Power, Seduction & Scandal

by Angela Winters

  “It is true,” he said quickly. “You and those curves make a brother lose his train of thought.”

  She laughed. “You’re embarrassing me. Stop.”

  “This could be a problem,” he said.

  “What?” she asked. “My curves?”

  “All of it,” he said, looking her up and down. “I mean outside the office, I can handle losing my train of thought, but at work . . .”

  “Wait!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Did Justin . . . Did you get a job offer?”

  He nodded with a proud smile. “I’m joining the firm right after the new year.”

  “Congratulations.” Erica felt both excited and nervous about the prospect of working alongside someone she was also dating. “Do you think Justin is okay with . . . us?”

  “I asked him,” Corey said. “He is a little worried and that’s understandable. But he was willing to trust us.”

  She grabbed a menu and began looking at the choices. “We have to be professional at work, you know. No flirting or foolishness.”

  “All business,” he said with a nod. “I know how to play this game.”

  “Is this a game?’ she asked, looking up from the menu with a playfully raised brow.

  “Everything is a game,” he said. “Some more difficult than others.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re pegging me as difficult?”

  “Clearly.”

  She leaned back. “You hardly know me. We’ve been out once.”

  “And I’m still trying to figure that out,” he said. “I backed off because you clearly didn’t want to talk, but . . .”

  Citra the waitress returned with a wide smile for Corey. “Can I take your order yet?”

  Corey ordered a glass of the new wine for Erica. While she merely acknowledged Erica’s order of a taco salad, Citra praised Corey’s choice of jerk chicken wings as great and promised him he would be very pleased.

  “I know you said you’re guarded,” Corey continued after Citra left, “but I was really worried. I wish you’d tell me more.”

  Erica knew this conversation was coming and she had nothing more to offer him, even though she wanted to. She hated this secret and she hated Jonah for placing the burden of it on her.

  “What I can tell you,” Erica said, in the most reassuring voice she could muster, “is that it wasn’t about you. I was having a great time. And that kiss. It was nice.”

  “Nice?” he asked, looking a bit injured.

  “Better than nice,” she added. “It was just . . . other things.”

  “What other things?” he asked.

  “We’re not there yet,” she said, even though Erica didn’t think they’d ever be there.

  “Here’s what I’ll say.” Corey leaned forward on the table, looking into her eyes. “I like you a lot, Erica. I just want a chance. Whatever it is you think you can’t trust me with, I just want a chance.”

  There was something about the look in his eyes as he said those words that made Erica want to defy everything she knew. She wanted to open up to him, to tell him all about Jonah. It wasn’t even keeping Jonah’s secret because he’d wanted her to anymore. Now the thought of telling anyone about Jonah was painful to Erica. She didn’t want to open up about that. She didn’t want to reveal anything to herself that she couldn’t handle.

  Thankfully, Citra returned with a glass of wine to break the tension. Just before Erica reached for it to taste, her phone rang. It was sitting on the top of her purse in the chair next to her and she could see the ID from where she sat. Her heart skipped a beat at the name she saw: J. N.

  “What the . . .” Erica reached for the phone, turning to Corey. “I’m sorry, but I have to see who this is.”

  “Go ahead,” Corey said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t mind.”

  She doubted that was true, but Erica couldn’t have resisted seeing who was calling her from Jonah’s phone.

  “Hello?” she asked tentatively as she answered.

  “Is this Erica?” the woman’s voice asked curtly.

  “Who is this?” Erica asked.

  “This is Juliet Nolan.”

  Erica felt a thud in her gut at the sound of that name. Jonah’s ex-wife, the blond ice queen. The woman who hated Erica for existing and messing up her idea of what she thought was a perfect life. Although they had come face-to-face fewer times than one can count on a single hand, the two women had never been in the same room without something bad happening.

  “Why are you calling me?” Erica asked.

  “I don’t want to.” She was clearly annoyed. “I have to. You know what happened.”

  “Of course I do,” Erica said. “What do you want, Juliet?”

  “I could only find your number on his phone and I needed to talk to you.”

  “What is it?” Erica asked, impatiently.

  “The funeral,” Juliet said. “You can’t come.”

  “What?” Erica said loud enough to catch Corey’s attention.

  “I’m telling you that you can’t come,” Juliet said. “If you were thinking of coming.”

  “I wasn’t!” Erica yelled. She had done her research and knew that the funeral was Wednesday.

  “Good,” Juliet said, her voice sounding very satisfied. “Because you aren’t welcome. This is for family.”

  “You’re divorced,” she said.

  “I’m still his family and I have his kids,” she said. “His real kids.”

  “Excuse me?” Erica asked. “I’m not real?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I know damn well what you mean, Juliet. You have no right . . .”

  “I have every right!” she yelled angrily. “You are not welcome. Don’t show up. I will have security there and if they see you, they know to throw you out. Don’t embarrass yourself and my family!”

  With that, Juliet hung up and left Erica sitting there stewing in her anger.

  “What is it?” Corey asked as he watched Erica stuff the phone back in her purse.

  “Nothing!” Erica snapped. She felt her chest tightening and her teeth clenching against each other.

