“I just wanted to help.” Stephen opened the door and stepped aside. “I haven’t been of much help lately.”
Sherise placed her hand on Stephen’s arm. “You’re sweet, Stephen. You never give yourself enough credit. But this is a professional issue between me and the governor. I can handle it myself.”
Sherise was near the bottom step of the deck when Jerry turned to see her. She was looking right at him, needing to gauge his every reaction to give herself an advantage. He threw the ball in his hand away, sending the dogs off and running, and turned to her. He was clearly not expecting her and didn’t seem all too happy. He knew what he was in for.
“Sherise,” he said, as soon as she approached, “it’s the day after Thanksgiving. Can we at least . . .”
“This can’t wait and you know it,” she said.
“I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” Jerry said, shaking his head in a regretful gesture. “Blair has the job and . . .”
“Do you want me to come into work Monday?” she asked.
His eyes widened. “Sherise, you can’t quit. I need you.”
“Then you need to give me an answer. A real answer.”
Jerry was good at emotionally connecting with people. He always had been, but Sherise had taught him to be even better. She could tell that he was using the skills she’d taught him when he looked into her eyes. His entire expression changed. The demeanor of his body language became very sympathetic and genuine.
“Sherise, I value you very much.” His tone was soft and sincere. “I’ll do anything to keep you as my deputy press secretary. Or maybe another position. What do you want? I can pay you the very highest salary allowed.”
“I want what I’ve earned,” she demanded. “To be press secretary for the president of the United States.”
His demeanor deflated a bit as his tone turned more regretful. “You know how this game is played, Sherise. You can’t get to the White House without owing people. You’ve done a great job for me, but there are people who have spent millions, given me priceless endorsements and . . .”
“Maurice Blair isn’t one of those people,” Sherise said. “He’s a PR flack on his way down. His best days are behind him and he’s not a golden donor.”
“But he brought several of them to me,” Jerry said. “You know that. This race was hard as hell, Sherise. Once President Matthews selected a female vice presidential candidate to replace Jonah Nolan, we faced an uphill battle.”
“I get favors,” Sherise said. “But you don’t cow to the first PR flack who tells you you owe him. You put him in charge, Jerry. That’s a horrible precedent to set. You’re supposed to be in charge, Jerry!”
“I know I’m in charge,” he snapped at her. “Do you know I’m in charge?”
She paused a moment, noting his more aggressive manner. He felt his authority was being challenged, so Sherise tried to temper her approach.
“Blair has lost his touch,” she said, speaking softer. “Everyone knows it. He’s good at getting people to support candidates, but when it comes to the press, he’s alienated them all. You don’t want him to be your liaison. The press will take out their disdain for him on you in their coverage.”
Jerry frowned as if he was just now thinking of this. He looked very apprehensive, but almost—if Sherise was reading it right—helpless.
“Let’s look at it positively,” he said. “Press secretaries never last too long. The press will be hard on him and he’ll realize he’s in over his head and get out of the game. Then the job is yours.”
“You’re okay with that?” she asked, surprised at his reasoning. He was usually a very reasonable man. This was odd. “You’re okay with the first face of your administration to the press eventually fucking up?”
“This is the way it is, Sherise. I’m just trying to make the best of the situation as I see it. It’s at least something, isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t,” she answered. “And I’m not the hopeful type. I’m the type that . . .”
Sherise couldn’t take it anymore. He was practically moving away from her, taking a step back. It was as if he wanted to run away from her. This was not the man she knew. Jerry didn’t back down from conflict, and certainly not with someone who worked for him.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice trying to sound sympathetic even though she was still very angry. “Tell me, Jerry.”
“Tell you what?” he asked. “I’ve been telling you. The decision is made.”
“Something is wrong,” she said. “I know it. I can see it in your eyes, the way you’re carrying yourself, your voice. I can feel it. This isn’t just about favors you owe the donors.”
Jerry turned away from her and sighed loudly and heavily. He was silent for a full minute, the seconds stretching longer and longer.
“I’ve told you all I can,” he said. “I owe some people a lot more than I’m willing to tell you. I would not be here without them. I know this is unfair to you, but I’m counting on your loyalty and understanding. Some rewards take longer than others.”
“Sometimes they cease to be rewards when they take too long,” she countered.
“We’ve accomplished so much together, Sherise. Please, don’t turn your back on all of it because part of it didn’t turn out the way you wanted; the way either of us wanted. Don’t quit on me.”
“I didn’t quit on you,” she said. “And I won’t. I think you’re making a huge mistake and, like you said, that mistake will be realized very soon. It may end up correcting itself, or it might end up having negative repercussions that we can’t predict.”
“I know I can count on you,” he said, as if ignoring her final dire warning.
Yes, he could count on her, but Sherise knew at that moment that she could no longer count on him. As always, she could only count on herself when it came to her best interests. Something was up with Maurice and if she couldn’t find out what it was, she was going to have to work around it.
