Everywhere I looked on the walk back from the small office, I felt like people’s eyes were on me, like they were watching me. I felt my heart constrict in my chest. Suppose—suppose they suspected something? Suppose they knew that I was sleeping with the president? Suppose they knew that I was essentially under Jason’s thumb, without any control? I cleared my throat, ready to attract some people’s eyes. But no one looked up, like I was invisible or something. I shivered.
I sat at my desk and tapped my fingers against the wood, feeling incredibly foolish. I watched as Jason sauntered back into the room. His shirt sort of poked out around his belt. So unkempt, I thought; what a goddamned mess. And yet so organized that he could actually get the better of me. Incredible.
The terror of my life was escalating around me. I felt like I was losing my grip. I couldn’t even go back to my beautiful apartment—the apartment I had worked so hard to get, to organize, to decorate. The apartment that felt so dirty now.
I looked down the hallway and saw that Camille had just exited the Oval Office. She looked arrogant. She was all elbows, with this short, pixie haircut. She nodded to the Secret Service agent and then stomped down the hallway. I wondered what sort of discussion they’d had. I wondered if she knew he was having an affair, if she could smell it on him like some women could. I remembered that the man I’d slept with from Congress had had a wife. She’d suspected, he’d told me. She’d known just from the happiness about him, from the jaunt in his step. “We’re meant to die unhappy,” he’d said, stroking my back in bed. His hair was coarse on his chest.
I tapped my fingers: one, two, three, four, five, as I watched Camille storm into the other side of the house. I thought of her husband—a man, I realized then, who I’d come to believe was far more mine than anyone else’s. Was I okay with sharing him? I wasn’t sure. I felt the rage billow through me; I felt that I should absolutely dart down the hallway and take advantage of this one thing in my life that gave me joy, that gave me an escape from everything else continually going to shit.
Xavier. Xavier.
Even his name was so sensual. I was always so worried about us, about what was going to happen if people found out. But I knew that Xavier didn’t have these fears. So why was I so eternally befuddled with this problem? Why was I running away from the only thing that made my heart brim, made my lips smile? Why was I falling away from it?
I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, and I tried to listen to my heart for the first time in my all-too-professional life. I felt the beats course through me. This was a bad situation. But I had to
take advantage of it. I had to feel his dick inside me once more. I had to be a part of this.
I had to follow this pleasure down the White House rabbit hole, certain that I’d never come back for air.
Chapter Four
I tapped the long rod against the board behind me, explaining the campaign to a few of the team members. “We have to assert to the American people our sure and steady comprehension of education, of readying American children for a better future.” I nodded my head, gazing at each of the team members’ assertive eyes. They were each ready to go into the campaign world and take over, make something of themselves. Truly, I was rooting for them.
Suddenly, I felt a shadow pass over the back of the crowd. My eyes darted up, and I found myself eye to eye with Xavier. I hadn’t spoken with him in several days, and just his presence in the room seemed to make my entire body shake. I raised my eyebrows. “Any questions?”
A man in the front row raised his hand. But my eyes were still drawn toward the president. I wanted him to speak.
He brought his hands together then, after a long, terrifying, full-of-tension pause. He clapped loudly, allowing the echo to course through my spine. “Amanda. That was a beautiful presentation.”
Several of the campaign team members nodded their heads in agreement.
“With a team like you all,” Xavier continued, moving next to me. He brought his hand behind my back, almost too low. I smiled, unsure, knowing what he was risking. “I don’t know how I could possibly lose.” He winked at us all, and a few people laughed. “Now! Back to work.” He barked these words with a grin on his face, bringing an overall sense of calm to the area. The people on the team knew who they were working for; they knew that he was a good, kind-hearted person—a person who’d worked the past three years, fighting tooth and nail with Congress to pass some of the most essential bills in our country’s history.
I spun toward him, blinking wildly. I placed my hand on his and removed it from my back. “How are you, Mr. President?” I asked him. I could feel Jason’s eyes on us from across the room, but I didn’t care. “I see you’ve been quite busy lately. You haven’t been answering my emails about the campaign.”
He raised his left eyebrow—the one I liked so much. I felt my stomach flip. “You know how I feel about boring emails. Let’s get it handwritten next time.” He winked at me.
I laughed. “My, my. You’re quite the old man, aren’t you?
He shrugged his shoulders. He leaned toward me and I nearly felt his lips against my ear as he whispered, “Come to my office this afternoon. I want to talk to you about the campaign.” He winked at me as he drew away.
My face had already turned an incredible beet red. I scratched my head. “Okay,” I whispered.
I sauntered back to my desk and scribbled something—a few spare words—into a notebook. I could still feel Jason’s eyes across the room. Finally, the burning became too much. I lurched my head up, and his eyes were filled with vitality. He was bringing his fingers together like an evil conqueror, considering his next plot. I bit my tongue and tasted blood. This terribly dressed man could ruin my life.
I was simply his pawn, ready to do his bidding.
But I stood, knowing I needed to meet the president. I paused at Jason’s desk. Jason still peered up at me, his lips curling into a smile. “I have to go to the Oval Office,” I stated to him with authority. I looked down my nose at him in his chair. “Is there any sort of message you’d like me to pass on to the president?”
Jason tipped his head to the right. “Just don’t be too loud in there,” he stated, his eyes wicked.
I wanted to stomp my feet, to tug at my hair. I wanted him to leave me the hell alone. But I knew I held no real power over him. So I nodded my head. “I’ll recommend that you take on some new responsibilities or something?”
“Whatever you feel is right,” Jason stated, shrugging. His eyes looked so bright, so happy. What evil coursed through that man?
But I brushed it from me as I walked. I remembered that just the previous day I’d been so sure that my mind and my heart could find happiness, that I could go with the flow—at least for now—and take advantage of this truly mind-altering situation. I remembered his body over mine, almost like it was fiction I’d spun in my head.
I greeted the Secret Service agent and he opened the door for me, his face stoic. I wondered if they talked about me—the other woman.