One thing was for certain, the White House put on a hell of a party.
Annabeth paused in the doorway of the press briefing room on her way to the coffee machine, empty ceramic mug dangling from her hand.
"The President's suit is Armani, and because I know someone's going to ask— no, Drew, I'm not singling you out, don't look at me like that— his cuff links are in fact family heirlooms with a B on them, yes, that's B for Brunner. The dinner menu will be in the packets you'll receive this evening, and there will be a demarcation line— no microphones, no cameras. Those of you in attendance may carry a notepad and a pen." Silena Beauregard was as composed and cheerful as ever from her place at the press secretary podium. Her dark hair fell in soft waves down her shoulders, and the engagement ring on her left hand caught the overhead lights as she gestured emphatically.
"Silena!" A reporter shouted from the second row. "Will the whole Congress be in attendance or just those running for reelection?"
"It's a fundraiser for the DNC, so I assume it'll be the majority of Democrats in Congress, seeking reelection or not, but it's also a Friday night and of course some congressmen-slash-women might have plans. I myself quite like Friday evening plans." Selena paused to allow for laughter from the small crowd of reporters before continuing. "I'll double check on that for you, Drew. Shelley?"
Annabeth gave Silena a small nod from her vantage point in the doorway and then moved on. It was nice to see the press secretary so happy— her relationship with a secret service officer had had the potential to make headlines at one point, given Silena's highly public position, but Beckendorf had resigned his post and proposed to her the next day. Now, Beckendorf was working a desk job at the FBI, and Silena was free to sparkle almost as much as the ring on her finger.
Annabeth made her way over to the coffee maker, filled her mug, and went back to her desk. The press room was a fun stop, if only because sometimes the reporters asked some truly inane questions, but if she stuck around there too long, there would be questions that she didn't especially want to answer, and besides, giving reporters direct access to the deputy chief of staff just wasn't ideal.
Piper was leaning against her doorway when she got back to her office. "Hey, you didn't bring me coffee."
Annabeth took a guilty sip from her mug and fished in her office desk drawer and handed Piper a napkin-wrapped bundle. "I got you a croissant over at the mess this morning?"
Piper took it, but made a face. "It's almost two, it'll be stale. And the napkin it's in is greasy now."
Annabeth grimaced. "I know, I'm sorry. I'll buy you a drink at the party later?"
"It's open bar," Piper countered. "But sure. And bring me a bagel tomorrow morning."
"Done," Annabeth agreed. "Hey, did you figure out what you're wearing tonight?"
Piper grinned. "Zac Posen, floor-length, halter. Just daring enough."
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Rental, or calling in favors?"
Piper shrugged. "Dad insisted on buying me some dresses last month, I hadn't had a chance to wear this one yet. Seriously, I don't know why he thinks I have time to go anywhere that I'd get a chance to wear them, but… whatever. A gala's as good a chance as any, right?"
"Fair enough," Annabeth acknowledged.
"What about you, what are you wearing?" Piper glanced at the garment bag draped over Annabeth's office couch.
"Red silk, thin straps," Annabeth sighed. "Not sure who the designer is, honestly, but it was pretty, and on sale…"
"Annabeth, you're the deputy chief of staff! You represent the government, you should really keep track of which designers you're wearing— it sends a message!" Piper protested.
"You sound like my mother," Annabeth groused. "Look, I made sure it was an American manufacturer, okay? Isn't that good enough? Hell, the President's wearing an Italian suit, that's not especially American of him…"
"Yeah, and Drew's gonna rip it to pieces in the Post's fashion section tomorrow morning," Piper pointed out. "He's wearing Armani? Actually, pause, you know he's wearing Armani?"
"Yeah," Annabeth confirmed. "I stopped by the press room earlier to watch Silena do her thing."
"Ah," Piper nodded in sudden understanding. "So, listen. I got a call from Reyna while you were up. Do you have time to meet her tonight?"
Annabeth frowned. "We have a fundraising gala tonight."
"During the meeting," Piper clarified. "She wants you to meet her between the dinner part and the dancing part, sometime when you won't be missed."
"This feels weirdly Cold War clandestine spy policy," Annabeth rolled her eyes.
"Or, like, setting up meetings between men and their mistresses," Piper said with a wry twist to her mouth. "I know. Point is, you still gotta find the time to meet her. She wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. And clandestine, for that matter, or else she'd be asking during business hours. I told her we'd try to keep it discreet."
"I know, you're right. Thank you." Annabeth glanced down at her watch. "How long have I got before I have to go talk to the Security office about the LaRue confirmation?"
"Ten minutes, and don't forget to make sure they all speak French so they don't assume the woman's mom is a major threat," Piper answered, and turned back to her desk.
The rest of the day went quickly— it was the usual bustle of meetings and paperwork, but nothing especially stressful. Still, the excitement about the fundraising gala had most of the West Wing in a tizzy, almost like everyone had consumed an extra cup of coffee, and the cubicle chatter that Annabeth could overhear had more to do with congressional gossip than with polling numbers, so she didn't mind. She pushed through the rest of the day, and then closed her office door just long enough to change. She emerged in a slinky dark red floor length gown and heels, looking for a bathroom to do her makeup in. The first one she found was full of people, but the second was a floor up and closer to the counsel's office. Usually, she'd complain about how the counsel's office was mostly men, but for the moment she was just thankful to have found a mirror and some decent lighting. She quickly swiped on some mascara and lipstick, dug in her bag for some bobby pins, and tucked her hair into the quickest updo she could manage— nothing fancy, just a Dutch braid with the ends tucked into a bun and the front pieces pulled out. Her mother, Annabeth reflected, would be disappointed.
