As she drove to the White House in silence, forgoing her usual morning news, CJ anxiously imagined what the contents of the story might be. She wondered how they would frame it, how they would relate it to her work, how they would characterize her- a slut, a homewrecker, any other vulgar term referring to a woman.
She had never regretted anything more than that night. She thought about it all the time, thought about all the different choices she could have, should have made. Should have known it wasn't just another business dinner. Should have stopped after one drink. Should have called a cab instead of accepting his offer of a ride. Should have, should have, should have.
But now, it was too late. It had happened, and everyone knew it had happened. She walked into her office with her head held high, but the look on her face betrayed her facade of confidence. Toby sat there waiting for her, and when she entered the room, he stretched out his arms for a hug. This uncharacteristically sweet behavior from Toby, of all people, reinforced CJ's knowlege of the seriousness of the situation.
She then sat down at her desk and decided to handle this like she would handle any other breaking scandal.
"Do you have the story?"
"Yes. Do you want to read it?"
"It's my job to read it."
"Okay." Toby handed over the story given to him by the Post reporter, who had given it to him in a weak attempt at a favor to prepare for the anger coming his way from the West Wing.
As CJ read the story, one section jumped out at her: Ms. Cregg has never been in a public long-term relationship. When asked about this, her response is typically "my work is my passion." Perhaps her passion for her work drove her into bed with a married man in an attempt to advance her career. What is clear is that Ms. Cregg is responsible for a serious breach of professional ethics, and must resign.
"They make no reference to him having any responsibility for the situation, or the fact that you opposed most of his initiatives, or your successful career in your own right." Toby said indignantly.
CJ just sat quietly, absorbing the story's harsh attacks and attempting to formulate a logical response through her clouded emotions.
"There's something I never told you." she said, and then paused. "I... I didn't..." she sighed. She didn't know how to present this news to Toby in a way that would keep him from storming out of her office and going to strangle John Hoynes.
"What is it?" Toby asked with a nervous, serious edge to his voice.
"We went out for what was supposed to be a business dinner to discuss his image leading up to a possible future Presidential run. At the dinner, I tried to drive the conversation towards interviews and events, but it became clear that he wasn't interested. He ordered a full bottle of wine for the two of us, and kept refilling my glass. I drank some, but I wasn't drunk or anything.
It got pretty late, and I had work the next morning, so I said I needed to head home for the night. I usually took cabs, but it had been a long day, and so I relented to what I thought was a gentlemanly offer to take me home. He escorted me to his car, and when we got to my apartment, he insisted on walking me up. I thought it was strange, but he was a powerful Senator, so I agreed. Then he persuaded me to let him in, then to have a drink, then another. I somehow failed to notice that when he put water in his drink, he didn't do the same for mine. Everything became hazy.
I don't remember anything until the next morning, when I woke up naked and alone in my bed. After a few confused minutes where I hardly knew my own name, I realized what had happened. My heart dropped, and I sat there frozen for about an hour before realizing I was late for work. I managed to drag myself out of bed and go to work. I never seriously considered reporting him, I mean, no one would have believed me. They would have said I was just a lonely single woman who had a one night stand she regretted. We've never spoken about that night. I've never told anyone. I hoped I would never have to." she said stoically. She maintained her composed presence, successfully shielding her inner turmoil.
"CJ. I'm so sorry." Toby looked at her, clearly devastated by this revelation about his best friend.
"It's okay, Toby. Really. I'm fine, I've gotten over it. Now we just have to figure out how to keep this from hurting the President."
"You got raped and all you're worried about is how it will affect the President's approval rating? CJ, you don't have to be a martyr. You need to go public. You're probably not the only woman he's done this to."
"Are you crazy? I have worked too hard to allow my career to be ruined by him. Do you know how hard it was for me to overcome this? To work near him, see him all the time, have to cordially greet him with 'Hello, Mr. Vice President.' I'm the White House Press Secretary. I survived while he ruined his own career. I am respected in this town, and I'm not giving all that up to be the next Anita Hill."
"I know you think that no one will believe you. But I think we can do this. We can tell the truth. Please, consider doing an interview. You can pick the reporter, I'm sure they'll all be plenty interested. Just don't let him get away with this. You shouldn't have to take the punishment for his crime. Not after all he's done to you."
CJ looked away. The truth was, she knew she ought to do an interview. She knew that there were probably other victims, her story was going to be public anyway, might as well have the real version out there, but she was terrified. She sat frozen for several minutes before deciding. She picked up her phone and called Danny Concannon.
"Hey. It's me. I need a favor."