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 to 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.”
But I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I wanted this all to pass over us like a bad storm. I wanted the winds to die down. I wanted Jason to lose interest in the entire operation. I wanted this universe—this universe in which Xavier and I had loved each other—to close and leave us in peace. I opened my mouth and hissed toward him: “This conversation will have to wait.” I wanted to be a professional once more. I knew that the first moment he erupted with any “love” stuff, I would lose my cool. I would falter, fall away. Perhaps someday, when all this fell away and we were just two normal people, alone somewhere in the world, we could discuss what had occurred between us. But not there in the White House.
Never again.
But he reached toward me. He grabbed me at my elbow. Not hard. Just hard enough, though, to make me rear back, as if I’d been shocked. His eyes were dark, at this moment. He evoked such seriousness. In that moment, I understood why the people respected him enough to name him as their leader. I swallowed, feeling pain coursing up and down my arm.
“This is serious, Amanda,” he stated then. “I need to discuss the campaign with you. As you can see, the campaign is faltering. You’ve fired two people today and Jason is a goddamned nervous wreck.”
The words turned over in my stomach, making my eyes grow wide.
“I must speak with you at once. Alone, and in my office. Now.”
He took his fingers away from my vein once more. I shook out my arm, feeling the blood pulse into my arm once more. I felt his shadow pass beyond me, toward his office. I turned and followed him, hanging my head like a dog. His feet were so fast, sweeping into the room. I nodded toward the agent on the way in, acknowledging my defeat. I knew, in so many ways, that this was the end of me. I had to be alone with this man. Everything would unravel at once.
Everything would cease.
He closed the door behind us. The sound was oddly muffled. He brought his arm out, gesturing forth to allow me to move into the room further. I was trapped. I sat at the first couch, feeling the cushion breathe beneath me. I folded my hands in my lap. I blinked toward him, and he paced back and forth, his eyebrows folding over his eyes. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he turned toward me. His eyes blinked ravenously. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and he sighed.
“Listen, Amanda. I owe you an apology.”
I swallowed, knowing that I was about to fall apart. My voice quivered. “I thought this was about business,” I murmured. I looked toward my hands.
He took a step forward. “In a way, this is about business. It’s about you and I getting along in order to produce the best result.”
I continued to look toward my hands.
“But I don’t care about the best result anymore. I don’t,” Xavier whispered, finally falling into a whisper, a voice filled with passion. “I just. I want to tell you that I made a terrible, horrible mistake, as far as we are concerned.”
“There is no ‘we,’ Xavier,” I began.
But he talked over me, drowning me out. “When you told me about that slimy snake, Jason, I surely thought that I would kill him. I was in such shock. I felt that—that my career was in jeopardy. Can you understand that?”
I didn’t say anything. I still didn’t look toward him. I maneuvered my fingers through themselves, lacing them up tight.
“I never meant anything I said about you. I didn’t mean anything I said about—about you not being qualified for the position, certainly. You’re very qualified. You’re meant to be here, on your own merits.”
Something inside of me—perhaps a sense of anger—had begun to grow, to flourish in that moment. I frowned, bringing my fingers tighter and tighter together. I wanted him to skip to the business portion of this meeting; I wanted to resort back to what I was meant to be doing. I felt the tears growing hot in the back of my eyes, drizzling to the surface. I had cared about him with my entire being. But he couldn’t just take those words back. My heartbeat began to pulsate in my face, in my hands.
“Amanda. Did you hear me? You’re incredibly qualified, one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.” He swallowed, stupidly. “I was in shock. But the only thing I really want—after several days of not seeing you, after several days of finally realizing the carelessness of my words—is you. All I want is you, Amanda.”
The air hung around us: so dry, so archaic. I wanted to rush out of there immediately. I wanted to fall away from this relationship, to pretend like nothing had ever happened between us. I blinked up at him suddenly. “Is that all?”
Xavier shrugged his shoulders slowly. His eyes grew sallow, sad. I could see his shoulder bones beneath his suit.
I finally pulled my fingers apart in the midst of the silence. I wiped the new sweat over my fine business dress suit. “All right. I’m prepared to hear the business side of things, now,” I stated. My eyes drew up toward his, and I knew they were dark, filled with judgment.
