Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(28)

I hold my breath for a few seconds, and then I let the air out of my  lungs fast, exhaling sharply. Screw this; I don't have to put up with  this bullshit.

God, I was doing fine before they came up to me and dragged me into this  mess. Here I am, trying to help him and he's treating me as if I'm some  stupid intern whose mistake caused all this. No, I'm not going to allow  him to treat me like this.

Standing up fast, I take the ring off of my finger and throw it against  him. Austin doesn't move as the ring bounces from his chest and falls on  the floor at his feet.

"It was your stupid dick that put you in this mess," I hiss, offering  him a cold stare of my own. "Maybe your dick can think of a way out."  Snapping my heels together, I turn around to leave.

Grabbing at the handle, I open the door and, before leaving, I look at Austin over my shoulder.

"Check the Oval Office for bugs. My office is as clean as a whistle; I  made sure of it. If I were Walker, that's how I would've done it."

Without giving him enough time to think of a reply, I slam the door behind me.

I should've never gotten involved in this whole charade.





27





Austin





I watch as she slides the ring off of her slender finger, and throws it  at me. Even though it's a completely unexpected act-I mean, I couldn't  have guessed that this was going to happen, even if you offered me  millions of dollars-so I stand there and watch it all as if it's in slow  motion. And when it hits my chest-that very moment of impact-it snaps  me out of my fucking rage. It's instantaneous.

You know what's fucking hilarious?

I never cared for that fucking ring. I was happy when she was asking if she could keep it when we were done.

But her handing it back to me.

I don't know. It's got a feeling of finality to it.

"It was your stupid dick that put you in this mess," Ashley says, her  words hitting me like venom, and her eyes cold as ice. I've never felt  her as cold and distant as she is right now, not even when we first met.  "Maybe your dick can think of a way out."

She leaves, slamming the door shut behind her, and in that moment I  realize that I've hurt her. This knowledge makes my mind reel.

I want to go and run after her-to wrap her in my arms and tell her that  I'm so fucking sorry, more sorry than she'll ever know. I want to tell  her that it all came out wrong, and that I was just pissed off at the  whole situation and what's at stake, and that I'm an asshole for  jumbling my words and allowing them to fall out of my mouth in such a  tangled mess.

Of course, I don't do any of those things.

I've really fucked things up, and I know that.

I know that this is serious as a heart attack.

But as much as I want to run after Ashley, I know I have to handle this  situation just right, with a degree of delicacy. I need to use a deft  hand, or I'll not only lose Ashley, but the White House as well.

I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen.

There's a whole lot at stake here.

In fact, everything is on the fucking line. And I can't rely on anyone  else to solve this for me. I have to solve it for myself. This is just  another hurdle, in a series of never-ending hurdles that life is going  to throw my way, and I've got to overcome them.

Haven't I overcome gigantic roadblocks in my life before? I need to  think of this as just another one. I need to keep a cool, calm head.

And I'm Austin fucking Bain. I refuse to be a footnote in history.

Remember when I told you that I'm a competitive person? Yeah, well,  competitive is an understatement. I don't even know the meaning of the  word 'lose.'

And Ashley's words haunt me. She said to check the Oval Office for bugs, and it makes sense, now that I think about it.

I think she's right. Why wouldn't Bob Walker try to bug this place?

I just wish I had thought of that sooner.

Immediately, I call Tracy into my office, and as she steps in, I close  the door behind her. "Listen, have the Oval Office swept for bugs," I  instruct her, "and quickly."

"I'm assuming you don't mean the kind that crawl on multiple legs. You  think someone's been spying on us?" she asks, her eyes wide.

"Not someone," I say, "Bob fucking Walker."

I can see the realization of it dawn on her face. There's a moment of  recognition, and she seems to agree. The more I think about it, the more  sense it continues to make.

"I'm on it," she says.

"And one more thing," I continue. "Arrange a televised press conference."

When?" she asks.

"For tomorrow night, I can't waste any time."

"What are you going to say?" Tracy asks.

That's a damn good question. I'm wracking my brain.

"Truthfully, I don't know," I reply. "But I'll figure that out."

Tracy nods, making notes in an app on her cell phone.

"Oh, and another thing," I say. "Just make sure Ashley is there."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? She stormed out of here, and seemed pretty upset."

"Just do it, please-it's important."

Tracy reluctantly nods her head, as if she's resigned to the idea and  there's nothing she can do about it. "Okay, I'll do my best."

"Thanks, I believe in you, Tracy."

"That's a lot of pressure," she grins.

"I know you'll make it happen," I say, patting her on the shoulder.

As Tracy leaves the office, my mind continues to spin like a top,  twirling through every possible scenario, every possible narrative that I  could give at tonight's press conference.

What I know for certain is that I'm not giving up Ashley.

I'm not giving up the presidency. No. We've done too much good. We've  fixed the country too much. Too many people are still left to help.         

     



 

I pace around the office like a tiger pacing inside of a cage. I feel  that every muscle in my body is tense, and ready for action.

If Bob Walker thinks I'm going to step out of the arena with my tail  tucked between my legs, he's sorely mistaken. If there's any fucking man  up to this challenge, it's me.

I remind myself that that this is where I am because I took chances. I  knew from the beginning that it was a risky endeavor. And still, I took  that risk.

Why? Because at the end of the day, life favors the bold. That's the  honest fucking truth. That's where real success can be found.

Show up. Be bold. Fake it if you have to.

I don't give a fuck what anyone says. I will always take my chances.

And that's exactly what I'm going to do tonight.

Roll the dice. Spin the roulette wheel. Play my hand.

Tomorrow night, I'm going to fucking take my chances in front of the entire world.

An idea starts formulating in my brain. I can feel a switch in momentum,  and I feel like I'm onto something. I don't give a fuck if anyone  thinks that this is the craziest idea ever.

You know why? Because no matter what-come hell or high water-nothing is stopping me. Tomorrow night I'm going down in history.

For good or for bad-I'll be in the next generation of history books, that's for fucking sure.

I scroll through every legal contact I have in my phone.

It's time to call the experts.





28





Washington Beat





Future First Lady? Or First Mistress? First Booty Call?





From the desk of Margie Preston  –  our savvy but slightly sappy political reporter



Wow wee!!! Did you see the last 24 hours people? Have you followed on  what's been happening? Because events are changing minute to minute and  if you don't keep up, you'll soon find yourself needing a map you'll be  so lost.



But just in case you missed something that happened in the news because you know, life, let me break it down for you.



So, to start … the President is single again!!! Yay!! It turns out that  Mr. President is really just Mr. Fake Fiancé. At least that's what the  offices of Speaker of the House Bob Walker are stating. To quote the  Speaker in his televised address, "I have irrefutable proof that the  President of the United States hired Ms. Draper with the express  intention of pretending to be his fiancée for the purposes of publicity.  The whole operation was a political PR job. With no goal other than to  deceive the American people."



If that sounds a bit harsh, the Speaker went on to get even harsher.  "Ms. Draper received no vetting from the government. She was not cleared  for any sensitive information. And in her prior dealings, she has  rubbed shoulders with many people who work for institutions and states  that could be hostile to the interests of the United States. It's  entirely possible that Ms. Draper traded sexual favors to a President  who is known to like sexual favors for information that she might not  have gotten otherwise."



Did that sound like he was accusing Ashley Draper, the woman we thought  would be our future First Lady? Here is what the Speaker of the House  went on to say.



"Let me be very, very, clear. I am accusing the woman that we know as  Ashley Draper as being a spy. I don't know for what government or  institution, but it's clear that she is in the White House, just moments  away from the nuclear launch codes under false pretenses."