Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2)

by Lesli Richardson

  Yet, this is my life.

  No, I still haven’t contacted my parents, even though it’s very damned tempting.

  After the event, on the flight back, the president asks me to close the door to the office and she motions for me to take a seat in front of her desk.

  “Good job today, Jordan.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “This mean everything’s settled between the three of you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It is.”

  “So, when’s Leo marrying that man?” She wears a playful smirk. “Seems like this would be a great time to do that.”

  Ironically, she’s one of the few people I can fully trust to talk to, and I explain the basics of our current sitch to her.

  “Ah. Would you like my advice?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Talk Elliot into doing it anyway.” She grins. “You all deserve some happiness. I mean, since Kev says I’m not allowed to nuke your parents, or send the IRS after them.” She waves her hands in the air. “Blah, blah, bad optics. Blah, blah, nuking New York, bad. Phptph! Buzzkill.”

  It takes me a moment to process what she just said and I burst into laughter. “They’re not worth it, ma’am. Honestly.”

  She shrugs. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. But I do have another idea.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Can I please fuck with them? Just a phone call. Pleeease?”

  “Uh…” I honestly don’t know what to say.

  She grins. “Great!” Before I can stop her, she picks up the phone. “Signal, place a call to…” She looks at me. “Number?”

  Dumbfounded, I look up their home number and recite it and their names, and she gives the info to the operator.

  When the call connects, she puts it on speaker mode as it’s ringing.

  Then my mom answers.

  “Hello?”

  The Signal operator announces the call. “Hello, this is the White House Operator with a phone call from Air Force One. President ShaeLynn Samuels to speak with Alfred or Melissa Walsh.”

  Mom understandably sounds stunned. “Wh-what?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Walsh,” the president says, dropping me an evil wink. “This is President Samuels. How are you this evening?”

  “I-I…I’m fine. Is this real?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is. I’m sitting here with Jordan. I had to borrow him from Vice President Woodley today to be my personal assistant for a speaking engagement.”

  “You…what?”

  The president is full-on Joker grinning at this point, and I can’t help but join her. “Hi, Mom!” I brightly say. “How are you?” Soooo worth it to have this over her head.

  “Jordan? Where are you?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the president says. “I thought the operator made that clear. This is President ShaeLynn Samuels, and we’re aboard Air Force One right now. Flying back from an event. I’ve always meant to call you and your husband to tell you how invaluable Jordan has been to my administration in every position he’s held. First as our official designer, then working for my husband in the East Wing, and now as Vice President Woodley’s personal assistant.”

  “The vice president’s…personal assistant?”

  “Yes, didn’t you know? And he’s also instrumental in Elliot’s campaign for POTUS.” She pauses to let that sink in. “You did realize your son’s been working in the White House the past seven years, didn’t you?”

  “I… That is, we —”

  “I mean, I know you told your son the last time you ever saw him in person that you hoped he’d die rather than be gay, but I have to say, I’m really glad that his life’s path led him to our door. My husband and I, and our children, consider Jordan one of our best friends. Absolutely part of our family.”

  Tears sting my eyes and I quickly blink them away, because the president is looking me right in the eyes as she says that.

  This isn’t just a bullshit fuck-you to my mother—she really means it.

  You have no idea how much that means to me.

  “Mrs. Walsh, are you still there?” the president asks.

  “Y-yes, ma’am.”

  “Excellent. I also know that when Jordan’s initial security clearance was performed, you and your husband gave the FBI agent a bit of a hassle. As one mother to another, I have to say, I’m extremely disappointed in your behavior. We treasure your son in the White House, Mrs. Walsh. But your loss is our gain, and all of that.”

  My mom sounds close to tears. “Why are you calling me and saying all of this?”

  The president’s tone turns hard and cold, like I’ve heard her speak when dealing with a crisis. “Because your son is likely going to be the personal assistant to the next president of the United States. It would be a shame for you to try to tarnish your son’s reputation by speaking out against him to anyone. Why, we’d have to make sure all the news outlets learned how his grandmother rescued him from your mentally abusive household and took him in, wouldn’t we?”

  “What?”

  “Mrs. Walsh, I might be president, but I’m also an attorney, and a mother. Let me put you on notice that if you so much as breathe wrong to any journalist about your son, my husband and I will personally hire an attorney so Jordan can go after you both for defamation, and we’ll sue you for every penny we can wring from you.

  “If anyone ever asks you about Jordan, you simply tell them you’re proud of him, and you won’t say anything else out of respect for his privacy and yours. Then, you don’t have to say anything that might possibly contradict your precious religious bigotry, and no one ever needs to know the truth about him, which I’m sure you’ve been afraid others would learn. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  Holy.

  Shit.

  I’m certain my eyes must be wide as I stare at her. If she’s like this now, I can only imagine how vicious she was when she practiced law. In this moment, she also reminds me more than a little of Mimi.

  “Y-yes, President Samuels. Perfectly clear.” I’ve never heard my Mom sound so absolutely cowed before.

  The president’s voice brightens. “Excellent! Is your husband there, or will you pass the message to him for me?”

