Normally, my administrative assistant would be the one to pass calls to me, or to Jordan, but I made my AA take the day off today to spend it with her family. Jordan is, of course, upstairs with Leo.
“Put her through,” I say before I can think about it too long and hard.
I’m not in a mood for Stella’s bullshit and would rather deal with her while my balls are tough enough to handle her.
I hear the clicks on the line as the call’s connected and the switchboard operator hangs up.
“Hello?” I say.
Stella wastes no time and automatically launches into a tirade. “Well, I fucking hope you’re happy that I was absolutely mortified today in front of everyone.”
Leaning back in my chair I close my eyes. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Stella.”
“Fuck you, Elliot. Why didn’t you have us over to the White House today?”
“Uh, youwereinvited. If your staff failed to schedule things you need to take it up with them, not me.”
“You know fucking well what I mean!”
“Knock it off. You and I both know you wanted me to call and beg you to come over.” Maybe she’s taping me but I honestly don’t give a shit anymore. “I invited you, and then you decided to act like a spoiled brat and tried to talk Mom and Dad into going to Florida instead. Then, when you realized none of us are playing your bullshit power games any longer, you pitched a tantrum and tried to manipulate me into begging you after you cancelled your visit multiple times. So here’s the bottom line, Stella—I love you but I’m done catering to your overinflated ego. We all are.”
She gasps. “How dare—”
“No, how dareyou.” My eyes pop open and I let my anger boil over. “You tried to use our parents as a literal pawn in you and Ellis’ bullshit games. Yank your head out of your ass. If your ego is so fragile you need me to come crawling to you and beg you to grace me with your presence then you really need to get some professional help. I have a country to run and millions of people depending on me. I don’t have spare time to waste coddling your ego or your husband’s delusions of grandeur. In the future, you will get invitations. However, I am instructing my staff not to waste time negotiating with you about how you’ll decide to accept those invitations. Either you accept or decline them, and that’sit. No back-and-forth up until the last minute.Do you understand me?”
I don’t realize I’m nearly shouting until the very end of my tirade.
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“Do. You. Understand. Me?” I roar.
Finally, in a small voice that sounds nothing like my sister, I hear, “Yes.”
“Yes,what?” I scream. “Because I’m fucking sick and tired of you treating me like shit. You want to run with the big dogs and pretend you have a set of balls? Well then, you’d better start respecting the biggest dog of all with not only the biggest set of fucking balls but the baddest bite, too. So what.Do. You. Fucking.Sayto me, Stella? Yes,what?”
She must not be on speakerphone or in front of Ellis—or recording this—because her chastised tone sounds both alien and bears a genuine, fragile edge I struggle not to apologize for triggering.
“Yes, Mister President.”
“Fuckin’ A, I am!” I take a deep breath and rein in my volume but not my blue-hot rage. “Iamrunning for re-election, Stella,” I tell her. “If you don’t want me spending a lot of time in Ellis’ district helping his Democratic challenger stomp him into the dirt in two years, then you’d best play fucking ball with me because I amdoneletting you dangle your sisterly love in front of me like some sort of goddamned prize. My chief of staffbeggedme to let her unleash PR hell on you and Ellis just ahead of Christmas over your stupid bullshit but I told her no because I didn’t want Mom and Dad getting upset.”
That’s a little bit of a fib but I know Casey-Marie will back me up if I ever ask her to. “In the future, I’m leaving her and the rest of my staff with standing orders that you and Ellis get no special treatment. You are no longer off-limits in terms of deep background interviews with the media. I will let them crushbothof you at their whim if you piss them off. I’m certain once word ofthatmakes it to staffers on the Hill, they’ll gladly join everyone else leaking any speck of dirt you or Ellis have needing exposure.
“I love you but I am absolutely fuckingdonewith you, Stella. I hate saying that about my little sister but this was the last straw. Everyone knows you and Ellis only got married for the political clout, and the timing of your wedding was more than a little sus. Either you start acting like my sister or I will start treating you like the political enemy you are bound and determined to turn yourself into. It’s your choice.”
I’m wondering if she actually hung up when I hear a little sniffle. “I love you, too,” she quietly says. “I-I’m sorry.”
I ignore what I’m guessing is her attempt to once again manipulate me and my emotions, because in the past I would have defaulted to trying to soothe her. “Then fuckingactlike it. You’d damned well better call Mom and Dad later tonight and apologize to them, too. I don’t give a shit if you blame everything on Ellis, oryourstaff, or whatever, but I’d better hear from them that their daughter sounded appropriately and believably apologetic during that phone call and under no circumstances do you blame this on me or my staff. Do I make myself perfectly fucking clear?”
Another sniffle. “Yeah.”
“Excellent. Merry goddamned Christmas, Happy fucking New Year, and good-bye.” I slam the receiver onto the phone’s base and stare at it for a moment.
Maybe I should have invoked POTUS mode with her way back when I was still only VPOTUS.
Maybe it’s my fault I believed I ever had a chance to enjoy a genuine, loving, and reciprocal relationship with her in the first place.
Maybe hoping she’d want to be my sister because she’s my sister was always a futile dream.