  “It’s not nothing,” he said. “You look like you’re about to explode. What is it?”

  “How dare she!”

  That bitch thought she could dismiss her like that? She didn’t want to go to his damn funeral, but she wasn’t going to be told by that cold shrew that she couldn’t. She wasn’t going to be told she wasn’t real.

  “Seriously, Erica. What’s going on?”

  Erica could see the look of impatience on Corey’s face, but there was nothing she could do about it. She was too wound up. She was feeling anger and resentment take her over and she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it under control. She had a right to be angry at Juliet’s cruelty, but she was feeling enraged right now.

  She wanted to do something. She needed to do something. She needed to make Juliet sorry for trying to make her feel like she wasn’t a real person. Making her feel like she had no father.

  “I’m sorry, Corey.” Erica grabbed her purse and stood up. “I have to go. I just . . . I just can’t do this right now.”

  Erica heard him call her name once, maybe twice as she rushed out of the restaurant. She wasn’t really listening as she rushed down the street. At first the tears were small, but within seconds, they were trailing down her cheeks like waterfalls.

  “That bitch!” she yelled to the air. “I am his real daughter!”

  6

  When Sherise arrived at work Monday morning, she already had a plan in place, but the second she stepped inside her office and saw her assistant, Winnie, putting her things in a box, she was knocked off her game.

  “What are you doing?” Sherise asked, alarmed.

  Was she fired? What happened?

  “I’m sorry.” Winnie put the box down.

  Winnie was a twenty-three-year-old beauty, half black, half Asian. She was petite and dressed in the hipster fashion that wa
s consuming D.C. all the way down to the glasses with no prescription and ballet shoes.

  “Maurice told me to do it,” she said.

  “Do what? Throw my things away?” Sherise walked over to her desk and threw her purse on her chair.

  “Move you.” Winnie was almost shaking in fear. “I swear to God, Sherise, I didn’t want to do it, but he said that he’s the boss now and I need to move you because your office is the biggest.”

  “He wants my office?” Sherise laughed while gritting her teeth. “That son of a bitch.”

  Sherise reached in the box and began pulling everything Winnie had put in right back out.

  “Is this the only box?” Sherise asked.

  Winnie nodded quickly. “What am I supposed to say if he gets mad at me?”

  “Tell him to come see me,” Sherise said. “Look, Winnie. Maurice is an idiot. He tries to hide that by being overly aggressive. He’ll try to intimidate you so you’re afraid to point out his mistakes. When he does, you come to me, okay?”

  She nodded again. “Why is he even here? That job should be . . .”

  “Don’t.” Sherise held her hand up to stop her. “This is Jerry’s decision. Don’t worry. It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”

  “I hope so,” Winnie said.

  “Can you go get me a coffee?” Sherise asked.

  “That,” Winnie said, “I can do.”

  Winnie left as Sherise began replacing all of the items on her desk. She took a few deep breaths. She couldn’t let things like this get to her. She had a plan, and her plans always worked when she stayed focused and didn’t let little obstacles distract her from the big ones.

  She didn’t have much time that day, and the second she heard voices outside her office, an angry man’s voice, she pulled herself together, tossed the box behind the sofa near the left wall, and sat calmly in her chair. By the time Maurice threw the door open, she was casually glancing down at her phone, looking as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Why did you tell her to stop the move?” he asked, his voice grating.

  He was giving her a menacing look, but Sherise refused to be intimidated by this fool. She looked up at him with a calm expression and a smooth tone to her voice.

  “Good morning to you too, Maurice.”

  He made a grumbling sound as he tried to calm down only because her polite demeanor made him look bad.

  “Sherise, I’m the press secretary now. You’re aware of that, right?”

  She nodded. “Jerry told me.”

  “Good.” He nodded definitively. “Then you know that I get the biggest office on the team. That’s this office.”

  “This is my office,” Sherise said. “There is one two doors down that Phoebe Gills works in. It’s almost as big as mine. I’m sure she’d move for you.”

  “I don’t care if she’d move for me,” Maurice ranted. “Sherise, I want my office.”

  “This is my office, Maurice.” Sherise calmly placed her phone on the desk and sat back. “I’m not moving.”

  He shook his head, almost looking as if he felt sorry for her. “I know this is hard on you, Sherise. You did a fine job during the campaign.”

  “I did a great job,” she corrected him.

  “I don’t know if I’d say that.” He shrugged. “You were fine, but this is the big show now. Jerry needs someone with more experience. The PS job is mine, so you need to—”

  “I know how you got this job,” Sherise said. “So let’s not pretend it was because Jerry actually wanted you.”

  His expression grew very still before he blinked quickly. Sherise knew that she’d cut a vein there. He had a horrible poker face. But this wasn’t her game right now. She didn’t know enough to go this route. Time to get back on focus.

  “Kind of sad,” she opined. “You need payoffs for the suck-ups to get a job now.”

  His discomfort quickly changed to resentment. “I don’t need suck-ups to get me my job.”

  “Yes, you do,” Sherise said. “You used to be good, Maurice. I’ll give you that. But you’re too old-school. You couldn’t keep up. You don’t know how to deal with women in the workplace. Your reputation has been ruined.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked, sarcastically.

