Kev slowly swirls the liquor in his glass. “It’s humbling, isn’t it?”
I take another sip. “Between you and me? I’m scared shitless.”
There’s his sneaky smile. “Ah, good.”
I think I misheard him. “Good?”
“Sure. Whatever you do, don’t get cocky. If you weren’t at least a little terrified, I’d be having a talk with Leo to gut-check you so you could seek some perspective.”
“What if I fuck up?”
Kev grins. “Oh, youabsolutelywill fuck up. That’s okay, though. We’re human. The trick is to admit to Elliot when you fuck up. Never get so entrenched in a position that you can’t withdraw and regroup. Never forget your focus—helping Elliot function and do his job. Along with shielding him. Hehasto trust you. You being able to admit to him when you fuck up is vital. He’ll think you’re stronger for it.”
I tip my head back and study the ceiling. “How the hell am I supposed to do this?” If I stop to ponder the enormity of the situation, it’ll overwhelm me. Right now, I’m chipping away at every task in front of me before moving to the next, keeping my head down and trying not to stare at the bigger picture in the background.
“One day at a time. One crisis at a time. Your entire focus is Elliot. That’sallyou have to remember. When you feel like you can’t do this, look at your boy, think about why you love him, and do what’s best for him.”
“What’s best would be him growing a pair, coming out to his parents, and then he and Leo can get married and play house together.” It would certainly make aspects ofmyjob hella easier.
It would also mean ready access to Leo whenever I needed it formysake.
There’s that smirk again. “His dadiskind of a douchebag, and his sister’s a total bitch. But I didn’t say that.” His smile fades. “At least Elliot’s father isn’t a homicidal maniac like mine was.”
I wince—for my own reasons, not just his. “Sorry, man.”
He shrugs. “Not your fault. Not even my fault. Not really.” His gaze falls on his own glass, where he studies it for a moment. “That’s still something I struggle with. The sins of the father and all that bullshit. Only in my old man’s case, they’reliteralsins.”
His sigh’s filled with heavy, too-fresh grief. “Lauren didn’t deserve what happened to her. None of those people did. It was my father’s fucking narcissism and fragile ego. Toxic masculinity on steroids.”
I shiver. “Never thought I’d be glad my parents disowned me.” They would prefer I slither away, I’m sure. Or, better, die, so they can grieve and not have to make up stories for their friends.
Shifting in his chair and leaning to the side a little, Kev takes another sip of his drink. “There are countless times I wish I’d come out to him and Mom in college, took Chris up on his offer to move in with him, and never looked back. But since I’m still here, right now, and Lauren’s still dead, that means time machines haven’t been invented in my lifetime.” His smile looks painfully sad. “Because if they had, I might be in jail right now for killing my old man before he could bring about the murders of several innocent people.”
I didn’t think the conversation could get any heavier than the topic of being the personal assistant, confidant, and owner of the president of the United States.
Guess I flubbed that one.
Gee, if this is any preview of my upcoming track record, I’m totally screwed.
But Kev wistfully smiles. “Enjoy these years as much as you can.”
“Enjoy? I’m not sure that means what you think it means.”
“You have a captive audience, for a while.” He grins. “He might be the leader of the free world, but he’ll follow you to hell and back. Plus, you now have an excuse to stay away from certain things and people, and have the ability to keep them away from him, too, even more than before.
“He’s got one of the most public jobs in the world, but he also has unparalleled security and secrecy. You’ll be living with him. That means your boy can begin every morning on his knees in front of you, and you can recenter him and start his day right.”
I savor my next sip of whisky. My palate is pretty good, but not nearly as refined as Leo’s. I taste hints of honey and raisins, maybe. It feels warm and satiny sliding down my throat.
Kev’s left eyebrow arches, a look I’ve seen him give aides or even Shae. “Never lie to him.Ever. Even if the truth is painful. He needs to know thatyouare his safe refuge, the one person above anyone else who he can completely trust. Heneedsthat. He needs to know you’ll always speak truth to power.” He snorts. “We’ve seen what happens when POTUS is surrounded by nothing but sniveling yes-men. Merry Impeachmas, y’all.”
We both laugh, even though I’ve already blown that mandate out of the water. “That was one of my conditions for me accepting this job in the first place.” Kev doesn’t need to know the exact order of my acceptance and statement of my terms. “That I will not be a yes-man.”
“Excellent.” We sit in silence for a moment, enjoying our drinks, before he speaks again. “He’s going to be a great president,” he softly says. “Because he’s got you and Leo in his corner. But there are guidelines you need to know to help him.
“You’ll put him back together every night. Sometimes, multiple times during the day. For the next eight years, the worst tragedy cannotfaze you in front of him. Focus onhim.Always. Doesn’t matter if the world is falling apart around you, he needs to seeyoucalm and collected, withyourshit together, with you focused on him, so he doesn’t fall apart. Keep him going. Lose your shit later, in silence in the bathroom, or while he’s busy during his PDB every morning—whatever time you carve out while he’s occupied—butneverin front of him.Ever. Do.Not. Break.”
I study him for a moment. “What do you do?”
