I’m…
Look, when I walked away from Leo, I walked away from the love of my life. I honestly wasn’t sure how I’d ever fall in love again. I knew I’d be comparing every guy to Leo. I wasgrieving.
Except what I’m feeling for Elliot is far more than responsibility, or friendship, or even good old-fashioned lust.
I’m falling in love with him.
Correction—I’vefallenin love with him.
Hard.
Leo and I fell hard for each other. Elliot and Leo fell hard for each other.
But this is serious and can literally have global repercussions. I can’t fuck it up.
I’d prefer to have me and Elliot sorted out before Leo and I have our “conversation.” Elliot and I haven’t even discussed what we feel for each other yet beyond saying it to each other.
That needs to happen, too.
I won’t go back on my promise to Elliot.
There’ssome irony for you. Leo might have faltered, but he wouldn’t walk away from Elliot because of the promise he made Elliot. Here I went and made a similar promise to Elliot. We’re both orbiting Elliot now, instead of me being a satellite to Leo.
I damn sure don’t want to have this discussion here, on White House grounds.
Add to that, I want to make sure I’m emotionally stable when I have my conversation with Leo. I need to be in control of myself, and I know enough to avoid the situation, for now.
Otherwise, Leo will be able to steamroll me—including ordering me to quit, if he feels like it—and I can’t do that.
Elliot needs me. We’ve built a rapport.
Fuck, it’s what Leo wanted from the start, right? So that’s what we’re doing.
Maybe not in the way Leo intended for it to happen, but bitches in hell want cold water, too.
They’re not the only thirsty ones.
* * * *
I’ve spent most of the morning successfully avoiding Leo when Kev summons me to his office and has me close the door.
“Yes, sir?”
No, I don’t miss the irony, here. Trust me.
He rounds his desk and motions for me to follow him through the other door, which leads to a smaller office his deputy usually occupies. That man’s out for the rest of the day.
Kev points at one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Park yourself there, please. Do not move, do not speak. Not until I come back for you. I want you to listen.”
“To what?”
The intercom buzzes on his phone in his office. “You’ll see.” He pulls the door mostly shut, but I realize whoever he’s about to bring into his office won’t be able to see me from where I’m sitting.
“Yes,” he says to his phone.
“Leo’s here to see you,” his administrative assistant announces over the intercom.
“Thanks. Send him in.”
