THE PRESIDENT'S GIRLFRIEND

by Monroe, Mallory

  He collapsed into her arms, his breathing heavy and hard. His phone never rang unless it was urgent.

  “We need to meet,” Max said.

  “Involving?”

  “Miss Regina Lansing.”

  Dutch paused. “I’ll be there,” he said, and hung up the phone.

  He laid back down beside Gina, pulled her into his arms. “Here we go,” he said, somehow feeling the onslaught was just beginning.

  In the west sitting room of the residence, Max and Allison stood to their feet as Dutch, in a silk red robe, and Gina, in a pair of jeans and a jersey, came into the room. Max glanced at Allison when he realized Gina was with Dutch, but he didn’t bother to argue the point. This meeting was, after all, all about her.

  “Good morning,” Dutch said as he and Gina walked toward the sofa. “Have a seat. Allison, you’ve met Gina, haven’t you?”

  “No, sir, I don’t think I have,” Allison said. “Hello Gina. It is okay for me to call you Gina?”

  “Yes, please,” Gina said.

  “Allison’s my press secretary, babe,” Dutch said as he and Gina sat on the sofa.

  Gina and Allison shared a smile. Everybody in America, if they followed DC politics even a little bit, knew Allison Shearer. She was on cable news, as the president’s mouthpiece, almost every day.

  “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Max said, knowing full well, from the breathless way the president answered the phone call, that he had been pounding the mess out of that young lady.

  “What’s this about?” Dutch asked, a flash of Gina’s black body arching up to his white body dancing across his mind. He leaned back and crossed his legs. Gina continued to sit on the edge.

  “I had a meeting with Bob Munford this morning,” Max said.

  “And?”

  “And I just want to know how you plan to handle the arrest.”

  Dutch frowned. “What arrest?”

  Max looked at Gina. “What?” she asked Max. When he continued to stare at her, she thought again. And then shook her head. “I don’t have a record, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t ask if you had a record,” Max said. “I asked if you were ever arrested.”

  Gina was lost. She had to think hard. When it hit, it still confused her. “But that was nothing,” she said and Dutch looked at her.

  Allison sighed in frustration. “So it’s true?” she asked Gina.

  “It was nothing,” Gina said again.

  “What was it?” Dutch asked.

  Gina turned toward him. “I was in college, if that’s what they’re talking about. And we were protesting one of the professors who gutted many legal aid programs for the poor back when he was a politician, before he became a professor. Things got out of hand--”

  “Property was destroyed,” Max added.

  “And the cops arrested a handful of us, that’s true. But the charges were dropped like right away. We cleaned up the little property damage. It was nothing.”

  Max looked at Allison.

  “What is it?” Dutch asked him.

  Max leaned forward. “You were protesting with the USJ party, correct?”

  “Yes,” Gina said, still not understanding why that would be a big deal.

  “And what, Gina, does USJ stand for?”

  “It was the United Social Justice party, or something like that.”

  “United Socialists for Justice Party, to be exact,” Max corrected her.

  “What’s the difference? It’s a social justice party.”

  “It’s a socialists for social justice party. That’s the difference!” Max’s anger was rising. Dutch stared at Gina. “Were you a member, Regina?” he asked her.

  Gina looked at him. She actually had to think about it. “I certainly attended some meetings. And yeah, I think I was a member.”

  As soon as she confirmed that she was a member of a socialists group, Max dropped his head in disgust, shaking it. Allison ran her hand through her long, blonde hair and tossed it behind her, murmuring “terrific,” as she did. And Dutch, to Gina’s dismay, seemed to be riddled with concern.

  “What?” Gina asked him. “It was just for a year, I didn’t even renew my membership. I know this because it was dues-based and if you didn’t pay your dues you were dropped as a member. What’s the big deal?”

  The look of concern on Dutch’s face made her think harder. The USJ party. United Socialists for Social Justice party. Socialists. As in not capitalists. As in un-American. Gina’s heart dropped.

  “Oh, Dutch,” she said. “But it wasn’t about politics for me.”

  “Then why the hell did you have to join a political group if it wasn’t political?” Max asked this angrily and Dutch didn’t admonish him. Which meant, to Gina, that he agreed with his chief of staff.

  “I joined for that one time because it was a social justice party,” she said. “Because they believed in helping their neighbors, in doing all they could for their fellow man. Because I never had any intentions of being a politician and therefore never had to worry about how it would look. Because they believed in social justice!”

  “So you’re a socialist?” Max asked her.

