He leaned his head back once mo
re, like he was going to begin his laughter once more. But my heart hurt with the sheer thought of it. I brought my hands forth, exhibiting my palms—that tender part of the body, so pale. “Hear me out. You are blackmailing me so that you can get ahead. You. However, I was already going to give you a leg up. Before this all happened, I thought you were a good person, a good worker. I thought you were a lot of things. But not a blackmailing asshole.” I regretted the words, but I bounced back, shaking my head. “The point is. I’m going to keep giving you a leg up. I’ll keep helping you if you delete those files—if you allow me to have my life back.” I swallowed.
His face grew broad with a closemouthed smile. “Amanda, Amanda.” He shook his head. “I’m so sick and tired of having this fucking conversation. You know that?”
My heart had already begun to sink in my stomach. Instinctively, I brought my arms over my chest. “Jason. Listen to yourself,” I reasoned with him. “You can have everything you want, and you can be a good person. People get to the top all the time without ruining other people’s lives.” I felt a bit of chaos working through my voice. I shivered internally, knowing that the words were bouncing from him without care. He just looked at me with sad, dead eyes. He didn’t care what happened to me.
“Amanda.” He took a large, cumbersome step toward me. He placed his hand on my shoulder. His grip was so heavy, so strong. The pain made my face pinch. “Amanda, Amanda. If you ever come to me and complain about our little situation again, the situation will explode in your face.” He nodded at me, his cheeks ruddy. I wanted to hit him, to slap him until he didn’t look like anything anymore.
I swallowed. “So that’s it, then?” I asked him. I felt my body shuddering. The fear was passing heartily through my chest.
“That’s it then. If you come to me one more time—or if you don’t do my bidding anymore—those photos will explode all over the internet, all over the news. Everywhere. That fine ass will be a celebrity.” He reached down then, and he smacked my butt, making me leap toward the wall in alarm. I brought my hands up to my face, feeling certain that I was going to cry. I felt my stomach lurch.
But then he just laughed, as he normally did. He reached toward the door and flung it open, turning out the light. “Why don’t you sit in here for a while and think about what you’ve done?” he asked me, his voice sounding so much like a kindergarten teacher’s voice. I slumped toward the ground, closing my eyes as I heard the door snap in place.
That had been my last chance. Now, I was doomed to exist in this terrifying reality. Perhaps I could move somewhere. Bermuda? Jamaica? Budapest? I could find a home and a hope for myself somewhere.
But then I’d have to kiss both my career and the love of my life goodbye.
And I wasn’t ready to do that.
Chapter Seven
After a full hour in that dark, closet-like space, I finally righted myself and moved into the brightly-lit, swarming office once more. The clatter of fingers on keyboards, the pulse of the work life made my smile light up on my face. I passed by Jason’s desk, noting that he was eating a sandwich in the grossest way possible. I felt sorry for him—this man with mustard streaming down his face. I felt sorry for him in a way that I couldn’t quite understand.
I had a meeting with Xavier at 3 in the afternoon, I knew. I prepared the notes for the “campaign” meeting, knowing that we’d discuss so much more than just the campaign. Sometimes I worried that I was far too distracted with loving him, that I couldn’t focus completely on creating a good campaign for him. But I couldn’t care about that. I was in the sunlight continually, smiling up toward the sky. (In a matter of speaking, of course. Jason’s eternal glare made me want to run for my life, sometimes.)
I tapped toward the Oval Office with the notes beneath my elbow. I thought I could feel Jason’s eyes on me as I passed him, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning toward him, of allowing him to notice my fear. The morning had been gruesome, but I’d worked through it, I’d come out on the other side. It was going to be okay.
I snapped my knuckles against the Oval Office, noting that there wasn’t a Secret Service agent on this side of the wall. Suddenly, the door lurched open, revealing Dimitri on the other side. I remembered that I hadn’t seen him since that evening when I’d gotten dressed and snagged a ride home from him, still buzzing with the events of the previous few hours. I didn’t make eye contact with Dimitri, feeling far too frightened of all that he knew about me.
“Thank you, sir,” I murmured, skirting around him.
I found myself in the Oval Office once more. I grinned sheepishly toward Xavier, who stood in the center of the room. His black hair gleamed beneath the light, and his beard was in need of a trim. “Miss Amanda. Please. Come sit down. You’ve brought the notes?”
I nodded, gesturing with them slightly. I sat beside him on the couch. Our eyes were brought together as we listened to Dimitri leave and the door close behind him, leaving us in a bubble of happiness. He reached up and snuck his fingers through my hair, brushing my hair behind my shoulder. “How’s your day?” he asked me softly.
I remembered the morning with Jason, hearing the words that he was just “this close” from ruining my life forever. But I nodded, shrugging a bit. “It was good. It was okay,” I said.
Xavier frowned for a moment. But he didn’t dwell on it. “Did you bring the notes for the campaign?”
I nodded and flung the folder forward, allowing it to open on the coffee table. I began working him through the list of various press releases, through the places we would ultimately have to travel during the fall and spring in order to generate a following. The man he was up against had his way with many of the southern states, and we had no hope down there. I shook my head and traced a red X over the states he just couldn’t win. “I’m sorry, sir,” I said, flirting with him a bit and wagging my eyebrows. “I just don’t think you’ll finagle those votes.”
He raised his eyebrow at me then. He brought his hands over my thin waist and squeezed gently, smiling at me. “You don’t think so?” he exclaimed, teasing me.
I shook my head, laughing once more. “I don’t think so, sir.”
“What is all this ‘sir’ business?” he asked me. He brought his face toward mine and kissed my ear, the side of my neck. “You like that?”
I nodded, cooing toward him. “I think so. Maybe.” I turned toward him, and he kissed my cheek, my eyebrow, my lips. I sighed into him, feeling like the rest of the world was falling away from us—like it was just he and I, now.
“When can I see you again?” he asked me then.
I tipped my head to the right, raising my eyebrow at him. “You’d really like to know, wouldn’t you? I mean. My schedule’s just packed.” I teased him, rubbing at his cheek with my thumb. “God, you’re cute.” I giggled toward him.
He shook his head. “You’re a menace. Come on. When can I see you again? I have the perfect plan for us, if you just tell me when. God, when.” His voice had descended, growing deeper.
I paused, making him wait for me. I tapped at the edge of my chin, thinking. Thinking. “I suppose I’d like to see you this weekend. But I’ll have to check my schedule. I know you’re the President of the United States and all, but when a girl has plans, she has plans.” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly.