12. Charlotte

Charlotte

The first clue came as they left the conference, those reporters not allowed inside screaming their questions.

“Ms Bailey, Ms Bailey?” a strident voice called, and stupidly, she turned to look, camera flashes exploding in front of her as photographers went into a frenzy. “How far along is your pregnancy with the president’s secret lovechild, and is it actually twins like the rumors suggest?”

Stupid, stupid woman. That was David’s voice again. The bastard was determined to ruin her, and she didn’t understand why.

“David,” she replied, feigning a calm she didn’t feel. “You were just thrown out of the press conference for asking ridiculous questions like that. If you can’t act like a real reporter, then you need to rethink your career.”

“When is the baby, or babies due?” asked someone else.

“For goodness sake,” Charlotte exclaimed, struggling to hold onto her composure. “There is no baby, there is no relationship, there’s only David’s deranged obsession with shipping me to whoever I am currently working with. Now, Sean over there is my driver. Should I be warning him that he’s next on the ship list? David’s already accused me of having an affair with Grace Diaz, never mind that the two of us are straight. He’s repeatedly said that neither Grace nor I could have achieved our positions without sleeping our way there, and now he’s staring up a whole new clickbait parade because I’ve changed roles. I’m going to take legal advice about getting a restraining order, that’s how bizarre this is becoming.”

“Did you have a miscarriage?” a third person asked.

“Are you people stupid? Or just not listening. There is no baby, there was no baby, there will be no baby.”

“Is it you or the president who has fertility issues?” the same person pressed.

Charlotte shook her head. “This is why you weren’t allowed into the press conference. You’re not real reporters. You’re not even listening to what I’m saying, just grabbing your soundbites in order to twist everything that I’m saying. My relationship with the president is a purely, working professional one. That’s it, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Then why did the president meet with you privately, before introducing you to the cabinet?” David asked.

Okay, now that was a real question, and one she had to answer.

“The president had to convey confidential information necessary for me to make a judgement call on whether I would be willing to act as Grace’s pro tem. It was not information the cabinet was aware of, and it was not something they needed to know. He told me what he needed, and I made my decision. That was all there was to it.”

“But afterwards he carried you in his arms when you arrived in the conference room with other witnesses,” David persisted.

The rest of the press had fallen silent, keen on hearing her answer. She could even see some of the larger networks now recording in the background. This was a disaster! They were totally off the topic, and the important message Charlotte needed everyone to walk away with, was being cast aside for some fabricated gossip. Despite that, she desperately wanted to know who his source was, because they knew enough to get some facts right, just the whole picture.

“When we rose to return to the room, I fainted,” Charlotte said simply. “It had been a highly stressful day, and I clearly had not had enough protein in my breakfast. He carried me into the other room where I was given something to eat and drink, and then the president briefed us on the horrific incident of the night before.”

“Did you faint because of the pregnancy?” someone asked into the silence.

Shutters hammered away at her last nerve.

“I’m not fucking pregnant, because I haven’t had sex in over a year!” Charlotte shouted in reply, regretting it instantly. “Can we please talk about things that actually matter, rather than David’s conspiracy theories and cheap attempts to smear my reputation. Two children died needlessly today. Why can’t we focus on making a world where that doesn’t happen again?”

David didn’t need to try for a shit quote anymore, she’d just given them all a fantastic one. How did Grace do it? How did she bluster and bumble through all of this noise, and come out squeaky clean on the other side?

Oh yeah, it was because she had Charlotte to clean up after her. It was definitely something she couldn't ask Fitz to do. She wasn’t sure the poor man would cope getting in front of a camera, nevermind the intrusive and insensitive way the press dealt with things.

Rather than wait for the next inane question, Charlotte strode quickly down the carpet and into the car, only relaxing once Sean had closed the door.

The president was watching her warily. “Are you alright?” he finally asked.

“No,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “No, I’m not alright at all. I just fucked up big time, bigger than Grace ever did, and I’ve no idea how to walk it back. Everything we might have possibly achieved there, has now been forgotten. All they’re going to focus on now, is the potential drama that David fucking started to get back at me. Fuck I hate that man!”

“Why do you even let him have any of your attention?”

“Because he’s like a two-year-old. He just escalates and escalates until he gets what he wants. We found the quickest way to get rid of him was to answer his questions, make him look stupid, and then move on.”

“I think it’s a bit more than that, don’t you? His dislike for you seemed very personal to me.”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know him. Have someone look into it if you're really worried. I’m going to get Fitz to look into a restraining order next week, this is ridiculous. What we need to focus on is where he’s getting his information from. Some of those questions were too well informed.”

“Indeed, although I think I have an answer for that already, and you’re not going to like it.”

There was nothing he could tell her that would make her day any worse.

Then he opened his mouth and proved that thought wrong.

“I was watching through the car window, it’s glazed, so they can’t see in, but I could very clearly see who was in that crowd. The second voice to start asking stupid questions belonged to a face we both know.”

“Bonny,” she said, already putting the pieces together.

“Bonny,” he agreed.

“Well, she can kiss that rotating internship goodbye, and any sort of reference. I’m assuming she signed a non-disclosure agreement when she started working there?”

“She did, but there’s a clause about being a whistle-blower that I’m going to have the legal team look over. We need to ensure any loopholes are closed before we hang her out to dry.”

“Why am I surrounded by stupid people with no sense of loyalty?” Charlotte groaned.

“I assume you’re not including me in that statement,” the president said drolly.

Fuck! She needed to get a grip on herself, before she crossed a line she couldn’t recover from.

“Yes, sir,” she said meekly. “I’m sorry sir.”

“I assume Fitz is also exempt,” he teased. “I like the name change, who suggested it? You or him?”