  “No, I’m not a socialist! I was just. . .” She turned to Dutch, to get him to understand. “I wasn’t thinking of it as a political party. They helped the poor get good legal help. And I would volunteer to help out. That’s why we were protesting that professor. When he was a politician he always would propose bills that would gut all kinds of legal aid for the poor. But that was over fifteen years ago. I was an idealistic kid. I just liked what they stood for at the time.” She stared at Dutch. “Your opponents can’t use that against you, can they?”

  “They can and they will,” Max said.

  Dutch placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll handle it.”

  “Is there anything else we need to know?” Allison asked her.

  “What do you mean anything else? I didn’t think it was going to be this.”

  “This is Washington, lady,” Max started but Dutch interrupted him.

  “Okay, Max, that’s enough. You’re upset, we’re all upset, but you will not talk to her that way, understand me?”

  Max nodded. “Understood, sir.”

  “She doesn’t exist inside the beltway,” Dutch continued. “Normal people with normal lives doesn’t think that what they did fifteen years ago, especially something of so little consequence, would matter now.”

  “They would think so if they were sleeping with the head of the beltway.” Max said this and then seemed to regret it instantly. He exhaled.

  “I apologize for that, Miss Lansing.”

  Gina ignored him.

  “Is there anything else you can think of, Gina?” Allison asked her. “Anything else we need to know?”

  “Forget whether we need to know it or not,” Max said. “Is there any other little nothing incident in your past that we need to be aware of?”

  “No.”

  “Think, Gina,” Max said. “The worst thing that can happen is for this story to get legs by drips and drabs.”

  “It won’t gain any traction. There’s nothing more to it.”

  “No other arrests?” Max asked her.

  Gina looked at him. “Didn’t I say no? No,” she said again.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Max said. “You should have told the president about USJ. Now he’s got to clean up your mess.”

  “He doesn’t have to clean up anything of mine,” Gina said forcefully. She was getting tired of Max’s arrogance. “Now if his opponents want to paint me as some flaming socialist just because I joined a social justice group, then I don’t see where reasoning with people like that would matter.”

  “I agree,” Dutch said. Gina looked at him. “It’s all right,” he said, attempting to smile.

  “Dutch, can we--” Max asked, motioning for him to get rid of Gina.

  “Yes,” Dutch said to Max and then looked at Gina. “Ma
x and Allison and I need to talk. Why don’t you go shower and dress so you won’t miss your plane.”

  “I didn’t even remember that incident, Dutch, I didn’t--”

  “I know,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Just don’t worry about that now.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Allison looked at Max. Max shook his head.

  When Gina left the room, Dutch ran his hand through his hair, tousling it. “Damn,” he said.

  “Damn is right,” Max said, standing and walking around the room. “This is going to be blown all out of proportion, Dutch, and you know it.”

  “I just don’t want her hurt,” Dutch said and both of his assistants looked at him.

  “Well then you should not have invited her into your life,” Max admonished.

  “She’s certainly different than your usual fare,” Allison said. “Maybe the fact that she is different, that she’s not some rich belle, might work in our favor.”

  “Oh, Allison leave it out!” Max yelled, rejecting that notion out of hand. “You know how these people are. They won’t show her any mercy, and I mean none! The fact that she isn’t some rich belle will probably work against her even more. Remember who critics are. They’re the same people who come from the same walk of life she comes from. And because their lives haven’t turned out the way they had hoped, they will dump on her, criticize everything about her. They will be terrified that her life just might turn out better than theirs. It’s like crabs in a pot, is what it is. They see her trying to crawl out, they’ll try their level best to snatch her back in with them.”

  Allison stared at Dutch. “Your relationship with this one,” Allison asked him, “is it serious? Is she Miss Right, or Miss Right Now?”

  Dutch exhaled. Hesitated. “Yes, it’s serious,” he said. And how, he wanted to say.

  “But why her, Dutch?” Max asked. “You want a black woman, fine, have a black woman, I don’t care. The country doesn’t care. But let her be a Condi Rice for crying out loud. Not some gotdamn Cleopatra Jones!”

  Dutch ran his hand through his hair again, tousling it again.

  TWELVE

  News of the arrest broke overnight on most of the cable news stations, and Gina, who had a tendency to oversleep whenever she felt stressed, woke up late on Tuesday morning to the sound of knocks on the bedroom door. She nearly fell out of bed reaching for her cell phone and then, realizing that it was actually a door knock and not a phone ring, leaned back down.

  “Come in,” she said. She had decided to stay at LaLa’s house for the night, to avoid any reporters who might be sniffing around hers.

