One.
"I heard a new one today," Maggie ventured. It had been a particularly long and trying day, and Nadine was beginning to show the signs of it. Maggie hoped this would cheer her up.
"What was it?" Nadine said distractedly. She loaded a few more binders into Maggie's arms before setting aside a few others to take home.
Maggie's eyes glittered. "'Battleax Bitch'."
Nadine's head shot up. "Who came up with that?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Some Senator." She'd heard it through the grapevine, and no one was stupid enough to name names. No one inside the Truman ever voiced such insults, knowing it would always get back to Maggie, but aides around the Hill forgot that Maggie had eyes and ears everywhere, even outside her own building. She took after her boss that way.
"It's not very creative," Nadine said.
"No. I kind of like it, though. The alliteration is fun."
"It does have a nice ring to it." Nadine cracked a grin. "Doesn't break my top five, but you're right—the alliteration is neat." She added a final binder to Maggie's pile. "All right, I think that's it for tonight, and then you're free to go. Thank you for all your help today."
"Of course, ma'am."
Nadine glanced over Maggie's shoulder. "Oh no," she muttered.
Maggie turned and then found herself leaping out of the way as Jay barreled through the door.
He held up his hands. "Just a real quick thing, I promise," he said.
"It better be. I'm sending Maggie home right now no matter what, so whatever it is better not need her."
He held the door open for Maggie to slip out. "It doesn't," he promised. "Good night, Maggie," he added. "Drive safe."
"Thanks, Jay. Good night to you both."
As the door slowly shut behind her, Maggie heard Nadine's voice carry out into the corridor, sounding much peppier than it had five minutes ago. "Before you get into it—want to hear my newest nickname?"
Maggie smiled.
Two.
"You have been dubbed 'The Wicked Witch of the East'," Maggie announced. She'd been out for drinks with some friends—other assistants—and it had come up sometime between the third vodka soda and the late-night pizza. "I heard just last night." She set down a mug of tea and a carrot muffin on the corner of Nadine's desk.
It was 50/50 whether Nadine would actually eat the muffin—even after all this time working for her, Maggie still couldn't predict when she would or wouldn't eat. Sometimes it helped to have Blake pointedly eye the muffin while he sat in front of her during their morning rundown. It had guilted her into taking at least a few bites before.
"Well good morning to you, too," Nadine said dryly.
"Good morning, Wicked Witch of the East," Maggie said dutifully.
"That's an old one, you know."
She deflated a little. "What? But I've never heard it before."
"Mhmm. I've been called it off and on for the past fifteen years." She pulled the tea toward herself and wrapped her hands around the mug, most likely scalding her palms. "Thank you, by the way."
Maggie pushed out her lip. "Well, that makes my entrance pretty anticlimactic, then."
"It's still one of my favorites," Nadine offered. "Top three for sure."
"You're a Wizard of Oz fan?"
"Who isn't? What little girl doesn't dream of being the Wicked Witch?" Her eyes were full of mirth.
"But the Wicked Witch of the East doesn't even do anything," Maggie pointed out. "She dies in the first five minutes." It was hard to be notorious when you were dead.
"It's her reputation I like." Nadine grinned. "Plus, it's hard to be the Wicked Witch of the West when I'm from the East Coast... and not green. I'll take what I can get."
"I suppose," Maggie relented. "I suppose that's fair." Mollified, she tipped her chin toward the muffin. "Please eat today. Or else I'll have to get Blake to bring you in a full breakfast spread. Like what the Secretary eats." It was a grave threat. Maggie knew full well that Nadine couldn't manage the sheer volume of food that made up the Secretary's diet, even for one meal. Nadine ate like a gerbil, and that was on a good day.
She narrowed her eyes. "Blake is a bad influence on you."
"He said that too, but in a much different tone." Maggie clasped her hands. "So? What's it going to be?"
"You could drop a house on me instead."
"I checked and we can't fit that in your schedule today until after lunch."
Reluctantly, Nadine picked up the muffin.
Three.
Maggie had heard all about Nadine Tolliver's reputation when she'd first been hired. The Ice Queen, everyone called her.
It had made her appropriately anxious—she had nightmares about it right up to the day she began, had convinced herself that there was no possible way she'd be cut out for the job or the person, and she had nearly talked herself into quitting before she even started.
She would always be glad that she didn't.
Nadine was tough. She was intimidating. Her reputation existed for a reason and Maggie couldn't refute that. But she was also compassionate, frequently patient, and very protective of her own staff.
These kindnesses didn't extend to everyone, however, and Maggie saw that too. She was reminded every day why it'd be a bad idea to get on Nadine's shit list. But Nadine wasn't cold and she wasn't a bully, and she didn't tolerate people who were. Ice Queen, Maggie quickly decided, was a misnomer.
Because Maggie had seen her boss cuddle babies, had seen her wipe tears from tiny little faces, had seen her produce lollipops and Hershey kisses for them from a secret stash in her desk drawer that she refused to admit existed.
