The President's Boyfriend

by Mallory Monroe

  “Did he call yet?” Kay asked as she grabbed the stack of mail.

  “Not yet,” said the receptionist. “We both dodged a bullet. I just got here myself. We’ve got to do better.”

  “I know, girl,” Kay said. “Believe me, I know. This CP Time shit is going to be the death of all of us one of these days.”

  The receptionist laughed. “What happened?”

  “My car decided to act up this morning.”

  “That pretty Camaro?”

  “Pretty on the outside only,” Kay said. “Trust.” Then she began heading for her office in the back of the building, thumbing through the mail as she walked.

  A staffer walked up beside her and kept pace with her. “How much overtime are we allowed to pay the venue workers?”

  “None,” said Kay as she continued to walk and thumb through her mail. “No overtime. The Senator has spoken. He wants us on a shoestring budget this election cycle until the big money boys loosen their purse strings. Which they haven’t done yet.”

  “They won’t like it. They really wanted that overtime.”

  “Tell their supervisor to come to me if they give her any trouble. But overtime is out.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the staffer said, and was about to leave.

  But then Kay thought of something. “Hey?” she asked.

  The staffer turned around. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “How’s your mother?”

  The staffer exhaled. “Not good. They’re operating in the morning.”

  Kay frowned. “Then why are you here?”

  “She’s in Kansas.”

  “And?”

  The staffer was shocked. “You mean I can go?”

  Kay smiled. “Yes, you can go.”

  “But Senator Drake is just launching his reelection bid.”

  “And after your mother has a successful outcome, you will come back and help us with the launch.” Then Kay frowned again. “Family always first. Don’t you dare let politics cause you to forget that.”

  The staffer was overcome with emotion. And she couldn’t help it. She hugged Kay. “Thanks, Kay!” she declared, and hurried to make the arrangements.

  Kay smiled. Family. Having people you cared about, and who cared about you. That was what mattered to Kay. But then she remembered she was late, and had a meeting across town in less than an hour. She made haste to her office door, with Chief of Staff written above it. As she unlocked her office, Roger Pettway, the senator’s campaign manager, came out of his office. “You’re late,” he said.

  “Car trouble,” she said, and entered her office.

  Rog walked in behind her. “You and that car. You should just give it to me.”

  Kay laughed. “Yeah, right.” Then she walked behind her desk and looked at him.

  “Senator Drake says we need to coordinate strategy,” Rog said.

  “Which includes?” Kay asked.

  “Which staffers will remain in Chicago to work on his reelection campaign, and which staffers will go back to D. C. to run his office at the Capitol.”

  Kay reached into her suit jacket pocket and handed him a list.

  “What’s this?”

  “The names of the staffers who are going back to D.C. to handle his legislative agenda, and those who will be staying here, in Chicago, with us.”

  Rog smiled. “When in the world did you have time to compile this?”

  “Last night,” said Kay. “Very late last night.”

  Rog shook her head. “You need a man, Kay.”

  She laughed. “You make me sound like some old maid already.”

  “You are old.”

  “I’m twenty-eight. That’s not old.”

  “It is for a cat.”

  “I’m not a cat. Guess what?” she said, and then sipped from her coffee.

  “What?” he asked her.

  “Congressman Holmes is not going to seek reelection.”

  Rog was surprised. “Why not? He’s a cinch to win.”

  “Who knows why? Who cares why? But you know what this means, right?”

  Rog didn’t. “What does it mean?” he asked her.

  “Close the door.”

  Rog went and closed the door. Then he walked back up to the desk.

  “It means his seat will be open,” Kay said. “It means I can finally detach myself from Eddie Drake and run for that seat myself, Rog.”

  Rog was stunned. “You?”

  “Yes, me!”

  “I didn’t know you were interested in seeking office.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now.”

  “You didn’t share those thoughts with me.”

  “Only with myself and the Lord. But I’ve been thinking seriously about it.”

  “But don’t you think it’s too soon, Kay.”

  “Why is it too soon? Because I’m a woman?”

  “Because you’re only twenty-eight years old.”

  “You just said that was old!”

  “In cat years. Not human years!”

  “The constitution says any US citizen who reaches the age of twenty-five can become a member of the United States House of Representatives. And Lord knows I have the credentials. I’ve been in politics since high school. I’ve worked on Capitol Hill since college.”

  “But you can’t think about running for office right now,” Rog said. “Not when Senator Drake’s in the middle of his own campaign.”

  “That’s the down side, yes. But I’ve got to look at this intelligently, Rog. Every district in this state is filled with Congressmen and women who have no intentions of giving up their seats in the foreseeable future. They’ll die in those seats. This chance may not come around again. I have to think about that.”

  “But what about Eddie right now?”

  “What about him?” Kay asked. “He doesn’t give a damn about anybody but himself anyway. We both know that. I’ve been working for him since I left college, and I’m proud of the work we’ve done for the people. But he’s never going to agree to letting me do my own thing.” Then Kay got firm. “And I’m not waiting for his permission.”

