Mr. President 1(44)

The result?



By the end of the town hall meeting, phone lines were jammed at the offices of Bob Walker and emails were pouring in supporting the President.



“Gain with Bain!” an admirer chanted when asked what about the President she found so compelling. “He’s fucking hot. But he understands the problems of working class Americans who are struggling to keep from falling behind. He’s trying to help us and everyone else is trying to take him down!”



The sentiment was echoed throughout the nation. In a random sample survey conducted by Washington Beat in partnership with the New York Daily Journal, over 80% of Americans indicated that they approved of the job performance of the President. A further 78% of Americans indicated that they believed that Ms. Draper would make a good First Lady.



A whopping 67% of Americans believed that she had the right temperament and demeanor to help the President overcome challenges he may have had.



And finally, 95% of Americans believe that the President is much better off with Ms. Draper than without her. Fun fact though that the poll also measured. Roughly 72% of all female respondents wished that they could switch places with Ashley Draper and be the President’s fiancée.



Well, that 72% of female Americans (and quite a few men too, I’ll wager) also includes me. And while I am disappointed that I won’t be able to run my tongue down the Presidential abs any time soon after meeting him at a bar and having him take me to the back room where he would take me to paradise three or four times with those 12 inches that Washington rumors say he’s got swinging between his legs…



Oh my, well, that went a bit off track, I suppose. Nevertheless, I think we are going to have a very fine White House with a very amazing First Family if the last several weeks are any indication.



It’s going to be an amazing rest of term. I’m looking forward to it!





24





Ashley





“You’re the queen of the ballroom,” Austin whispers into my ear as we waltz through the room arm-in-arm. I look up at him and smile, a warm feeling making my heart beat softly.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” I whisper back at him teasingly, my smile widening as another senator lines up to greet us.

Austin’s Town Hall performance was a show for the ages, something akin to Jimmy Hendrix at Woodstock, and everyone seems to have decided to turn this fundraising dinner into a celebratory gala of sorts. Of course, luck would have it that the place would be packed with all the usual DC suspects. But what was I expecting? You don’t go to the Ritz to mingle with your everyday American. And, although I’m not interested in impressing all this supposed elite, that’s the reason I’m now wearing an expensive deep blue Carolina Herrera gown. I might not want to impress anyone tonight, but I have to do it; it’s part of being Austin’s fiancée.#p#分页标题#e#

“Congratulations, Mr. President,” another senator says, shaking Austin’s hand heartily and then turning to shake mine. It’s been like this for the past 20 minutes, since we strolled inside the room that an army of senators, aides, pundits and what have you, have lined up to congratulate Austin on his terrific performance at the Town Hall. Judging by the way some of these senators are speaking, you’d say that the Presidential elections are just going to be a formality, one to open the way into four more years of Austin as President.

More than just a great success for Austin, the Town Hall was a kick in the balls for Walker. Austin wiped the floor with Walker’s reputation and, after his little stunt of giving Walker’s phone number to the audience, I’ve heard that all of his staff has been buried under all the calls they’re receiving. The media should change Austin’s nickname from President Player to President Prankster.

Giving Austin a moment of privacy with one of the senators, I step to the side and accept a flute of champagne from one of the passing waiters. I lean slightly against one of the walls at the end of the ballroom, watching him from a distance.

I can hardly believe that, just a few weeks ago, I felt nothing but disdain toward Austin. And now look at me, feeling proud of my man. And, yeah, I said my man. I can’t say exactly when I started developing feelings for Austin, but it happened. At first I thought it was just lust and desire, a physical craving that somehow was making me feel all confused, but I quickly realized that it was more than just that.

And now, looking at him in his perfect tuxedo, his strong posture dominating the room, I can’t help but feel proud that I’m his fiancée. I know… I’m just a fake fiancée but, somehow, this feels real. Taking a deep breath, I try to push all these feelings to the back of my mind, after all, I have a job to do.