“Be careful what you wish for, Leo.”
He pokes me in the chest in return. “You’re the one who wanted to be POTUS.”
“Yeah, well, that’s exactly why I can say that.”
“But if I hadn’t hooked you up with Shae you might not have run. And we wouldn’t have Jordan.”
“I know.” I lean in and kiss him. “I owe you and him everything. Because of both of you, my dream’s come true, my deepest desire realized. I know yours will happen the morning after Ciro’s sworn in and you have the two of us all to yourself and I’m a private citizen again. Think of it this way—I’m able to make Jordan’s deepest desire a realitynow. He’s not complicated. Your Daddy side gives him just about everything he’s ever wanted and needed. My Mister President mode is the extra icing on top that completes things. Keep that in mind tonight when you’re perving on us.”
“Understood.”
I stand and set his laptop back in the wheelchair so he can reach it. “When Jordan asks about this conversation we tell him that we talked, I laid down the law, and you deferred to me. That’sit. Okay?”
“You don’t think he deserves to know the details?”
“Sure. After you tell me what’s missing from the Grace Martin story.”
As his jaw clamps shut I force myself to swallow my suspicions. If there wasn’t anything there it wouldn’t have had that effect on him, would it?
That’s when a horrible thought strikes me that I can’t believe I didn’t think of earlier. “Youdidn’t fuck her, did you?”
“Uh,no.” His reaction feels genuine. “I had very little contact with her. And no, Jordan didn’t fuck her or do anything with her except talk, I swear. And fine, you get to dictate how much Jordan knows about this conversation. I’ll defer to you. If he asks for details, I’ll spin him around and tell him to talk to you.”
I nod. “Okay, then.”
“I don’t understand why this particular point matters.”
“The illusion.” Once more, I hold my hands out, indicating the White House. “Commander in Chief. Leader of the free world.MisterPresident. I take what I want and need while he has no say in the matter. And neither do you. What I choose to take, whenever I want to, is Jordan. And he’s the only person who gets that part of me.”
“The morning after Inauguration Day I get both of youallto myself, my pet and my boy. For at least a couple of weeks.”
I smile, leaning in for one last kiss. “Deal.”
“Don’t need to ask Jordan’s input first?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll happily agree to that.”
* * *
Despite Jordan’sday going to shit it’s not a hectic schedule by usual West Wing standards. Not even close.
After lunch, Jordan’s moving between the Oval Office, the Secret Service office downstairs, and the residence to take care of Leo, even though the two of us each insist he needs to stay with the other. Despite Jordan’s ready acceptance of my total control, if this keeps up I suspect he might absolutely lose his shit and go totally Sir onbothof us by the end of the week.
That’d be interesting.I don’t think even Leo could stand up to the full, unchained fury of Jordan’s Sir mode.
My patience, however, is worn thin due to an unusual number of interruptions during my meeting with policy wonks about EU trade issues. I’d like to actually focus, but every time we get started we’re derailed and have to backtrack. This meeting is already dragging on too long and I can’t put it off. And the longer it runs overtime, the more behind it’ll put the rest of my afternoon’s schedule.
I’m sitting at my desk and trying to focus. Jordan’s quietly sitting in the chair next to my desk and working on his phone, while the policy wonks and their materials are spread out across both sofas.
When my desk phone buzzes yet again I stifle my irritation because this is something like the tenth interruption this hour.
I punch the intercom button a little harder than I intend to. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, Mister President,” Suzanne starts, “but I have Mr. Cruz on the phone and he says it’s urgent. Line three.”
Jordan’s head snaps up.
What the hell?Leo wouldn’t call me and say something like that unless it was a literal emergency. Even then he’d call for his detail first, not me.