Maggie had seen her take her policy intern aside on the day the girl walked in with a black eye that was just barely visible under layers of concealer. Nadine had pulled her into her office, flipped the blinds closed, and locked the door; had missed the morning staff meeting and several other meetings besides, had instead chosen to give the girl the space and support she seemed to so desperately need.
When they'd emerged hours later, it was clear they both had been crying.
Nadine had pulled Maggie aside next and put a key into her hands. "I gave Grace the rest of the day off," she'd said quietly, a tissue crumpled in her hand. "I'd like for you to take her to my condo and help her get settled with anything she might need... she just doesn't have a place to go right now."
"Should I stop by her apartment to put together a bag for her?"
Nadine had shaken her head. "No, I— I don't think that's a good idea. It doesn't sound like it would be safe... for you or for her."
"Okay." Maggie had paused then. She didn't know, exactly, how to look after her boss in this instance. "Are you... are you all right?"
When Nadine had looked up, there was a thin ring of mascara smeared under her bottom lash line. "I'm fine, Maggie, thank you," she'd said. "Call me if you run into any problems. I called ahead to my building; the guard should be expecting you."
Four.
"Blake said he heard another moniker," Nadine told her, "but he refused to tell me what it was."
Maggie tried not to wince. She'd heard it too, and didn't exactly find it very funny. It felt a little too nasty to be amusing, and so she didn't feel inclined to share. "O-Oh yeah?" she tried.
Of course, if Nadine had already gotten wind of it, Maggie might not have a choice.
"You've always been terrible at lying to me, Margaret," Nadine reminded her lightly.
Maggie did wince then. She hated being addressed by her legal name and Nadine knew it.
"Is it that bad?"
"No, it just... isn't fun." Maggie shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't like it."
"Let's hear it."
She sighed. "...Frigid harpy whore?"
Nadine's expression was unreadable. She paused for a long moment. "Well, which is it?" she deadpanned finally. "Am I frigid, or am I a whore?"
"That's up for debate, I think," Maggie said lightly, and Nadine chuckled.
"It's been up for debate since the Carter administration," she said. "God knows why."
"They feel threatened by you," Maggie suggested. She didn't bother defining the general 'they', because it didn't really make a difference. Her statement held true no matter who she was talking about: most politicians and aides around the Hill were intimidated by Nadine Tolliver.
"Perhaps," Nadine said vaguely. While she wasn't afraid to take advantage of her reputation to get things done, it was rare that she copped to it otherwise. "All right then, back to work. Thank you for telling me. And for being less difficult than Blake when I asked."
Maggie blinked. "You— you aren't upset?"
"At you? Of course not." Nadine furrowed her brow. "Did you think I was upset because I used your legal name? I was just teasing you."
"No, I meant... you aren't upset about the insult?"
"Oh." Nadine laughed and then waved away her concern. "Maggie, it's just words. Of course I'm not upset."
Insults that were just words to Nadine were attacks that Maggie would've cried over, had they been directed toward her. Maggie had been told all her life that she was too sensitive, too soft, too easily injured. And so it amazed her the way that so few things ever seemed to faze her boss—insults and aggressions included. Maggie wished she could be more like that; she wanted to learn how. She always wanted to be tougher but it just didn't come that easy to her. All the ways Maggie wanted to be, seemed second nature to Nadine.
"Right," she said.
"Save your upset for the things that really matter," Nadine reminded her. It was something she said often. "You're far too busy for anything else, and so am I."
"Right," Maggie said again.
"And tell Blake I know the nickname now, no thanks to him."
Five.
Maggie: I heard a new nickname for you today
It had been weeks since Nadine had moved away, even longer since she'd resigned, but Maggie still texted her all the time.
Maggie had taken the resignation hard. She had worked for Nadine for so long, for so many years, that she'd hardly known what to do with herself when it came so abruptly to a close. She stayed on for Jay because Nadine asked her to, but she would've done it even if Nadine hadn't. She liked Jay. Working for him wasn't the same as working for Nadine, but she supposed it was unfair to compare the two.
Nadine texted back ten minutes later.
Nadine: For me?
Maggie: Yep
Maggie watched the three dots appear, pulsing, as Nadine typed out her response.
Nadine: But I don't work there anymore
Maggie: It's more of a reissue of an old nickname
Maggie: Now that word has spread and most everyone knows you've moved to SF
Nadine: Stop telling people where I live
Maggie huffed out a laugh as she typed.
Maggie: Do you want to hear it or not ?
She had to wait a few minutes for Nadine's message to come through.
Nadine: Fine
Nadine: What is it
Maggie was smiling, actually smiling, as she messaged her back.
Maggie: Wicked Witch of the West
She could picture the way the pleased grin would slowly spread across Nadine's whole face. She hoped it would make her day.