"That's all," Josh snapped his folder closed, signaling the end of Senior Staff. As his deputies filed out, Cliff Calley hung back.
"Something else?" Josh asked, rounding his desk. Cliff was another Santos appointee that Josh has been concerned about, but he had to admit everything was running fairly smoothly in operations under Cliff's direction.
"As a matter of fact, there is," Cliff stated, shutting the door to the outer office.
Josh glanced up, raising his eyebrows, unsure of what was about to happen.
"Look, I know there's a lot of speculation about the contents of this book. But I just wanted to say, I've never told a soul."
"Excuse me?"
"About any of it," Cliff continued. He knew as well as Josh did that they were both following what he was implying. He didn't need to come right out and say it. They'd never spoken of the night with Donna and the diary after they'd left the park, but Cliff wanted to make it crystal clear that he'd never leaked a word of their agreement. "It's not in there, Josh. I just wanted to let you know, I suppose. I know you I haven't exactly become the closest of friends, but I wouldn't do that to you, Josh. And I wouldn't do it to her either. Anyway. One less thing to wonder."
Josh nodded his head curtly, thanking Cliff in his own Joshlike way.
"And I'll keep my ear to the ground. If I hear who's behind this, you'll be the first one to know," he added, slipping out of the Chief of Staff's office before Josh had a chance to respond.
Rather than comforting him, however, Cliff's reassurances about Donna only brought to the forefront Josh's greatest fears. He'd been trying his hardest not to think about this implications this book may have held for her over the last few days, but now it was unavoidable. He'd made his peace that Hellhound could contain any number of lies or truths about him, but that's not what kept Josh up at night. His greatest fear about the publication of this gossip rag of a book was that it would contain anything that would hurt Donna.
He tossed back his third handful of antacids that morning and attempted to push his worries from his mind. He had to get on with his day. He had a stalled bill in the House, a position to fill in Legislative Affairs, and a press corps living under the impression that it had been Amy Gardner's idea that she resign her post.
He grabbed his suit jacket and briefcase. "Have my car waiting," he barked in the general direction of the doorway, not having bothered to learn the name of the newest temp sent up from HR.
He made efficient work of his scheduled meeting with Vice President Baker, running through the list of items the Vice President would work with the White House on for the next few weeks. The monthly meetings seemed to work well for the Vice President, and even though Josh found them to be an inconvenience, he had to admit that Baker was working out nicely. He threw his full support behind all of the Santos initiatives and made use of his authority, actively involving himself in anything the White House suggested. He was, Josh thought, a far cry from both Hoynes and Russell.
Still, Josh felt a pang in his heart every time he visited Number One Observatory Circle. Baker certainly wasn't Josh's first choice for the office, and he missed Leo dearly. Josh swallowed hard at the thought. Another devastating loss in a long list of the people he loved most dearly. With the exception of his mother, Josh Lyman was alone in this world.
Josh exited his vehicle, walking past the press pool that was gathered outside. The reporters, some faces familiar from previous administrations, some new to the job, shouted their questions to Josh as though he was a celebrity. They were looking for comments on a variety of topics- everything from troop movement to tax reform to Hellhound. And the newest flavor of the week, from what it sounded like, was Amy Gardner.
"Mr. Lyman, what drove Amy Gardner to resign from her position?"
"Josh- Josh- Do you have a comment on the rumoured toxic environment inside the West Wing that drove Amy Gardner to leave her job?"
"Are you worried that Amy's departure is a signal that the reports circulating in Hellhound are true? Is she merely the first of your senior advisors to jump from the sinking ship?"
Josh normally ignored them but he was in one of his moods that day, irritated by weeks of inaccurate reporting of unfounded rumours, compiled with years of Amy's shameless self promotion of her own career over the greater good.
He stopped and removed his sunglasses with fervor, growling at the reporter. "Get one thing straight. I fired her ass!"
And with that he stormed back towards his office, leaving the gaggle somewhat stunned. He didn't even glance towards the man sitting at the outer desk, instead opting to throw his backpack into the corner and began to weed through the envelopes placed on his desk. He came to a particularly thick envelope, his name handwritten in indistinct lettering. "Josh Lyman- White House COS" was scrawled in black marker, with a large red PERSONAL & CONFIDENTIAL stamped under it. With no mail markings, it had clearly been couriered over.