  When LaLa walked in, she smiled. “I hate to disturb you, Tore, but I don’t think you planned to sleep this late.”

  Gina ran her hand through her braids. “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Nearly ten.”

  “Dang.” Then she looked at LaLa. “Why aren’t you at the office?”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone to get into idon’tknowwhat.”

  Gina actually smiled. “Any rumblings on the airwaves?” she asked her.

  LaLa took the remote and turned on the small, flat screen TV in the room. From CNN to MSNBC there were comments. From conservatives blaming the president, to progressives blaming Gina. It was all a blame game.

  “It’s like you robbed a bank fifteen years ago the way they’re carrying on.”

  “Turn it off,” Gina said, and LaLa obeyed. Then sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Heard from the president?” LaLa asked.

  Gina shook her head. “That protest march didn’t even enter my mind once, La. I had forgotten all about it. They make it sound like there was a crime committed and then I was arrested, but it wasn’t like that. We were taken down as a group for disturbing the peace in a protest march that got out of hand. And what’s crazy the charges were dropped that same day and we were let go. It was nothing.”

  “You know it, girl, and I know it’s nothing. But DC has nothing else to do and to them this is major news. Your life will be an open book.” Then LaLa paused. “How did the president take it?”

  “Bad. He just seemed so taken aback, you know? Like why didn’t I tell him, I don’t know. And that Max Brennan.”

  “He’s an asshole, isn’t he?”

  “It’s just that he wasn’t so concerned about the arrest as the fact that I was once a card-carrying member of USJ.”

  A private line cell phone Dutch had given to Gina began to ring. Understanding what that meant, Gina quickly grabbed it.

  “It’s a mess,” LaLa was saying. “New phone?” she asked, looking at the phone.

  “So it seems,” Gina said and answered the phone. “Hi,” she said.

  It was Dutch. “How are you this morning?”

  “Still reeling,” she admitted. “You?”

  “I’m okay. But I think you need to come here, let your trusted business partner run the day to day business affairs and you come and stay here as my guest for a while.”

  “But won’t the press go nuts about that, too? They may claim we’re shacking up in the White House.”

  Dutch laughed. “Then just come for the weekend. How’s that?”

  “That’ll work.”

  “All right good. I have to scram, but I want you to stop worrying, all right? Don’t watch the news. Do your work, get it done, and then I’ll see you Friday.”

  “Okay, Dutch. See you Friday.”

  There was a pause. Then he said goodbye and hung up. Gina held her phone a moment longer, and then shut it off, too.

  +++

  They sat quietly at the dining room table, upstairs at the White House residence. Gina could already see a change in Dutch, even though he seemed pleased to see her earlier. But now, she could see the strain.

  “I never thought a decision I made over fifteen years ago could be so interesting to anyone today.” She said this with a smile.

  “That’s how it works in Washington.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “Of course it is,” he said, and then looked at her. “But it’s politics too.”

  She didn’t like the way he had looked at her, as if he was trying to make some point. “I know it’s politics,” she said.

  “No,” Dutch said, “I don’t think you do know.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Dutch sat his fork down on his plate of half-eaten food. “I told you, Regina, that this was a fishbowl.”

  “I know that.”

  “I told you they were going to be brutal. But instead of thinking hard and making sure that there are no skeletons in any closets, you behave as if we’re talking about grown-ups here. There are no grown-ups in Washington, just a pack of blood-thirsty wolves who’ll do whatever it takes to bring my presidency down.”

  Gina stared at him. “You make it sound like I was concealing that information from you. You make it sound like I knew about it, but just decided not to tell you about it.”

  Dutch leaned back. “That’s not what I mean at all. I know you didn’t remember it. Hell, I wouldn’t have remembered something like that if I was in your shoes. But this is new to me, Gina.”

  Gina frowned. “What’s new to you?”

  “Having the woman I love castigated on national television, night after night, over something so trivial it makes me want to resign right now!” Dutch stood from the table and began to pace the room.

  Gina stood too, and went to him. He pulled her into his arms. Then she smiled. Looked up to him. “So I’m the woman you love, hun?” she said.

  He smiled. “Somehow I knew that little line would be the main point to you.”

  Gina laughed. “It’s not every day the president confesses his love for a girl.”

  Dutch’s look turned serious, somber. “It’s not every day the president falls in love.” Dutch rubbed her hair, which was now straight and down her back. “I love you, Regina,” he said.

  Gina’s breath c
aught. “I love you, too, Walter.”

  Dutch pinched her behind.

  “Ouch!” she said.

  “Call me Walter again and that spanking I promised you will soon come to past.”