“I did,” Charlotte replied. “I don’t know what he’s been through, Zeke hinted at some bullying, but he flinched every time someone used it. He denied it, of course, so I used it in every other sentence until I’d made my point. Fitz suits him better than Gerald — the other half of his surname — because that was the only other option I could come up with on the fly. My brain was otherwise occupied.”

“Zeke was the guard who dealt with Bonny, right?”

“Yes, sir. Him and another man. He sent the other man to the medical centre with Bonny, and Zeke himself accompanied me to the conference room.”

The president nodded, pulling out his phone. “Good afternoon, Joyce. I have a lovely little mess for you— Yes, another one— Oh, you saw that too, well good, because that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t know if the cameras caught it, but the second person to ask those inane questions was none other than Bonny Kelsing, an intern that Ms Bailey had the misfortune to encounter already— Yes, that one, the lioness in medical this morning. Good, I’m glad you’re up to speed. I want her security clearance revoked, put her on a black ban list for all future government positions, and get legal to look into whether she was acting as a whistle blower, which I doubt, but let’s get the bases covered. I don’t want her using that excuse when she’s prosecuted for whatever it is they come up with. Breach of confidentiality, breach of contract, professional misconduct, I don’t care. Get that woman locked up, and ensure she has a psych assessment, because that was no ordinary reaction.”

Charlotte stared, shocked that he would act so quickly in her defence. Her heart began to beat a little faster. Combined with the way he had treated her, and some of the heated looks she’d caught, she was beginning to wonder if the president actually felt something for her that wasn’t entirely professional. Which made her wonder, why did she care?

“Yes, exactly. If she was willing to leak those tiny details, who knows how far she would go given the right incentive. That’s my real concern there,” he paused, listening to the woman on the other end but Charlotte didn’t even try to listen, too busy wallowing in her guilt.

Of course he wasn’t acting in her interest, the woman was a security risk, and that would always trump Charlotte's feelings. Besides, she wasn’t interested, despite the steady thrum of attraction her owl kept pushing onto her.

So, why did it hurt so much that he didn’t care? Her owl clacked its beak in annoyance, but she couldn’t tell what had agitated it. Was it the fact that he didn’t care? Or her morose response?

“I don’t know, I’ll ask her,” the president said, holding the phone away from his face and turning to look at her. “Did you remember seeing her in the room when I carried you in? Because it should have only been members of cabinet.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Which means we have a second leak.”

Rather than agreeing, he paused. “Or, loose lips that were overheard by the wrong individual. They’re a bunch of gossips in here, when it doesn’t involve state secrets. I can just imagine one person or another mooning over how romantic it was, or someone commenting on their shock that the president would stoop so low as to carry an aide across the room, rather than calling for someone else to attend to you.”

Okay, she could see that too. “Would that also explain how she knew you’d had a private meeting with me beforehand?”

That took him longer to respond to. “It’s plausible, I guess. If it were all part of the same conversation. Commenting on how I dragged you off to your private study, and then carried you out of there completely depleted. I could see them wondering what had happened in the room out of sight.”

Of all the fucking stupid things to trip them up, his theory was fairly plausible.

“We shouldn’t let our guard down though, just because it’s plausible doesn’t make it true,” Charlotte warned him.

“Agreed.” He put the phone back to his face again. “You heard all that? Good. Keep an eye and an ear on things. It’s too late now to roll it back, but the spotlight is well and truly on us now with this crisis. We can’t afford a scandal distracting us from the agenda.”

Shame made her face turn crimson. Instead of handling the matter as she should — although the tabloids were going to focus on that anyway — she’d only added her own drama to the rumours. No sex in over a year? What had she been thinking?

The president finished his call, and turned to face her. “It was a mistake, Charlotte. We all make them. What matters more is how you move forward from it.”

Of course he could scent her change in emotion. That only made things worse, however, he was right. Being embarrassed and hiding from it wouldn’t fix anything, so she mentally pulled on her big girl panties and got her head back in the game.

“How do you want to handle it? Ignore the idiocy, or address whatever comes our way?”

Tawny eyes watched her carefully as he licked his lips, his gaze roaming over her face, searching for something.

“There was a lot to process this morning,” he finally replied. “I think we should wait and see what surfaces. The larger outlets might do a puff piece, a “how embarrassing” kind of thing. Expect a few snide comments on how you shouldn’t swipe left so often.”

Charlotte snorted. “As if I have time for that kind of nonsense. Give me a spicy book and a vibrator any day, less complicated and less messy.”

It was the shocked silence that made her realise she’d said that aloud, and to the president of the shifters no less. What was wrong with her? Hesitantly she looked up from where she’d been muttering to herself, to try and gauge his reaction. Yet instead of finding horror, incredulity, or even worse, pity, Charlotte found something else altogether.

Heat.

The president’s eyes were now a burnished gold, his hair lightening and thickening as it grew, and his pupils? They were blown wide with the lust she could scent coming from him, and the presence of his lion, whose own pupils were much larger than a human’s.

“I don’t know,” he purred. “I think making a mess is the best part of it.”

The implication he’d like to make a mess of her was there, and her owl practically chittered in excitement.

Mine, she stated, in no uncertain terms.

Her bird rarely talked to her, their bond not as close as some shifters were with their other halves, but she had certainly been much more communicative of late. Especially around the president.

Was that ache in her chest what she was starting to think it was? Was the president her fucking fated mate?

No, he couldn’t be. Her life could not possibly become more complicated right now. It was the stress, that was all. Her mildly chaotic world under Grace, had become a full blown maelstrom. She was just being buffeted by the winds of fate right now. They would get over the first stages of grief and anger as a community, and then things would settle as they all put their shoulders to the grindstone and started pushing harder for change.

Children were dying, they needed to focus on that, not on her dismal love life. Priorities! She had to get them straight.