The people let out a great cheer. My heart had stretched itself in my chest. I brought my hands together and applauded with the rest of them, glancing over for only a moment to see that Jason had stood up and directed lewd motions toward me—motions that reminded me, of course, of the photos he had stockpiled at his home office computer, I was certain. I brought my hands to my stomach, feeling waves of disgust and anger. Would I ever feel normal again?
Xavier called me to Jason’s desk then, and the three of us—like some awkward threesome—worked through the outline, scratching things out and rewording. Jason had far too much say in the final product, and my blood was boiling. But I couldn’t say anything. Everything I suggested was automatically vetoed by the harsh voice of Jason—so authoritative in the rushing, chaotic room.
I bit my lip and looked up at the president, feeling Jason’s leering eyes on me. Xavier was completely enthralled in his work, patiently making notes in his small planner. I wondered if he’d written a small note for me—for me that evening, somewhere in the book. I wondered if it was written in code.
But I couldn’t linger on this. I held my hand over my stomach and I told the men that I was suffering from a stomachache. Anxiety pangs were eating my heart, my lungs, my throat, and my stomach, anyway. I couldn’t stand there a moment longer. I rushed from the room in a sort of haze, still feeling the determination in Jason’s face.
He wanted to destroy me.
Chapter Twelve
After nearly growing sick in the bathroom, I found myself back at my desk, my head between my legs. A small bead of sweat had dropped down my forehead, toward my nose. I felt like a mess, but I knew the workday wasn’t close to being over—that I still had so many lonely, anxious hours without Xavier by my side. I could feel his presence back in the office.
When I lurched back from the bottom ethers of my desk, I found that the room no longer held Jason. He was missing from his desk, leaving only a sad pile of papers on the edge. I brought my hands to my hair, tugging a bit and remembering that he was probably meeting with Xavier while I sat there, so alone in my reverie. The thought of it panicked me. I brought a Kleenex over my eyes, over my mouth, trying to find a way to breathe normally.
But suddenly, the Oval Office door erupted down the hall, bringing Jason back into the world like a messy birth. He looked quite pleased with himself as he walked, bouncing a bit and allowing his belly to arch high into the air. His eyes were directly on me from the distance, and I held the eye contact, daring him to approach. I couldn’t be so afraid of him anymore. He’d gotten his meeting with the president. What more was he going to ask me for, now? He had a direct fucking line.
He came to me and flung his hands onto the desk, forcing the photo of me and my mother down onto the ground. He ticked his tongue at the top of his mouth and he looked at me playfully. “You know, I just had a really fine meeting with the president.”
My heart quickened. I sat still in my chair, looking up at him. I blinked wildly. “And?”
I didn’t want to give him any satisfaction. But the satisfaction seemed to come from himself, regardless.
“Of course, I can’t tell you anything. Not here.” He waggled his eyebrows high on his face, and my insides squirmed.
I stood, pointing my finger on the now-empty desk between us. I stabbed it down, harder and harder. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on, Jason. You didn’t tell him about the—“
But Jason just brought his finger to his lips in a jerking motion, shaking his head quickly. “Nope nope! Don’t want to give away any trade secrets.” He spun around then, leaving me at my desk alone once more. He sauntered down the hallway, back toward the bathroom. I felt like I lived in a sea of doubt, of uncertainty. When the fuck was I going to get out of here?
But I had hope.
That evening, I would be with Xavier. I would be with him; comfortable, even if a bit nervous because of the events of the day. I couldn’t tell him anything, certainly. The mere fact that I was having dinner with him was far too risky.
I dressed in my bedroom, kneeling beside the dresser, trying to make sure I wasn’t revealed to the camera—wherever it lurked. I righted myself and peered in the mirror at my slim frame, at my gorgeous brunette hair. I still looked good, I knew. Even after all I’d been through; even after all I’d worked for. I still looked good.
Out in front of my apartment building sat a Secret Service vehicle. I slid myself into it, and we sped into the night. I thought for a moment about the education press release—how it had already been met with incredible acclaim. I felt a burning burst of pride.
We arrived at the White House—that joyful beacon of white light. I hopped from the cab and tapped to the front door. However, I suddenly felt a hand on my elbow. I peered up, frightened, at the man beside me. “Dimitri?” I asked him.
“The president has requested we take a side entrance,” Dimitri stated, not a single ounce of happiness in his voice. I followed his lead, down the steps, around the side of the massive house. I had never entered from this particular door. He opened it for me and searched the interior before allowing me to enter.
“Where are we?” I whispered.
“Secret arena. The president holds his top secret meetings here.”
“And I’m top secret?” I whispered, unsure of how to feel.
“We certainly don’t think that will be true for long,” Dimitri muttered. Perturbed, I didn’t say anything in response.
His irritation with me made my heart cold, my fingers jittery. I followed behind him, down the steps, noting a soft glow at the back of a small room. He gestured with his massive arm, allowing me to pass him. My eyes were bright, trying to catch his. But he wouldn’t return my eye contact.
I entered the room and found a small table set with long, luxurious candles. The candlelight was the only illumination in the room, casting a soft, ghostly glow over everything. I could see Xavier in the light. He stood before me; the most handsome man I’d ever seen. I swallowed and walked toward him, feeling like I was going to meet my doom.
“Good evening, Amanda,” he stated. His voice was deep, filled with such passion for me.
“Hi,” I whispered. My word was so wispy when compared to his voice. He brought the chair out for me and allowed me to sit just next to him. I brought the flounces of my dress around the chair. “This is beautiful.”
“I know,” Xavier said, looking only at me.