Fortunately, she was here representing the White House, and not her mother and the cutthroat cotillion crowd.
The dinner itself was delicious, though Annabeth was stuck sitting between Jason and Reyna, and across the table from Percy, which was… not ideal. Jason spent most of the meal jotting down notes on a napkin and glancing nervously at the President, while Reyna was in a noticeably bad mood and smiling through it. That left Percy as a conversation partner, but Percy was apparently friends with a nearby senator who had been seated nearby, and spent most of the meal turned halfway around in his seat to talk to the environmentalist from California and his wife. Annabeth twisted her neck around to look for Piper, but her friend seemed to have disappeared somewhere between the third course and dessert.
The President wheeled himself over to a nearby microphone, gave a perfectly satisfactory toast, and moved back to his place at the table to finish dessert and his wine while an orchestra began to play.
Annabeth glanced to her right and realized that Jason had disappeared, too.
"Odd," someone noted quietly behind her.
She spun, and there was Percy, who had somehow moved from the opposite side of the table and was standing behind her now. "What's odd?"
"Jason's gone, and Reyna just got up, too. Is something going on?" Percy asked.
Annabeth shrugged. "No idea where Jason went, I'm guessing that Reyna just went to the office to do something. Or headed off to schmooze someone, she does a lot of that at these things."
"Right," Percy nodded. "These things. Five-star chef meals and live orchestras for dancing. Because this is normal."
"It's the White House." Annabeth gestured around, resisting the way that Percy's comment made her feel uncomfortable. So what if this had been her normal?
"Right," Percy nodded. "Well, anyway, want to dance?"
Annabeth eyed his extended hand with trepidation, but something fluttered in her chest at the prospect of taking it. "Ah… I wish I could. But I said I'd go meet… I have to go, I'm sorry." She gathered her belongings and tucked the hem of her skirt up enough to not trip over it.
She fled, making her way to Reyna's office. The door was open, so Annabeth knocked on the frame instead. Reyna motioned her in, and gestured for Annabeth to take one of the seats just inside. Annabeth was surprised to note that Silena was there too, sitting just out of view from the door.
Reyna closed the door before turning to the two of them. "Good, Annabeth, you're here. Silena?"
Silena stood up, dusting her palms on the hands of her dark blue silk dress. "So, I didn't want to say anything earlier where anyone could overhear…"
"But what?" Annabeth looked between her boss and her colleague. "What's going on?"
"There might be a problem," Reyna said, direct as ever. "We knew something might come up, and if the President's hard to reach, then of course someone's going to go for a senior staffer."
"So it's about me?" Annabeth thought back to something, anything she'd done over the last two years that could warrant a meeting like this.
Silena sighed. "Annabeth, did you at any point have a secret relationship or affair with a sitting member of the U.S. government?"
Annabeth's breath caught in her chest. "I…"
"It's okay if you did, especially if it was before you took this job or they took office," Reyna said gently. "But we need to know."
"What's going on?" Annabeth asked. "Who has it, who…"
"I don't know. I'm trying to find out," Silena told her. "But…"
"It's not true," Annabeth told them both, doing her best to suppress the feelings of guilt and shame twisting together inside of her, weighing down her every move. "I mean, it kind of is. I could see how it would be easy to construe it that way. But it never… I never… at the end of the day, no."
Reyna sighed, fingers twisting the perfectly smooth strands of hair that framed her face. The chief of staff's hair was up tonight, in a small but noticeable contrast to the way it was normally in a long braid over her shoulder. It made her look more refined, but less like the woman Annabeth had grown to know. "Is this who I think it is?"
Annabeth thought back to the early days of the campaign, when Thalia had been around, joining Annabeth and Luke for late-night drinks and lobbing packets of peanut butter cups and Skittles around their cramped desks. She squeezed her fists tight, blocked out the memory. "Yes."
"Okay." Reyna looked at Silena, then back at Annabeth. "For the moment, we stay quiet, then."
Annabeth blinked. "Okay."
Reyna clasped her hands together on her desk. "Silena, you find out who has it. Annabeth, meet with Silena, you're going to get some media training in case this comes up."
Annabeth and Silena looked at each other and nodded.
Annabeth squeezed her fists tighter, manicured nails cutting into her palms. "How bad could this be, if someone does publish it?"
Silena sighed. "Even if it's not true, it doesn't look good. We'll have to do damage control."
"Best thing we can do is keep you from pissing too many people off," Reyna said, the words laced with annoyance. "Which means I probably have to pull you back from some of the meetings on the Hill, at least until we know who has it and why."
"In case they're on a congressman's payroll?" Annabeth started to ask, then cut herself off. "No, in case they decide to go after me for being over on the Hill in the first place, because they'll say I'm over there having an affair on the West Wing's dime. Great."
"Or both, or something worse," Silena cut in. "It's… trust me, they come up with some pretty vicious stuff when they've got a lead but no facts."
"Right." Annabeth swallowed. "So in the meantime?"
Reyna sighed. "Let's all go back to the party, we're all dressed up, so we may as well put in an appearance."
On the way back through the office hallways, Silena reached out to squeeze Annabeth's hand. "It'll be okay."
Annabeth barely heard the words through the thumping of the blood in her ears and the swelling of the orchestra as they approached the ballroom.
A longer chapter for y'all this time, and a hint of where the plot's going! Thank you all so much for your readership and support, your reviews and the notion that you're enjoying this mean so much to me! ~GT