Page 80 of Power
No quicker than he closes the door, Jamie opens the one leading out to where he and Esther work. “Mr. President,” he announces when he enters my office. I take a second to compose myself before turning my attention to Jamie. “You have that dinner with Vice President Massey.”
“Thank you.” I stand and walk over to my chair, grab my suit jacket, and shrug into it. Jamie is already packing my laptop and papers into my briefcase. Jamie and I walk out into the foyer where Mark is already waiting for me.
I need to push Reece out of my mind. I signed up to be president, under constant scrutiny from the American public. Reece didn’t. And for that very reason, we can’t be together.
The loud banging wakes me from my sleep. I turn on the bedside lamp and sit up in bed. Looking at the clock, I have to blink several times for my eyes to adjust. It takes me a moment to focus on the time, and when the banging happens again, I know I wasn’t dreaming. “Yeah,” I call as I sit on the side of the bed and rub my hand over my eyes.
“Mr. President,” Liam announces as he opens the door to my room.
“What is it?” A quick scan of his body tells me he’s been home and changed because he’s wearing a new suit. “What happened?” I’m already on my feet and looking for suitable attire. I can’t exactly approach whatever’s happened in my boxer briefs.
Liam doesn’t speak, he hands me his tablet and taps it to life.
All the air leaves my body as I take a step backward and sit on the edge of the bed.
Fuck.
Reece
“Yeah?” I answer my phone in a groggy voice without even checking who’s calling.
“Reece,” I instantly recognize Bennett’s deep voice and open my eyes.
“Mr. President,” I reply, knowing we’re well and truly finished.
“Where’s Emily?” he asks, his voice dripping with worry.
“Why?” I jump out of bed and start pulling my jeans on. “Why, Bennett? What’s happened?” My skin pebbles with sheer terror as every possible worst-case scenario plays over and over in my head. “Bennett! What’s going on?” A lump of bile shoots to the back of my throat, and I’m about to lose it if...
“Turn on the news,” he says.
I run to the back room, find the remote and turn on the TV, keeping the volume low. I feel the blood draining from my body as I flick through news channel after news channel. All of them have the same breaking story. The words are blunt and callous with no remorse civility to them at all. The president and his whore. A picture of me is splattered across every single station I switch to. I sink to the floor, staring at the disgusting words flashing on the screen. “Oh...” My legs tremble as all the air leaves my lungs, completely winding me. “Emily,” I whisper as I hang up and frantically try to call her. No, wait, what am I doing? I shouldn’t call her. No, um. I need to go and get her; I can’t leave her at school. This is erupting and she’s going to be on the receiving end of so many things. She doesn’t know what I do. I feel like I’m about to throw up. I run into the bathroom, flip the lid and heave into the toilet. My stomach is tight as I keep dry-retching over and over again. Nothing but bile comes up.
With tears in my eyes, I run to the garage, but someone knocking on the front door startles me. I change direction and open the front door only to have the security guard from the gatehouse at the front of my gated community standing at the door. “Miss Maxwell, there are paparazzi at the gates asking for you.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper, entirely dumbfounded by how quickly these people found me. “Um.”
“Do you need help?”
“I don’t know,” I earnestly reply, holding my hair back from my forehead.
“I’ll wait out here in case you need me.” I look behind him and he smiles kindly. “We’ve got it covered. Don’t worry; they won’t get up here.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “Can you stay here for a few minutes.”
He nods and warmly says, “This isn’t my first rodeo, ma’am. If you need help, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. Closing the door, I try to think of what I need to do. I do the only thing I can, I call Tash. Her phone rings out, so I keep going until she finally answers.
“Why on earth are you calling me at stupid o’clock?”
“Tash,” I manage to say through my heavy tears and constricted voice.
“Reece, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is Emily okay?” worry drips from her voice. “Is it Emily?”
“They know,” I whisper.
“Who knows what? I’m on my way over.”
