again, embellishing a few things here and there.

  Tears poured from my eyes as I peeked through the east side doors to the Oval Office and witnessed another woman with her legs wrapped around my husband’s waist. No woman should ever feel the gut-wrenching pain I’d felt in that moment, and even though I wanted to run away that night and cry myself to sleep, I couldn’t. I was numb from head to toe and couldn’t move. The way they feverishly kissed, the way he touched her and caressed her entire body made me more jealous than I had ever been. This was the first time I had witnessed Stephen in action, and even though he’d had multiples affairs before, this one hurt more. This woman was in love with my husband, and the passion in his eyes, as he gazed into hers, proved to me that he loved her too. Maybe even more than he claimed to love me. I wasn’t sure, but I continued to watch. I watched for hours, and after each loud grunt, I sunk to a new low. I couldn’t fulfill my duties as the first lady, and I surely didn’t feel like one. I finally realized our marriage meant nothing to the president and that was a hard pill for me to swallow, especially since I had given my marriage my all. In no way was I perfect, but I would give Stephen the world. I had been his rock, and to see him, time and time again, dishonor his vows was more disappointing than anyone would ever know. We argued on a regular basis, and if I got too loud or threatened to leave him, he would make me pay. The physical and mental abuse went on for years, and I found myself sleeping alone for many nights. Sometimes, my eyes would be black and blue. I covered my bruises with makeup, and when I couldn’t hide my bruises, I had to cancel scheduled events. I wanted to tell someone, but so many people in the White House loved the president. He could do no wrong in their eyes, so I had to keep my secret, in hopes that he would one day snap out of it and be the man I knew I deserved.

  As the world leaders applauded Stephen’s speech, I looked at the TV and smiled. A small part of me didn’t want to do this to him, but for sixty or maybe even seventy million dollars, what woman in my situation wouldn’t do it? Maybe some wouldn’t, but this was the decision I’d made. I flipped the page to my notebook and started to write again.

  Maybe I had been too hard on my husband. Or maybe I should’ve gotten him the help he needed, instead of encouraging him to run for president. A wise first lady once said that the presidency doesn’t change who you are, it only reveals who you are. It will be revealed that Stephen is a murderer, a manipulator and he was a very troubled child. A child who was abused by both of his parents, more so his father whom Stephen tried to wash from his memory. He was often afraid to sleep because sleeping brought about nightmares. Nightmares that left him waking up in cold sweats and regretting that he had killed his father one day. Stephen always said he didn’t want to do it, but his mother was evil. She’d made him do it, and she stood by Stephen’s side when he pulled the trigger. No matter how anyone looked at it, it was murder. Stephen never told me where his father’s body was; he also said he doesn’t remember. I kept his secret because I didn’t want anyone to know. In order for my husband, president of the United States, to heal himself, he must deal with it and the world must know the truth.

  I released a deep sigh then closed the notebook. I didn’t feel like writing anymore, and since Stephen told me to be ready by six o’clock, I decided to shower, do my hair and get totally beautified for the night.

  A few hours later, I was dolled up and ready to go. My hair had been brushed to one shoulder and was full of loos
e curls. The navy strapless dress I wore had sequins around the breasts area, and diamonds added glam to my fit. With teardrop earrings on, and an expensive diamond-filled bracelet, I felt like royalty. I reached for my purse, sprayed on a dash of sweet perfume, and then I went to Stephen’s room to see if he was ready to go. With Secret Service waiting outside the door to his suite, Stephen opened it with his shirt off, slacks unbuttoned and a toothbrush in his mouth.

  “Come inside,” he mumbled. “I’m running a little late.”

  I entered his suite, examining everything I saw. It was rather messy. Papers were on the table, his clothes were on the sofa, several pairs of shoes were here and there and a box of KFC was on the table too.

  I looked at him as he stood near the bathroom’s doorway, still brushing his teeth. “You’re already living like a bachelor,” I teased. “And work that toothbrush good. I surely don’t want to smell her goodies all on your breath.”

  He cut his eyes at me and closed the door to the bathroom. I walked around, being nosy. His cell phone vibrated, and even though I didn’t care who was calling him, I still looked at the screen to see who it was. Andrew’s name flashed on the screen. I didn’t bother to answer.

  Minutes later, Stephen came from the bathroom while buttoning his white shirt. He also had on navy slacks. I didn’t intend to coordinate with him.

  “I would’ve been ready, but I had to take some important calls.” His eyes scanned me from head to toe. “You look nice. I know you’re not excited about doing this, but thanks anyway.”

  “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me, just so you know.”

  While trying to put his cufflinks on, he stepped forward and stood in front of me.

  “It really doesn’t matter who you’re doing this for, but going forward, let’s try to talk to each other with respect. We both know where things stand, so there’s no need to keep on being bitter about this. What’s done is done. At least we can both say we tried.” He extended his arm to me. “Put on my cufflinks for me. I can’t do it.”

  I hesitated to assist him, but I did it anyway. After I was done, he asked me to attach his bowtie to his shirt.

  “This is the last thing I’m going to do. Get your girlfriend to do it.”

  He winked at me and smiled. “I would, but I’m sure she’s somewhere busy, getting ready for tonight too.”

  I hated that my attitude didn’t seem to annoy him. And with all the money I’d soon be getting, I guess I needed to change my attitude too. I intended to, after this last little jab.

  “So, if she’s going to be here, why do you need me to go with you? I guess she’s not as pretty as I am, and the only time you really want to be seen with her is in private.”

  I nearly choked him as I put on his bowtie. He licked out his tongue and gagged.

  “Shit,” he said. “Does it take all that to put on a bowtie?”

  “Your neck shouldn’t be so fat. Don’t blame me.”

  “Whatever. My neck isn’t fat. You’re just trying to hurt me, that’s all.”

  “Maybe so; after all, I’m dying to hurt you.”

  Stephen ignored my comment. He walked off, and after putting on his jewelry, jacket and shoes, we left the suite together with Secret Service leading the way. The Presidential Motorcade was waiting for us, but before we could get to it, we were swarmed with crowds of people who had been waiting to take pictures and get a glimpse of us. We were rushed to the motorcade by Secret Service, and once we were inside we waved at people.

  “How long are we going to be here tonight?” I asked.

  “I hope not long because I’m kind of tired. Unfortunately, sometimes, these events can go on forever.”

  “If it lingers on after eleven, I’m going to give you a signal. I’m kind of tired, too, and I haven’t been resting well lately.”

  “I guess I don’t have to ask why. Did you ever get a chance to chat with Mr. McNeil?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it. I’m still not sure about a whole lot of things. Changing the subject, have you spoken to your mother lately?”

  “I spoke to her, but that’s something I don’t want to discuss. I’m going to try and enjoy myself tonight. I hope you do too.”

  I wasn’t so sure if I would, but after we arrived at the fundraising event and I started conversing with so many interesting people, I did enjoy myself. There were numerous speakers, including Stephen, and several others who entertained the crowd. The dinner plates cost five thousand dollars; I was sure the Democrats had raised millions tonight. Speaking of dinner, it was delicious. They served lobster tails, steamed vegetables, risotto and stuffed mushrooms. I also ate a salad and the chocolate rum cake had me full as ever. I wanted to crawl in my bed and sleep the night away. But people kept talking and the band kept playing. Stephen asked me to dance, and as we paraded around on the dance floor like a happy couple, many people watched. Several other people were on the dancefloor too, and with a variety of alcoholic beverages being served, many people were tipsy.

  “Didn’t I say you would enjoy yourself tonight?” Stephen asked with one arm secured around my waist and his other hand clenched with mine. I tried to keep a little space between us, but he was real close.

  “You did and I’m glad I came. It helped me relieve some of the stress I’ve been under.”

  He didn’t respond. He looked into my eyes, and then spun me around, before holding my waist again.