  “N-no, he’s not here. He’s still at work.”

  “You’ll make sure to tell him what I said?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Fantastic! Glad you’re a reasonable woman, Mrs. Walsh. And, once again, may I say how much we absolutely love and adore Jordan? You should be so proud of him.”

  Mom sounds really freaking quiet now. “Thank you, President Samuels.”

  “Jordan, did you want to say anything else?”

  I wish Leo and Elliot were here.

  But of course I don’t say that. “Nice talking to you, Mom.” Not really, but I’ll be polite.

  “Y-you, too, Jordan.”

  “Thanks for the chat, Mrs. Walsh. Good-bye.” The president hangs up and sits back in her chair. She looks pretty damned proud of herself. “You all right, Jordan?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her smile fades. “I meant every damned word, too. We do love you, we do feel you’re part of our family, and we are glad to have you here. Never forget that. You are loved, you are cherished, and you are family. You have family. We’re all your family.”

  She stands and as I’m sniffling and trying to stand, too, she rounds the desk and hugs me. “Don’t stop working on those two. They’ll get their shit together soon enough. You’re doing a fantastic job, and we’re all lucky to have you here.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  I excuse myself to the lav to pull myself together. I don’t even know how to tell this story to Elliot and Leo.

  By the time we’re wheels-down at Andrews, I’ve received a scheduling change request from Elliot’s campaign manager. They have ads they want to show Elliot tonight, and they need him at headquarters to film a few promos.

  Dammit. There goes my plan to go to Leo’s after get
ting Elliot home.

  This would be sooo much easier if Leo was married to Elliot.

  When we arrive at the White House, Elliot has a solution he’s standing firm on without having consulting me or Leo about it first. “I’ll have the detail detour and stop by Leo’s on our way to campaign headquarters. I already told them about the change, so it’s done.”

  “What? That’s a security nightmare!”

  He sadly smiles. “Not if I stay in the car and wait for you to run upstairs and check on him.”

  I study his eyes, to see how he’s really feeling. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” He firmly nods. “Yes, Sir.”

  So…that’s what happens. Needless to say, Leo never made it in to work today. Also, he’s a little surprised when I show up, and even more surprised when I tell him Elliot’s waiting downstairs.

  He kisses me. “Give him that for me, please, baby.”

  “I will, Sir.”

  “I’d come down and say hi, but I don’t want to push it. I’ll be okay for tomorrow, I think. She’s just at the White House.”

  “We’re flying out tomorrow night.”

  “I know, baby. Seattle’s a pretty city, too. I should be feeling better by the time you two return.” We’ll be gone for two days for trade meetings. Elliot’s leading the delegation.

  “Oh, I need to tell you this.” I relate what happened on the plane and he starts laughing.

  “She’s been threatening to call your parents. Glad she finally did it.”

  “She has, huh?”

  “Yep.” He glances at the time. “You need to go. It’s been nearly ten minutes. Traffic’s building up behind the motorcade, I’m sure.”

  I hate to leave him, but he doesn’t look like he’s in nearly as much pain as he was earlier this morning. Stalling, I kiss him again. “Do you want me to come back later, after we’re finished at campaign headquarters?”

  “No, baby. It’s cold, and I’ll be all right.” He gives me one last kiss and sends me out the door and back to Elliot.

  Once again, he’s left behind, and I hate that.

  After I’m back in the SUV and we’re underway, Elliot leans close. “How is he?”

  I smile and crook a finger at him, and I’m pleasantly surprised that he lets me kiss him. “That’s from him.”

  He smiles. “Thank you, Sir.” He sits back, and so do I.

  “You’re very welcome, boy.”

  Once we’re at campaign headquarters, I try to focus on the ads, but what I really want to do is dig into the lastest round of polling questions the bullpen team is working on.

  Except Elliot wants me to watch the ads with him.

  Doe Eyes, the guy I’m not super-fond of, gives us a quick update about their progress on the polling questions, an update which tells me zilch and leaves me with more questions than answers. Except with twenty-plus other things vying for Elliot’s attention, I don’t have time to follow up with them tonight. They’re working on a set of questions to send to the company conducting the polls, and I’ve already been promised that I’ll get to sign off on them before they’re sent.

  Elliot’s voice focuses me again. “Jordan, what do you think?”

  I drag my mind away from polling. “The ad’s fine. Boring, dull, but fine.” I address everyone. “It’s not going to hurt Elliot, but I’m reasonably sure it won’t help him. You’re hitting against Boone in particular, but he might not even be in the race come Iowa.” That’s in just over one hundred days. “I don’t think it’s wise to hit any particular GOP candidate yet. It might signal we sense a strength where we don’t. I’d rather our current ads focus on Elliot’s legislative record and the things he’s accomplished while in office as VP.”

  This is all obvious to me, and I’m more than a little unsettled that the guy in charge of creating the ads missed that basic point.

  Elliot nods. “Jordan’s right. Let’s stay positive, for now. We can hit hard once we know who the front-runners are after Iowa.”