  “Yeah, but he’s the only African-American we have in the Senate right now, and we’ve got to make certain he gets reelected. Besides, at least he’s giving us high level positions no other senator would give to us.”

  “What do you mean us?” Kay asked. “We’re the only two African-Americans on his entire staff. The only two.”

  “And the two highest ranking members of his staff,” said Rog. “Don’t forget that.”

  “But still!”

  “But still what?”

  “This opportunity might not come around again, Rog.”

  Rog stared at her. He knew she was ambitious, but damn. “Why aren’t you on his side?” he asked her. “I thought you were on his side, Kay.”

  “I am on his side! He does a lot of good for the poor, but let’s face it. If those poor people didn’t have votes to give to him, if they didn’t control his chances of remaining in the Senate, he wouldn’t give them the time of day. And how many times do we have to remind him who his constituents are?”

  “He does a lot of good without being reminded too,” Rog said. “Give the man some credit now.”

  “Okay, yes, he does help the community out. He does that. But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “But I’ll do better.”

  Rog lifted his head in the air. “I don’t need this aggravation right now, Kay. We’ll just starting his reelection campaign. We can’t abandon him now!”

  “I understand that. But understand this, Roger Pettway: My values and ethics line up far better with yours than Eddie Drake’s ever will. He’s a good politician, yes, he is. And it’s a fact he’s going places. But he’s a rotten father, a rotten husband, and a rotten man. The only reason we’re still working for him is what you said yourself. No other senator was willing to give people of color high ranking positions. But that’s the only reason we’re
still with him. Let’s finally face those facts too.”

  Rog knew it to be true. He’d known it for years. “But here’s another fact for you: If you run and lose, you’re out. Because we’re both saying the same thing. Not one of those white senators are going to hire a black woman to even be on their staffs, let alone as their chief of staff. Nor a black man as their campaign manager for that matter. We both know that Eddie Drake is the only game in town if we ever hope to advance in the higher echelons of politics. He’s it. You’ll be taking an awful risk.”

  Kay nodded. “I know,” she said, holding her coffee with both hands as if the very idea of stepping out on her own was chilling. “That’s why I haven’t made up my mind yet. But if I do decide to run, Rog, I want you by my side. You know that.”

  “I know that,” Rog said. “That’s why I don’t want you to run. If I have to choose between Eddie Drake and you, you know I’m choosing you.”

  Kay smiled. “Thanks.”

  “When will you decide?”

  “My sources say it’ll be another two or three months before Congressman Holmes announces his retirement. So I have time to think about it myself.”

  “You know what people are going to say?”

  “I know,” said Kay.

  “They’re going to label you a bitch and too ambitious for your own good. That’s what they say about women with high goals.”

  “Oh, they say more than that,” Kay said. “They’ll also say I’m betraying Eddie Drake if I go run for office myself. As if my future has to revolve around his. But I can’t do that. I can’t make this about Eddie,” Kay said. “This has to be about what I want to do with my career. He didn’t consult me ever when he decided to run for the Senate. He didn’t give a damn what I thought when he was a Congressman and I was working for him then. He ran for that open Senate seat because the timing was right. I don’t know if it’s right for me now, but I do know this chance may never come around again. And I can’t let some man make that decision for me. Especially one like Eddie who truly doesn’t give a damn about me other than the fact that I’m efficient and knows how to supervise a staff. I’m not even letting you make that decision for me, and you’re my best friend. It’ll be my decision and mine alone.”

  Rog nodded. “You’re your own woman, Kay,” he said. “That’s what I admire about you. But please, baby, please let me know well in advance when you do make up your mind. Please?”

  Kay smiled. “You’ll be the first to know,” she said honestly. “Now get out of my office so I can get some work done.”

  Rog smiled. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and began heading for the door.

  “Oh, and Rog,” she said, and he glanced back at her. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

  Rog stopped walking. “What’s tonight?”

  “Eddie’s having a meet and greet with his constituents tonight. Remember?”

  “Oh that! But, no, I won’t be there. My wife’s parents are coming in from Detroit. I have to meet their plane.”

  “Boy quit lying,” Kay said. “You just hate meet and greets.”

  Rog laughed. “You better believe it,” he said, and left her office.

  Kay smiled and shook her head. But then she thought about that soon-to-be vacant seat in Congress again. A seat that if she ran a perfect campaign could be hers to lose. But timing was everything. And Senator Drake was running for reelection and she was his chief of staff. And she knew what they all were going to say. They were going to say it was unseemly for her to put her ambition ahead of his. They were going to say she should work for the Senator and forget about her own career. They were going to say it was not her time.

  But who the hell are they, Kay also asked herself.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nico sat in the back of the room, his legs folded, his coat collar still turned up around his neck as if he could feel that cold Chicago wind even indoors, and he watched her work. The line of constituents was long, nearly around the block, and her boss, the nice young Senator, was shaking hands and kissing babies in a meet and greet that was better attended than they appeared to have expected. And the staff, which he presumed included her, didn’t have their act together.

  Not that Nico gave a damn. He didn’t. He was there, not to meet and greet some Senator, but to turn over photographs that showed said Senator in various compromising positions with various naked ladies. Photographs the Senator desperately wanted out of circulation. Especially before the election. Especially before his wife had any idea that said photographs existed.