But his voice quaked then. He brought his hand before him, pointing toward me. “What do you—“
“The business element of this conversation,” I stated, gesturing. “You said to come in here to speak with you about business. And so I came. Please. Proceed.”
“Did you even hear everything I just said?” Xavier murmured. His eyes were quizzical. I could see a single bead of sweat sweep down his face.
“I did,” I retorted. “And I don’t see how it’s relevant. Please. Proceed.” I nodded emphatically, knowing that my words were ripping through him. I couldn’t care.
Finally, Xavier smacked his hands on his legs. “Fuck, Amanda. I didn’t have anything else. I just—I just said I wanted to see you professionally so that I could see you privately. I wanted to say my piece. Can’t you understand that?”
But I stood, quaking. I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “So. You told me you had something incredibly important—and work-related to talk about—and then you bring me in here to talk about something privately. Something that should be kept out of the confines of this office.” I felt my voice growing hot. “And you still expect me to believe that you honestly hired me just because you thought I was professionally appropriate for the job? You lie about everything, Xavier. You lie about fucking everything, and I can’t hack it anymore. You’re no better than anyone else. You’re a cheater, and you’re a liar. I didn’t earn this position. That much is clear to me now.” Every word I spoke seemed like an emphatic bite into the air, taking a strand of life from the president’s shoulders. He bent lower and lower.
But I continued. “You’re even worse than Jason,” I growled. “Jason is taking advantage of me, sure. But he’s doing it cruelly, outwardly, with that gross sneer on his face. You, Mr. President. You’re taking advantage of me in very, very different and personal ways. You’re hacking into the very essence of my soul and expecting me to fall all over you, to give you all of myself.” I shook my head. Xavier had opened his mouth, ready to retort, to argue back. But I wouldn’t allow him. “You don’t keep to your word. You’re angry with me; you kick me out of bed; and then you come stumbling back, searching for my body because your wife doesn’t give you what you need.” I sniffed, stomping my heel on the carpet. I started pounding toward the door.
Xavier reached his hand out toward me, trying to grab my arm once more. But I reared back, hissing through clenched teeth. “If you touch me, I’ll scream.”
“But—“
“No. Xavier. No.” I righted myself, feeling the passion and power fueling from Xavier’s eyes. I wanted to toss water on it, to give myself the time to breathe. This was my moment. I tried to imagine my life before me: I tried to comprehend if this political scene was really where I belonged. I shook my head, knowing what I needed to do. I felt my stomach flip over as I began the sentence. “I’ll be leaving the campaign team until further notice.” The words came out in a stream of near-laughter. I almost didn’t believe them myself.
“What?” Xavier asked, taking another step forward. But I held out my hand, warning him not to come closer.
I reached toward the Oval Office door—the camouflage that snuck out toward you in the wallpaper. I ran my eyes around the room, knowing this would be my last time. I searched Xavier’s face for a moment, as well, finding only pain, only suffering.
As I turned the handle, Xavier spoke once more. His voice was resigned, if hesitant. “Amanda. I urge you to take a few days to think about this before making a final decision.” He tucked his hands in his pocket and looked at me like an old schoolboy crush. My heart did a flip-flop.
But I turned back, not willing to answer. I swallowed and prepared myself for a new life, a new line. I walked into the hallway, willing only to grab my purse from my desk and scurry from the shell of this terrorizing White House. I heard the Oval Office door slam behind me as I walked quickly, noting that the entire West Wing was empty, void of the many milling workers of the usual day-to-day. The office was still cluttered. I found the young campaign girls’ coffee mug shards on the ground. I picked one up and felt my finger begin to bleed. The blood dripped onto my fine business dress suit. The stain spread a bit as I walked quickly, out toward the hall and into the cool night air.
October was coming. I would dismiss myself from the political world. I would find a new line of work. Perhaps I could find someone to love—someone who loved me the way I was meant to be loved. Perhaps I could find happiness.
I shivered in the taxi on the way home, wishing for this strange feeling to pass. I knew everything took time. And time, in this new, unemployed future, was all I really had.