  “Even then, I’d wait a little,” I tell them. “Closer to their convention.”

  I check my campaign e-mail to find that I’ve got the latest poll results waiting for me. I grab my campaign laptop and open it so I can download the data. This isn’t one of our in-house polls, but it’s a great gauge of where Elliot is seen amongst the huge GOP pack currently nipping at his heels when they aren’t snapping at each other’s necks.

  Unfortunately, as I try to study the data, it’s just not making sense to me. Between needing to pay attention for Elliot, and my brain preoccupied by thoughts of Leo alone in his apartment, my analytical brain is telling me all resources are currently at maximum capacity.

  I close my laptop and sit back to observe and listen. I’ll deal with the numbers later, once we’re home and in bed and I can sit there and study them without interruption.

  Elliot glances at me, double-takes, and frowns. He leans in and I lean over to meet him halfway. “Everything all right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, sorry. Just want to study those polls later, and I’m thinking about someone else.”

  “Ah.”

  I can tell Leo’s on his mind, too. Makes me want to shake some sense into the boy, but I know that’s not how to reach Elliot’s core and move him off his fear. Logic won’t work on him about this particular subject.

  Problem is, short of defying Leo and ordering Elliot to do it, I haven’t yet figured out an answer for it, either.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The next afternoon, while Elliot’s busy with briefings and phone calls at the White House and doesn’t really need me, I head to campaign headquarters before going to the residence to make sure everything’s packed ahead of our flight out tonight. If I hadn’t been so frazzled yesterday worrying about Leo, I could’ve focused and dealt with this then. I had time before bed to go over the data and made myself some notes.

  Now I want to see what they’ve put together in terms of polling questions.

  I make my way to the conference room, where I set up my laptop and plug it into the projector so I can have this conversation with the polling team.

  I don’t know most of the names of the people working in the polling bullpen, but I know they know who I am, and that’s what matters. Doe Eyes is there, too.

  I hold up my hand to get their attention and raise my voice a little. “I need everyone from Polling in the conference room right now, please.”

  “Why?” Doe Eyes asks. “What’s this about?”

  Can I say I don’t like the guy? Nothing I can put my finger on, except he’s younger than me, thinks he knows more than me, and I think he’s making eyes at Elliot.

  That right there pisses me off. Elliot’s my guy, even if I can’t publicly claim him. Hands off the candidate, though.

  Especially when you’re campaign staff.

  “We’re going to talk about the latest round of polling questions.” I channel Leo, feet shoulder-width apart, hands on my hips. “Bring what you have and meet me in the conference room. Now.”

  I pause only long enough I see them exchange confused glances before they finally head my way. I’m standing in the conference room and waiting for them when they file in.

  “Let’s get started. I want to go over the questions and sign off on them before they go out to Singh and Roscoe.” That’s the in-house polling company we’re using right now. I like them, and they’re good. Pricey, but worth it. They produce high-quality results that always closely mirror the final election results, and they don’t cut corners. President Samuels used them for both of her campaigns.

  I catch the little dick’s eye-roll. “Jordan, I appreciate your interest, but I think we have it under control.”

  “This isn’t just ‘interest,’ dude. This is serious. I need to see those questions before they’re sent out.” The longer he stalls, the more he’s pissing me off.

  I’m not fucking around. We’re coming up on Iowa and need to have our attack nailed down going into th
e final stretch. Elliot has to look like a steady and calm candidate, while the GOP candidates scurry around like someone just dropped gigantic turd smack in the middle of their anthill.

  Doe Eyes finally hands me a piece of paper with the questions printed on it…

  And it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to explode as I read them. “How long have you been working on these?” I guess the fact that my voice drops to barely a whisper when I speak freaks him out.

  “Um, three days,” Doe Eyes answers.

  I look at everyone in turn. The ten poll questions—which is actually way too long a poll to start with—are all negative questions about potential GOP opponents and designed to make people think bad things about those candidates. Things that are probably not even true, but have just enough basis in real-world rumors and innuendo that anyone being polled might give them serious thought.

  For example, one of the questions asks if an emerging office sexual scandal would negatively influence their opinion about a particular GOP candidate who just recently lost one of their deputy campaign managers amid rumors of sexual harassment.

  Worse? These questions are abosfuckinglutely useless in terms of real-world data. They don’t focus on Elliot, they don’t take the opportunity to swing voters to at least think about Elliot in a positive light as their candidate, and they’re toxic garbage.

  Fuck.

  Me.

  These are what are called push polling questions. They’re not designed to gather information as much as they are to…well, push voter opinion to the negative about a candidate, usually by smearing said candidate.

  Sort of like the old gag about the lawyer in the courtroom asking the witness on the stand, So, when did you stop beating your wife?

  Doesn’t matter if it’s false.

  The problem is, this is the same kind of cheap, underhanded, and frankly lazy tactics that the far-right GOP faction loves to use.

  It’s also a tactic that’s frowned upon, even by most of the mainstream GOP. It’s okay if you want to judiciously use it in a positive way, to help bolster your candidate, but that’s not how most people use them.