  That was why he called on Nico. That was why they all called on Nico. They knew, like the Senator knew, that Nico Bacard would not only collect the offending photographs, but would insure whoever owned those photos would do no future harm to an up and comer with major political ambitions. And that was always the deal with Nico: the future. Senator Drake, according to all the pundits and prognosticators alike, was a young man going places. Maybe all the way to the White House someday. That was why Nico never accepted a dime for his efforts. Not one red cent. Because if Nico ever needed to call in a favor whenever the Feds were riding him, as they sometimes were, he’d have copies of those photos of the beloved Senator, hid away, as his bargaining chip.

  That was the only reason why Nico was in that storefront campaign headquarters building waiting for his client to finish shaking hands and kissing babies, and watching, mainly because she was the only interesting member of the staff to watch, one of the Senator’s aides.

  “Mr. Bacard?”

  Nico was surprised. He had been so busy looking at that one aide that he didn’t realize another aide had walked over to him. She was, in fact, standing right at his chair. Not his style at all to be that inattentive. “Yes?”

  “Hi,” she said with the world’s grandest smile. Tall, blonde, who thought she was cute. “I’m Mindy. Senator Drake’s personal assistant? He wanted me to let you know he will be with you shortly, sir.”

  Personal assistant his ass, Nico thought. Personal whore was more like it. He knew her type a mile away. “Thank you,” he said to her.

  He even caught her glancing down at the package between his legs, as if she wasn’t just the Senator’s whore, but a whore who slept around. “Would you care for something to drink or . . .” She glanced down at his package again. And then back up to his face. “Or something else?”

  “No thank you,” Nico said. The one thing he liked less than a married man who slept around was the female who eagerly accommodated him.

  But she was a pro, just like her boss/fuck partner. She plastered that fake smile back on her face again. “Alrighty then,” she said, jerking her long blonde weave behind her back. “Call me if you need anything.” And then she turned to leave.

  But Nico grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her progression. She turned around, surprised and, if he was reading her eyes right, hopeful. “Yes?”

  “Who’s that lady?” Nico asked her, nodding his head toward the one staffer that caught his eye when he first entered the room.

  He was right. The hope quickly faded from her eyes. And she frowned. “What lady?”

  “That lady,” Nico said. “The black one.”

  Mindy still made a dramatic show of looking around, which was ridiculous since that particular staffer was the only black person in the entire room. “Oh,” she said, after her little show. “That’s nobody.”

  “Oh, yeah? Does nobody have a name? A title?”

  Mindy exhaled as if he was suddenly bothering her. “Kay Laine is her name. She’s the Senator’s chief of staff.”

  “Oh, really?” She would refer to the Chief of Staff, which meant her boss, as nobody? She was worse than Nico had pegged her. “Thank you.”

  Mindy gave him a disapproving look, as if she couldn’t understand why he would be interested in Kay Laine, but not interested in her. After all, the Senator picked her, over all the beautiful women working in his campaign, to be his one and only. She left Nico’s side and we
nt back over to the Senator’s side, where she felt safer.

  And Nico turned his attention, once again, to the one woman that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of. And now he had a name behind that face. Kay Laine.

  Not that she was that interesting to watch. In an odd way, there was something refreshing about her because she wasn’t trying to make herself appear interesting or fascinating or, in Mindy’s case, more than what she was. She was just a hard worker. That was what caught his attention right off. That was why he was surprised she was the boss. While all of the other ten or so aides were moving around the room, seemingly trying to do as little as possible, she was out front, with clipboard and cell phone in hand, working her ass off. She was the one, not her underlings, that was keeping the line moving, and making sure no constituent hogged up too much of the Senator’s time. It was a job, he would have thought, that would have been more suited for a woman of Mindy’s rank rather than the chief of staff’s rank.

  But Kay Laine was doing it all. She was a force, that was for sure. But she was exhausted as well. Nico saw that too. He saw it because every time there was a lull in the action and she wasn’t being called by one aide or another aide to answer this question that somebody in the line had, or to break up an argument between staff members, or to remove a rag off of a countertop that should have been removed already, or to place critical documents inside a desk that should not have been left on top of the desk to begin with, she’d lean against the wall and try to catch a break. She was leaning now. And Nico was staring unblinkingly at her.

  She wasn’t super tall, but she was around five-feet-six if he had to venture a guess. And she wasn’t supermodel thin like the rest of the staff, either, but had herself some nicely packed curves to add that voluptuous element to her frame, which he liked. And her boobs: big. Which he also liked. He’d put her age right around the late twenties, although the bags under her eyes from working herself to the bone made her look older. And her dress style wasn’t remarkable either. She wore the standard issue heels and dark blue skirt suit that all political operatives seemed required to wear, and her hair, that dropped down just below her neck, was in a thick ponytail that now, eight at night, was messy as hell. She was a beautiful, desirable woman and didn’t seem to know it. That, perhaps, was what interested him in her the most. She was nobody’s whore.