  “For someone who says she’s been under a lot of stress, I must say that you did your thing tonight. You look very nice.”

  Any other time I would’ve appreciated his compliment. I pretended as if I did. “Thanks for the compliment, but where is this going, Stephen? Are you horny or something? Is your girlfriend not treating you right or are you having some regrets?”

  He spun me around again, before answering. “No regrets. None at all.”

  For the next few minutes, we danced without saying anything to each other. I saw his head turn in another direction, and as I shifted my head to the left, Michelle was dancing several feet away with a white man. I figured she would be in attendance tonight, especially since the media basically followed Stephen nearly everywhere he went. She couldn’t keep her eyes focused on her dance partner. I saw her taking glances at Stephen; I also saw him looking in her direction too. He even nudged his head in one direction, and a few minutes later, she exited the floor. Shortly thereafter, he cleared his throat and backed away from me.

  “I need to go to the men’s room. I shouldn’t be long, but after I say goodnight to a few people we can go.”

  I nodded and watched Stephen make his way through the crowd. He stopped a few times to chat with several people, but when his eyes searched the room and he nudged his head again, I saw Michelle follow his lead.

  At first, I wasn’t going to follow them. I wasn’t really mad about it, but then I changed my mind and decided to go see what else I could find out. I wanted to include photos in my tell-all book too, and it was my chance to get a clear photo of the two of them together. I saw Stephen go up the arched staircase; Michelle went up them too. I waited before I went up the stairs, and when I did, I went up on the opposite side, just in case someone else was paying attention. From a distance, I saw Stephen and Michelle standing face-to-face while talking. He said something and she laughed. She then straightened his bowtie and said something to him that made him blush. Minutes later, she reached for his hand and he followed her. She led him into one of the empty ballrooms, but as I hurried down the hallway to follow them, Senator Dressel jumped right in front of me, halting my steps.

  “I’m so happy to see you tonight, Raynetta. I had planned to call you, and I would love for you to join me on the campaign trail next month. You mentioned your support before, and I think my constituents would be delighted to see you. Will you join me at a rally next month?”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule and let you know. Can I give you a call sometime next week?”

/>   “Sure you can. I look forward to hearing from you. I hope that. . .”

  She kept rambling on. I looked over her shoulder to see if Stephen and Michelle had left the room. They hadn’t.

  “Uh, Senator Dressel, do you mind if I cut this short? I really need to go to the restroom.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping aside. “Don’t forget to call me.”

  I walked off and made my way down the hall. As I stood outside of the room where Stephen and Michelle were, I sucked in a deep breath. I didn’t know what to expect—what would I do if I saw them having sex? I told myself nothing, but then again, I was still his wife. I reached for the knob, cracking the door just a little. Immediately, I saw them in an embrace. There was no breathing room between them, and he was saying something to her that made her nod. He kissed her forehead, then pecked her lips. She softly rubbed the back of his head and pursued a lengthier kiss. Right then, I lifted my phone and snapped a picture. I couldn’t stand to watch anymore. My anger had taken over; I decided to leave without him. I stopped by the restroom to wash my hands and put on some more lipstick. Even chatted with a woman inside for a few minutes. As I exited the restroom, I saw Michelle and Stephen at the top of the staircase. They were getting ready to boldly go down together, so instead of going down on the side they were on, I went to the opposite side to walk down. Stephen had one hand touching the small of her back; his other hand was in his pocket while he searched the lower level. I figured he was searching for me. It didn’t take long for him to see me on the other side of the double staircase, and the evil stare I gave him let him know exactly what I was thinking. He nudged his head toward the exit door, but I turned my head in another direction. Seconds later, I heard several popping sounds that sounded like firecrackers. It wasn’t until I saw people scattering like roaches, when I realized the sounds were gunfire. Things appeared to move in slow motion. I saw numerous Secret Service agents rushing up the stairs, but Stephen was running in my direction. I made my way toward him too, and as I jetted up the stairs, I twisted my damn ankle and fell.