“Ihatethis, Ma’am. He looks horrible.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Tomorrow night should bring changes.”
Ihope. I don’t have a Plan B if this one doesn’t work.
Late that afternoon, I head to George’s office to prep him for tonight. I don’t close the door behind me when I walk in with my laptop, the final copy of his speech open and ready for me to print.
He’s sitting there, glasses off and on his desk, his chair turned. He’s staring out the window and looking…lost.
He wore a look much like this during his early days in office, when he was still trying to process Ellen was gone and he was now the governor.
Both me and Declan carried him during those days, because he could barely function. There were days he basically signed or vetoed whatever I put in front of him without even reading it. He just went with whatever I told him to do. It simultaneously humbled and terrified me, that he had that level of trust in me.
Yes, I upheld that trust. It was not a time to play games, because we were all hurting, and work, and knowing George needed me, was the only thing keepingmeable to function.
“Governor Forrester? Are you ready to discuss tonight?”
He doesn’t turn from the window. “Sure. Whatever.”
I hope I haven’t applied too much pressure. As long as he doesn’t do something infinitely stupid between now and tomorrow, I can stay with him all day tomorrow until we have our talk.
By then, he should be ready to listen and, hopefully, agree to anything.
There will always be a wall between us of my own construction, unless or until I can come completely clean to him.
Thatcannothappen yet, though.
Meanwhile, I need a stopgap measure to help my own wounded soul make a temporary peace with this situation so that George and Declan can be happy again.
I pretend everything’s professionally copacetic and sink into one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “Do you have the copy of the speech I e-mailed you, Governor?”
He finally turns his chair around, puts on his glasses, and pulls up the file.
We’re halfway through it when he sits back and removes his glasses again, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. “It’s fine, Case. It’s fine. Go with that draft. Finalize it.”
“We haven’t finished reviewing the last round of edits, sir.”
“Why isn’t Declan doing this with me?”
I deliberately hesitate, like I don’t want to answer him. “I’m your chief of staff, sir.”
He glares at me. “Declan writes my speeches.Whereis he?”
“I told him I’d handle this, Governor.”
He drops his glasses on his desk, stands, stalks around the end of his desk, crosses the office, and sticks his head out the door. “Hold all calls and visitors, Dana.”
Without waiting for an answer, he practically slams the door shut and locks it before stalking back to me.
He jams his hands in his pockets as he looms over me. He’s not wearing his blazer, and he’s rolled his sleeves up. “Whereis he? Healwaysdoes speech prep with me.Whyisn’thehere?”
I stay cool and look up at him. “I told you, Governor Forrester—I’m handling it today. He’ll be coming with me tonight to the event.”
“I thought you said he was riding with me?”
I drop my tone into Ice Queen gear. “And you told me no, soItoldyouwe’ll meet. You. There. Is this a problem?”
He stares at me for a long moment. “Why can’t you justtalkto me?”