  “Like I said, people you helped when you were good called in favors to the president-elect who owes them for supporting his campaign. That’s why you’re here. It’s the only reason you’re here.”

  “Even if that was true,” he said, walking over to her desk and staring down at her, “the result is, I’m here. I’m your boss.”

  Sherise stood up, placing her hands in fists on her desk. She eyed him intensely and said slowly, “And this is still my office.”

  His eyes tightened to slits as he huffed. “Fuck the office. It’s just a symbol. I don’t need those. You still work for me.”

  There was a knock on the door before Winnie peeked inside.

  “Sherise?” she asked.

  “Come in, Winnie,” Sherise said.

  “I got your coffee.” Winnie quickly hurried to the desk, making a point to avoid being near Maurice. “Anything else?”

  “I’m good for now,” Sherise said.

  “Wait a second, sweetheart,” Maurice called out just as Winnie had almost made it to the door.

  “Her name is Winnie,” Sherise said firmly.

  Maurice smiled. “Of course. Winnie, right?”

  Winnie nodded. You could see that she didn’t appreciate the sweetheart remark. Sherise imagined that Winnie, being as young as she was, might not be savvy enough to realize that he’d done it on purpose, to make her uncomfortable. She would have to sit down with Winnie and give her a talk about keeping a record of everything Maurice said and did in her presence. She had to know he had no right to call her sweetheart.

  “I’m going to need a coffee as well,” he said. “Black with cream. Please bring it to the main conference room.”

  “Certainly,” she said. “Anything else?”

  The slightly sarcastic tone in her voice made Sherise think she had underestimated Winnie. She was clearly not pleased.

  “Yes, I need you to get me a hard copy of the PTEA before our training meeting in an hour.”

  “The PTEA?” she asked.

  “The Presidential Transitions Effectiveness Act.” His tone showed he was annoyed she didn’t know. “You need to know these things, Wanda. We’re an important part of the president’s transition team.”

  “It’s Winnie,” she said, flatly.

  “Whatever,” he said. “Just get me a hard copy.”

  “Actually,” Sherise smiled wide, unable to hide how easy Maurice was going to make her plan, “the PTEA is outdated. It was amended by the PTA, the Presidential Transition Act, in 2000.”

  Maurice pressed his lips together and stared Sherise down. She could tell he was trying to see if she was making this up to make him look foolish. Sherise didn’t blink as she met his stare with her own. She never stopped smiling. He was wrong, she was right, and he knew it.

  “I’m sure that’s what you meant, though,” Sherise finally said, her smile tilting to the side slyly.

  He swung around to Winnie, who was standing in the doorway, trying hard to stifle a smile by biting her lower lip.

  “Just do it!” he snapped at her.

  Winnie rushed out of the office and Maurice turned back to Sherise.

  “You think you’re funny?” he asked.

  “No,” she answered. “I think I’m more knowledgeable of the transition than you, even though you’re the boss.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “I am the boss. You better get with the program, Sherise, or you will be sorry.”

  “That sounds like a threat.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He smiled, backing away.

  He looked at her for a few minutes more before turning and walking out, slamming her office door behind him.

  Sherise sat back down in h
er chair with a very accomplished smile on her face.

  This was her plan. She was going to make Maurice look like a fool. He was clearly going to make it easy for her. No one on Jerry’s team would have confidence in him. She would make him appear incompetent, or even more incompetent than he already clearly was. She was going to bring it to a point where there were only two solutions. Jerry would have to fire him to restore order to his team or Maurice would be so frustrated, overwhelmed, and humiliated that he would quit, knowing he wasn’t up for it.

  When either result happened, Sherise would be there to save the day and take her rightful place as press secretary.

  “I’ll get with the program all right,” she said to herself. “My program.”

  Billie was in the small legal library taking a break. Since she’d come back earlier that morning, everyone was stopping by her office. They needed this file, that folder, this research done, that call made. It was as if she was the only person who actually worked there. She needed a quick break from it all and when she got a call from Sherise, she took it. The library was always a safe bet. No one actually looked for books anymore. Everything was online.

  “So what are you going to do?” Billie asked. “Tell everyone how you made a fool of him? Is that gonna work?”

  “I’m not stupid,” Sherise said. “Winnie’s gonna do it. Trust me. That girl can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life. That’s why I never tell her anything. By the time we had our meeting an hour later, people were already talking about it.”

  “I don’t know, Sherise.” Billie sat down in one of the tightly wound leather chairs in the center of the room. “If this guy is the asshole you say he is, won’t he catch on that you’re up to something and just fire you?”

  “He can’t fire me,” Sherise insisted. “Jerry won’t let him.”

  “You don’t know that.” Billie worried about Sherise sometimes. She thought she was invincible.

  “I don’t know a lot about what’s behind Jerry’s decision on Maurice, but I know that he wants me to stick around. He wants me to have this job. I’m confident that he won’t let Maurice fire me.”

  Billie didn’t doubt Sherise’s power over Northman. This girl had the future president of the United States crushing on her. “You have less than two months to get this done.”