I whispered to him then. “What’s going to happen to us?”
He leaned over on his elbow and blinked at me, his face so open. “What do you mean?”
I caught his lips in mine, still feeling my pussy so wet for him, wanting more. Perhaps later? I chugged forward with my words. “I mean. What’s going to happen to us? We’re so—you’re so…” My words were cascading from my mouth. I wanted to tell him I loved him again. That was the only thing I could think of, in that moment.
Luckily, he did it for me. He kissed my nose and smiled that perfect, tooth-filled smile. “Baby. I love you,” he whispered. ?
?And we’re going to get through this together. I promised you a good future, without even knowing this was going to happen. And I still mean that.”
His words seemed so sure, so trusting. I bit my lip before telling him a very quiet “I love you, too.” But then, I remembered Rachel’s words. How could I actually love him if I didn’t respect him enough to carry my problems, to help me through this terrifying event in my life. I inhaled slowly and closed my eyes.
“What is it?” Xavier asked me, folding my hair over my ear. “What’s going on?”
But a single tear had emanated down my cheek. “Um. Xavier. I can’t—I can’t live without telling you this anymore.”
Xavier laughed, almost half-heartedly. I think he could tell something was really wrong. “What is it?” His thumb traced my cheek, and I wanted to stay together like this for the rest of my days.
But I knew that Xavier would help me; Xavier would get me out of this mess. Perhaps he would even put Jason in jail—or send him off to Bora Bora. Whatever! As long as he and his photographs were out of my life, not sure to ruin my entire existence, my entire career.
I swallowed. “Okay. It’s a doozy. Are you sure you’re ready?” I asked him. My eyes blinked wildly.
He nodded. “I’m ready,” he whispered. He winked at me, even, warming me up. Assuring me it was okay.
“Okay. Do you remember the first time we did this—the first time we got together?” My voice was so meek, lacking any sort of certainty.
He nodded, grinning. “How could I forget.”
“Right,” I whispered. “Right. But what if I told you—you weren’t the only one who knew about that rendezvous?”
He sat up on his elbow, now—higher. Alert. “What’s that?” Clearly I wasn’t telling him anything he wanted to hear. “Someone knows about that time? About us being together?”
I nodded, feeling another tear course down my cheek. Suddenly, I was so worried. But I’d already come too far to turn back—I’d already given him too much information. I swallowed. “It’s just. Someone was spying on me for some reason.” My voice cracked.
Suddenly, Xavier was up. He sat upright on the silk sheets. Nothing on his face illustrated that he’d just had the most pleasurable, beautiful sexual experience of his life. He blinked. “Please tell me. Who was spying on you?” His voice sounded so presidential, so curt. I wanted to run away, to take it all back. I wanted this to be beautiful again.
I sat up as well, feeling like an alien in my own body. “He put the cameras around my apartment,” I whispered. I felt my tongue lolling around in my mouth. “He put cameras in my apartment, and they—they ruined everything.”
“Who did this?” Xavier asked again. “I don’t have time for this, Amanda. This needs to be dealt with.”
This was all wrong; it was going all wrong! I knelt my chin down to my chest. “Jason. Jason did this. He—he wanted to take advantage of me, to know what was going on in my life. He sensed that we were seeing each other.”
Xavier didn’t say anything for a long time. I suddenly felt like we were strangers.
“He’s taking advantage of you?”
I nodded. “He—he makes me—he controls me.” But already, the words were losing steam as I watched the anger grow in Xavier’s eyes. He righted himself on the floor and reached toward his clothes, shoving his muscled legs into his black suit pants.
“I don’t know why the fuck you didn’t tell me about this before, Amanda. I hired you to be my campaign manager. You’re supposed to be my fucking eyes and ears out there. You aren’t supposed to be the problem.”
My eyes grew wide with the words. Suddenly, he’d transitioned into being my employer; he was reprimanding me about my job. I tucked the silk sheet over my breasts and blinked at him, feeling like a very small child. “I know,” I whispered meekly. “I know.”
“But you don’t know,” he continued. His voice was loud, and it echoed throughout the small space. Faux bedroom. “You don’t even fucking know how to clean this up. I knew better than to fucking hire a new girl, 29 years old when everyone else was better qualified.”
The words stung. I righted myself, blinking wildly at this man—this man I had thought I could love. But suddenly, he stuck his hand out to the right, toward the door. The finger led me there. “Leave, Amanda,” he retorted, without giving me a chance to explain myself. “You must leave.”
I grabbed my clothes and rushed out, naked, feeling the tears rush down my face. In the movie theater, An American in Paris was still playing, and it gave me such a false sense of security as I hurriedly pulled on my clothes.
Beneath the Eiffel Tower, they danced on and on. Meanwhile, I rushed from the White House, feeling like Cinderella after the ball.