Josh opened the envelope and froze immediately when he pulled out a pre-release edition of Hellhound. His heart was pounding in his chest. As soon as he regained his bearings he grabbed the envelope and stood in the doorway to his office, practically shouting at the temp.
"When did this get here," he held the empty envelope up. "Who brought it?"
"I- uh," the man was clearly nervous. "The mail room brought it. About 45 minutes ago."
"Call down there. Find out where it came from. Hold all of my calls and visitors. Cancel my meetings for the rest of the afternoon."
"Sir?" The temp wasn't sure where to begin with Josh's demands. It was his first day, after all.
"Just do it!" Josh barked. He slammed the the door to his office and collapsed into his chair, anxiously leaning forward and opening the book, his finger scanning the index for one name and one name only. Though subconsciously, he held his breath, praying that somehow, against all odds, it wouldn't be there.
His finger stopped, however, when 'Moss, Donnatella,' practically came to life on the page, jumping out at him with the haphazardly drawn red underline.
Josh went immediately into frenzy to find the referenced pages, reading in a mumbled whisper as he scanned for what he prayed the book wouldn't contain. But there it was, in black and white, circled in red marker so he'd be sure not to miss it.
"Fuck," he practically screamed, slamming the book and standing up to pace.
It was official, he thought. Any chance he'd probably never had to begin with had all gone to hell. He'd lived his life for the 10 years knowing that if nothing else, he could protect her. He'd lay down his career, and hell, his life, if that meant she was safe and happy. He'd always prided himself on that ability.
Two thousand years ago a Roman citizen could walk across the face of the known world free of the fear of molestation. He could walk across the city unharmed, cloaked only in the words 'Civis Romanus,' I am a Roman citizen. He'd made sure that the same principles applied to her. So great was the retribution of Josh Lyman, universally understood as certain, should any harm befall Donnatella Moss.
But not anymore. She remained the only thing he'd held dear, and he'd broken the solemn vow he'd made to himself to keep her safe. To keep her out of this.
Josh scrubbed his hands over his face, trying not to internally crumble into a million pieces. After backing up against a wall and coaxing himself to take deep breaths for a few minutes, he finally found his way back to his office chair. There was no point in delaying the inevitable, he supposed. He'd have to read it.
He picked the book up from where it had landed earlier, noticing for the first time that the majority of the contents were missing. In his earlier rage he hadn't been as observant as he would have liked, and upon closer examination Josh realized that he'd been provided with only a few dozen pages, most of which contained excerpts that had already been released, and a full index of what would be published. The only truly new information that the book contained was the partial passage about Donna, circled in red marker.
Someone was playing with his head.
Josh spent the majority of the afternoon locked away in his office brooding. He'd read everyone on the communications staff the riot act and practically torn the heads off of everyone else he'd encountered. The day wore on but Josh couldn't focus on anything but Hellhound. Even tucked away in the top drawer of his filing cabinet, it still seemed to mock him.
He began to pace, eventually picking up a briefing memo, willing to read anything to get his mind off of the book. As much as he hated to admit it, if someone was trying to throw him off of his game, it was working. If someone was trying to agitate him into making a scene, they were closer to succeeding than he was comfortable with. But he vowed not to comment on the publication. Not to let them win. And if that meant he had to lock himself into his office until he calmed down, then by God that's what he'd do.
The hours ticked by, and Josh read over the same memo at least a dozen times. He'd rescheduled his meetings, even waiving off Senior Staff and outright cancelling a cardiologist appointment that he'd been postponing for a year. He'd found himself relieved that the bulk of the White House staff had head home for the evening, leaving him to his thoughts.
Josh knew he needed a strategy, and he needed one soon. He'd prided himself on his ability to navigate situations such as these with precision. He'd wall himself off to the world if need be, but he'd come up with a plan. He'd power through it, showing no sign of weakness. He'd act like he wasn't even phased in the slightest by this cheap publicity stunt.
And he'd prove it to himself, too, he thought, loosening his tie and deciding on the spot that he'd spend another night on the couch in his office. He'd show everyone he wasn't phased. He wasn't shaken. He'd power through this and come out stronger on the other side after it was done, he told himself as he kicked his shoes off and lay down without a blanket, immediately feeling the all too familiar pain shoot through is right side.
Besides, there was nothing waiting for him at home