Billionaire Baby Daddy

The only move I had was this.

I brought my hands over my chest and tapped my foot, anger dripping from my face. “You girls want to talk that trash someplace else? Be my guest. The people in this fucking room are working for the betterment of human society. They’re working to align the best President of the United States to be in the position to lead this country once again. Please, ladies.” I glared at them, even as their eyes fell to the table before them—even as one of the girl’s tears fell toward her lips, salting her tongue. “Go work at a fucking fashion magazine if you’re going to spread that gossip through my office.” I slotted my finger toward my chest and spewed the anger toward them.

The girls flung themselves away from their desks. They gathered their things. One of them had begun weeping. They fell down the hallway, toward the steps. They held no words for me, and I knew that I would never see them again. I stood in the remains of their papers, their mugs, their water. It dripped around me. Everyone in the office stared at me like I was a ticking bomb. I knew I had their attention. I spun around and addressed them, a new sense of zeal braced on my lips. “Everyone. Get back to work,” I called harshly.

Everyone—even Jason at his corner desk—did what I said.

Perhaps my moral compass was about as skewed as the politicians I slept with, I thought to myself as I sat down at my desk once more, thoughts only of pulling through this battle, of coming out on top in my mind.

I wouldn’t let Xavier destroy me. I wouldn’t allow my emotions to overwhelm me. I was stronger than that.

Chapter Five

That afternoon, Jason and Xavier had arranged a meeting to discuss the campaign. I was invited, since I had arrived back to work. I marched ahead of Jason, toward the back conference room. I could hear him huffing behind me as I walked. “You were a prime bitch to those girls. The stress is getting to you, isn’t it? The stress of the photographs, of fucking the President of the United States? It’s all getting to be a bit much, isn’t it?” Jason whispered toward the back of my neck, making me shiver.

I cleared my throat, wanting to rear back toward him and slice his neck with my long fingernails. But we arrived at the conference room. I sat at the side of the table, knowing that the head seat would belong to the president. I sat across from Jason, glaring at him with heavy eyes. He averted his, not liking the eye contact. “Haven’t seen you around your apartment lately,” Jason murmured toward the floor.

I raised my eyebrow toward him. I knew he could sense my lack of passion toward this subject at this time. “What makes you think I care if you can see me at my apartment? It’s all yours. All of it.” I snapped my fingers up by my ear, and I could see him tremble at my strange mood.

But suddenly, Xavier marched into the room. I knew I needed to ignore him. He was the only person who could control me; he was the only person who made me feel anything, any amount of love in this world. I had to ignore him. I had to break away, to be myself.

“Good afternoon, team,” he stated. He cleared his throat and spun his eyes from Jason t

o me. “I heard we had two members of the campaign team quit today.”

Jason turned his eyes toward me. I remembered my temper, and my face turned red. I knew it was my turn to speak up. “Yes, sir. We were having trouble with them from the get-go,” I stated, speaking to somewhere behind the wall. “It was time for them to move on.”

Xavier nodded, turning his attention toward the books. I knew that he didn’t like it when I called him sir. He hated the way my cold voice stuck into him, making him feel like an alien. I knew this. Jason probably knew this, as well. Jason cleared his throat then, and Xavier turned toward him, anger boiling in his eyes. I swallowed, afraid suddenly. I realized that Xavier knew all about Jason—that I couldn’t pretend that Jason wasn’t a part of this overarching design any more. Would Xavier bring it up?

But no. He wouldn’t.

He sighed into his book, instead, and asked us the typical questions of our Friday afternoon meeting. He asked us about the progression of the campaign. He asked us what to expect in the following few months, when he was meant to be on the road. He asked us about our influence over the education bill; he asked us what we were telling the greater reporters, the people all over the country. He nodded primly over his pages, and he seemed so distant from me. I wanted to shake him. But I also understood I needed to keep my mouth closed. I needed to find a beautiful existence, even in this harsh reality.

Jason began speaking, then, and I thought about the girls I had pushed out of the political world. I had probably ruined what could have been flourishing political careers. But perhaps I had allowed them to escape true terror, the terror I was experiencing. Sure, I had made fun of the higher-up women in my time. But I had placed my nose to the ground, ready to claw my way to the top, no matter what. Perhaps I should have been heard. Perhaps I should have been kicked out of the political sphere.

Finally, Xavier placed his hand in the air, interrupting Jason. He shook his head and caught his thumb in his temple. He rubbed at it. “Jason. I hate to stop you. But I—I have this horrific tension headache.”

Jason brought his eyebrows in the air, allowing his round cheeks to stretch out. “You okay, Mr. President? I hope there’s no trouble at home?”

My heart sank to my stomach, knowing what Jason was referring to. But his eyes were so innocent, so bright in his head.

Xavier gave him a long, cool stare. He brought his hand away from his temple. And he spoke, his voice both collected and fueled with anger. “I think that will be enough for today,” he said again.

Jason shrugged his shoulders, a grin plastering itself across his face. He brought his folder into his arms, perhaps understanding that the president knew Jason had power over him—that he had found the very point to flick to take down the whole kingdom.

I stood up as well, ready to pummel home. I remembered that Rachel was going to make a special dinner that evening: something that would allow us to conk out early, ready to relax over the weekend. “You haven’t been sleeping,” she’d told me the previous day, her eyebrows furrowed.

Jason pounded from the office, his shirt becoming untucked with each long stride. He added a slight bounce to it as he got closer to his desk, as he grew sure in his safety. I followed after him slowly, feeling the weight of this next year’s campaign riding on my shoulders. How was I going to get through this, both with Jason’s assured riotousness and Xavier’s both steaming smile and sheer anger at what I hadn’t told him—at what I had hidden from him, just to protect him?

But as I walked from the office, I heard footsteps behind me. “Wait.” The voice was quiet, yet firm.

I spun back around to find Xavier before me, a look of earnest in his eyes. I brought my hands across my chest. “What is it?” I whispered. I was so conscious that Jason would exit the campaign office at any time, that he would see us talking here. We didn’t have much time.

“I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”

“And I told you I’d make time very soon,” I returned.

“The last time you said that, you disappeared for four days,” he whispered. His eyes skirted from left to right across the hallway. “Please. Hear me out. It’s all I ask.”