Jerry was right. Press secretaries left the White House often. It was a stressful job and she knew that Maurice wasn’t cut out for it. But that wasn’t going to be enough for her. She didn’t want sloppy seconds. She earned the right to be the first. She was going to have to convince Maurice that he wasn’t cut out for it before the administration began on January 20. That was exactly what she intended to do.
When Billie entered her office Monday morning, she let out a big sigh. No, there weren’t piles of folders and files on her desk. In this digital age, that never happened anymore. Still, she could just sense the massive amount of work waiting for her. She’d taken almost two weeks off around the holiday. She needed to use the time or she’d lose it. And no matter how much she planned ahead to be away, she knew there would be hell waiting for her when she got back.
“Vacation is definitely over, Billie,” she said to herself as she went to her chair behind her desk and sat down.
She leaned down to place her purse in the bottom drawer when she heard a familiar young voice.
“You’re back!”
Billie looked back up to see Tara Haas, her stepdaughter, or ex-stepdaughter, entering her office. The sixteen-year-old with glowing, beautiful dark brown skin, her father’s piercing eyes, and tiny features came rushing into the room, all smiles. Billie felt the familiar warmth in her heart at the sight of the girl she loved so much who was growing up way too fast for her liking. She could have sworn the girl looked older than she had the last time Billie had seen her just a few weeks ago.
Billie suddenly realized she had her engagement ring on and panicked as Tara made her away around her desk. She quickly snatched the ring and threw it in her purse. She would have to tell Tara about this, but right now was not the best time. She hadn’t exactly figured out how to approach it, especially suspecting that Tara would not take it well.
“What are you doing here so early?” Billie asked.
Tara was an intern at Agencis due to Billie’s efforts. It was a way for Billie t
o have Tara in her life without ruffling Porter’s feathers too much. After two years of fighting tooth and nail to keep Tara in her life and Porter using Tara to hurt or punish her, they called a truce. The damage had been done. Tara had hated them both and they agreed to work together to regain her trust.
Over the last year, Porter had brought Tara, now a junior in high school, back home from Michigan, and she and Billie had gotten close again. Convincing Agencis to hire her as an intern was just another way to spend time with her, and Billie cherished every moment. The private school that Tara attended had an internship partnership program that allowed juniors and seniors to spend two mornings a week with an approved company.
“Daddy dropped me off before going to work.” Tara reached out for her.
Billie reached up to give her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. She was grateful Tara didn’t complain. She usually didn’t like getting kisses anymore. It was hard for Billie not to still see her as a little girl.
“He gets up so damn early.”
“So you’re cussing now?” Billie sent her a look of displeasure.
This relationship was still weird. Billie was the only real mother Tara had ever known, but she had no authority over her. Not to mention the fact that Porter had a fit every time Billie tried to tell Tara what to do now.
“Damn isn’t a cuss,” Tara said in that high-pitched flighty voice she used when she wasn’t bothered. “Lane said shit in the meeting last week. I was sitting in the back of the room. No one even reacted.”
“You’re an intern,” Billie admonished. “It’s not okay for you to cuss at work at all. Get it?”
She sighed, annoyed, but then nodded. “You know this is my last week. ’Cuz then I have exams and holiday break and that’s it.”
Billie hadn’t realized how fast time had gone by. “Well, we’ll have to celebrate. You’ll be here on Wednesday. That will be your last day, so we’ll go to lunch, okay?”
This would work out well. Billie would wait until the internship was over to announce her engagement at work. That way, she could have all the time she needed to ease Tara into the new reality.
“Can Daddy join us?” Tara asked.
Billie cleared her throat as she turned her computer on. “I was hoping it could just be me and you. Or maybe just people from the office. Work-related, you know?”
“It would be okay,” Tara whined. “He behaves now, right? You guys get along really well. Last time he came by here to take me to lunch, you two talked for like ten minutes. I counted.”
She was right. Things were going well between Billie and Porter. It was kind of a miracle. She had finally let go of all her anger and feelings of resentment toward him and their failed marriage. This created an unexpected reaction from Porter. He let his anger subside too. More for Tara’s sake than Billie’s, but Billie was reaping the benefits, and they were actually civil with each other.
But Porter wasn’t as well behaved as Tara thought. When she wasn’t around, he continued to pry too much into Billie’s relationship with Michael and take jabs at the man. He was still jealous and he didn’t hide it well. But all in all, he was well behaved and the effect was a happier Tara, which was the best possible result.
“Let’s just keep it work,” Billie said. “I’m sure Daddy wants to do something special with just you and him anyway.”
“He’d want you there,” Tara said, her expression turning somber.
Billie was grateful when a knock came at the door and she turned to see Lane Redmond standing there. Looking like an Ivy League advert with bright blond hair and blue eyes the color of the ocean, he was wearing a suit that cost even more than his well-paid position would allow. He didn’t hide that he came from money.
“Welcome back,” he said. “Do you hate me for calling you twice while you were on vacay?”
“Sort of,” she said with a smile. “But I’ll definitely be calling you when you’re on vacation, so it’s all good.”
He laughed nervously, not sure if she was serious or not. “Hey, Tara.”
“This is my last week,” Tara said, smiling wide at Lane.
Billie suspected Tara had a little crush on Lane.
“Aww,” Lane said. “This place is going to fall apart without you.”
Tara was beaming now. Billie had never seen her so proud.
“I’ll visit, though,” Tara said. “I promise.”
“Hey.” Lane stepped into the office. “Someone put donuts in the kitchen near my office. You might want to rush if you want to beat everyone to them.”
“Donuts!” Tara was already heading out of the room. “See you later, Billie. Glad you’re back!”
Billie laughed. “The only thing more exciting to her than you is donuts.”
“I’ve been dumped for food before.” Lane took a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of Billie’s desk.
“You just come by to welcome me back?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Dylan Scott is coming in today.”
“Already?” Billie asked.
Dylan Scott was a senior counsel at Agencis who had suffered a heart attack a couple of months ago. He was in his fifties but weighed at least 350 pounds, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected. He was on medical leave currently.
“He’s not coming back,” Lane said. “Gil told me that he’s coming in to offer his resignation to him.”
Gil was general counsel at Agencis, the top lawyer and everyone’s boss.
“Is he not getting better?” Billie asked.
Lane shrugged. “Gil says they talked on the phone last night and Dylan said that the only time he gets chest pains is when he thinks of coming back to work.”
“Damn.”
Lane nodded. “I know, right? Anyway, he’s not coming back is basically the gist of it.”
Billie hoped this was the right choice for Dylan, but she knew that Lane was telling her for more reasons than concern for a coworker.
“So what does this mean for you?” she asked.
Lane smiled. “Gil said I had a lot of reason to be hopeful that his position is mine. You know what that means for you?”
“Your ego will be even harder for me to deal with?”
“Very funny,” he said. “No, it means you could be in for a promotion to senior associate general counsel. Happy?”
Billie would have to say an extra prayer tonight. A little over a year ago, her personal and professional life had fallen into a shambles. Today, she was head over heels in love and engaged to be married, she had a healthy loving relationship with Tara, and now she was possibly in line for a promotion at her job.
“Not happy,” she said. “Blessed. Very blessed.”
Corey James lived in Takoma Park, Maryland, a suburb less than ten minutes from D.C. His favorite place to hang out was the unassuming Cedar Crossing Tavern. This was where Erica met him for lunch, officially the second date that Erica didn’t think would happen.
That he would still want to see her after she basically freaked out during their first kiss said something very good about Corey, and even though she was having a pretty ugly week, she was excited about the chance to see him again.
Erica knew there would be some awkwardness when she entered the very cozy fifty-seat restaurant. She spotted him right away in the typical Hill business-casual khaki pants and button-down striped shirt. He looked young and vibrant.
He was talking to a pretty young waitress with red hair and creamy skin who looked like she was a size zero with large breasts almost popping out of her tight black top. As Erica approached, she could tell that the waitress was flirting with Corey. Not just from the way she giggled and leaned forward to show cleavage, but from the way her demeanor completely changed the second Erica approached.
“Erica!” Corey smiled and stood up to greet her.
She smiled back and felt very hopeful when he leaned in to kiss her on the lips. It was a quick kiss, but was warm and sincere. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
/> “Am I late?” Erica asked, pointing to the glass of red wine on the table.
“No,” he answered. “I’m early. Citra here just wanted me to try one of their new wines. On the house.”
“How nice,” Erica said as she looked at Citra, who politely smiled. What in the hell kind of name was Citra?
“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to take your order,” she said with a Southern accent before walking off.
Erica sat down in her chair and waited until Jessica was out of earshot. “She certainly wasn’t happy to see me.”
“What do you mean?” Corey asked.
“You’re joking, right?” Erica asked.
“Not so much joking as completely confused.”
“That girl was flirting her ass off with you.”
He laughed. “No way.”
“Yes, she was.” Erica didn’t believe for a second Corey was that naïve.
“You were here for five seconds. How could you see that?” he asked.
“I only needed one second. A girl knows these things, Corey. That tip of her head, the giggling and the leaning forward. I messed up her game showing up.”
“Nah, she didn’t have any game,” Corey assured her. “She’s not my type.”
Erica appreciated what Corey was trying to do, but she wasn’t a fool. “She’s every guy’s type. Come on. All guys love the pretty, real skinny girls with big boobs. I’ve always wished I could be that small.”
Corey’s brows centered in a frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Erica was a little surprised by his words and the expression on his face. He was almost . . . offended.
“I’m just saying that she’s . . .”
“You think she looks better than you?” he asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Erica said.
“You better not be,” he stated. “Real skinny girls are only hot to other girls. Not to men. Not real men, at least. You’re ten times hotter than she is.”
She smiled, hoping her blushing wasn’t obvious. “That may be true, but . . .”
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