Spoilers: Through season 5.
xxx
Donna POV
I hate Amy Gardner. I hate the way she talks. I hate her superior attitude. I hate her dark wavy hair. I hate that she's the First Lady's Chief of Staff. I hate that she had the gall to demand if I was in love with Josh.
But mostly, I hate her because she's kissing Josh right now, and I had to see it. It took me a moment to process what was happening when I walked into Josh's office to give him the Cooper file. Josh was standing with his back to me. At first I couldn't figure out why he was hunched over the windowsill like that, but then he tilted his head and I realized it was connected to Amy Gardner's face, who was standing behind him and kissing him.
I repeat, I hate Amy Gardner. I never hated Mandy Hampton like this. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of Mandy, but I never hated her guts the way I hate Amy Gardner's. In fact, I derived some measure of satisfaction from the way she was always able to take Josh down a peg or two, mostly stemming from my irritation with him for even bothering with her in the first place. I guess I just figured that she was digging her own grave as far as Josh was concerned and did not feel threatened because I thought she was a total lunatic anyway.
With Joey Lucas, it was different. Joey Lucas is someone who I might have been friends with if we lived in a Josh-free universe and she was, you know, a lot less brilliant and beautiful. She and I could see eye to eye on a number of things, like the attractiveness of Josh's ass and the need to remind him every once in a while that he is an egomaniac. If I died or something, I would want Josh to be with someone like her. Assuming of course, that he spent an appropriately long time mourning my tragic demise. An appropriately long time being until he was so old he could never have sex again. Anyway, Joey Lucas is not all bad. Also, she spends most of her time in California.
But I digress. At first, I just stood there with my mouth agape, paralyzed with shock. And then, it occurred to me that the single possible thing in the entire world that could be worse than seeing Josh kiss Amy Gardner would be if they happened to look up, stop kissing, and feel obligated to apologize for their unprofessional behavior, or you know, speak to or acknowledge me in any way. Because then I would have to kill one or both of them, and really, I am just not cut out for a lifetime in prison. Those orange jumpsuits do absolutely nothing for alabaster skin.
Never let it be said that Donnatella Moss can't think on her feet. Somehow, I manage to ignore my heart being ground to a pulp and come to my senses enough to realize that the only viable option here is to beat a hasty retreat. I slowly back out of the doorway, and pull it silently shut behind me. I congratulate myself on this incredible measure of self-control, because if ever there were a door-slamming occasion, this would be it.
I march over to my desk, where I see a stapler sitting there, practically begging for me to throw it across the bullpen hard enough to shatter glass. Okay, I haven't retreated far enough. I yank the top drawer of my desk open and grab my purse. I slam the drawer shut and start walking. Several people greet me and I reply through gritted teeth, but it is clear by the expression on my face that I am on a mission, and no one tries to stop me.
Until Sam. "Hey, Donna," he says cheerfully, falling into step beside me. "How's it going?"
"Fine," I spit out.
"Where are you off to?" he asks, still not picking up on the fact that I want to be alone right now.
"Away from here," I inform him.
He glances at me, comprehension dawning. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I say in a tone that clearly implies that he should butt out if he doesn't want to get hurt.
Of course, Sam is clueless to nuances of mood and tone. "Are you sure?" he asks suspiciously. "Because you look upset."
"I'm fine, Samuel. Now, did you need something, or can I be on my way?" I demand.
"No, I didn't need anything. I just thought I'd see how you were." Sam looks so hurt that I immediately feel bad about taking my anger out on him.
I sigh. "Look, Sam, I'm fine. It's just... I have to go," I tell him, gesturing vaguely at the door.
Sam nods, still looking pathetic, so I reach over and pat his arm. He looks somewhat mollified. "Okay," he says. "If you need anything, let me know, all right?"
"Thanks, Sam." I manage a marginally sincere smile and walk away.
Okay. Away is good. I fumble my keys out of my purse and march out into the parking lot. Where can I go? While my instinct is to get in the car and keep driving until I reach a tropical climate where piña coladas are readily available at all hours of the day, I realize that Josh has a senior staff meeting at eleven fifteen, so I'd better restrict my escape plan to downtown DC. I'm disgusted with myself and irritated at Josh because I'm thinking about how to make my escape convenient for him when it's his fault that it's necessary in the first place. I groan in frustration and think maybe a piña colada isn't strong enough for my current situation. However, since I don't think Hawk and Dove is open at ten in the morning, I turn the opposite direction and head into Georgetown.
I miraculously find a mostly legal parking space on M Street, so when I walk into Firehook Bakery, I'm feeling more cheerful. Well, cheerful might be too strong a word right now, but I'm betting it won't be by the time I gorge myself on the raspberry scone, cheesecake, and chocolate chip muffin I've just ordered. I dive into the chocolate muffin first, because it is chocolate and therefore well beyond life's blood in terms of necessity at this point. I pick at the scone when I'm finished and contemplate my immediate dilemma.
When did I become this pathetic person whose life revolves around a man I don't even sleep with? I have no reason, really, to be angry at Josh. We are not dating. I have no right whatsoever to feel betrayed when he is attracted to another woman. Or when he acts on that attraction. Except that I'm in love with the big lug. Not that this matters in terms of the jurisdiction of betrayal, because it is clear by the way that he was enthusiastically kissing another woman that he's not in love with me.
I start in on the cheesecake and reflect that really, this is all Amy Gardner's fault. I mean, Josh and I were fine before she came along. She had to go and get herself hired for Dr. Bartlet so she could come here and spend all her time kissing Josh when she doesn't know the first thing about what he needs. I hate Amy Gardner.
I look down at my cheesecake and realize that I have reduced it to a gluey pulp with my fork. Stupid Amy Gardner. Now because of her, I will never be able to appreciate cheesecake from here again. And that's a damn shame, because it is really good.
I look at my watch and sigh. I have to get back.
When I walk back into the bullpen, Josh is hovering in the hallway. "Where have you been?" he demands as I breeze past him on the way back to my desk.
"I went out to lunch," I inform him.
"It's only eleven o clock!"
"So? I can take lunch whenever I want to," I shoot back.
"You were gone for an hour!" he exclaims.
"That is the length of time appropriate for a break called the lunch hour. And actually, I was gone for fifty-eight minutes, so technically, I should have two minutes left without you pestering me," I say.
"You never take an hour lunch," he scoffs.
"All the more reason for me to be able to take the appropriate amount of time for one day, Joshua," I snap.
"I thought you were going to eat with me while we worked on the Cooper thing," he whines.
I snort in disgust. "Well, you're a big boy, Josh. I trust you can manage to feed yourself for once without me there to spoon feed you."
He looks stunned, and then hurt. "Are you mad at me?" he asks in a wounded voice.
"No, I'm not mad at you." This is of course, a lie, but as I have no good reason to be mad at him just at the moment, I decide there is no point to making him suffer. If Amy Gardner were here, on the other hand...
Josh is standing there uncertainly and I glare at him. "You have senior staff in five minutes. You'd better get going."
He looks at me nervously. "Okay," he says slowly, inching his way back out into the hallway. He walks away, but keeps casting anxious looks back at me over his shoulder. I ignore him.
When he disappears from sight, I release a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. The anger whooshes out of me with that breath, and I'm left with a horrible, gut-wrenching feeling. It's not until I feel the tears stinging my eyes that I recognize the feeling for what it is. Complete and utter desolation. For the first time since I met Josh, I feel a lack of hope.