Vanity Affair

Standing from her desk, she took a deep breath, preparing herself to be the next victim of the Secretary's many moods. Lately, she'd been snapping at the staff for seemingly no reason. As she walked down the hall, Nadine's forehead pinched when Blake fell into step beside her.

"Do you—"

Cutting him off, she said, "I already have plans for this evening, Blake."

Truthfully, the only pressing matter on her calendar was curling up on the couch with a blanket, a good book, and a glass of wine, but since tonight would most likely be her only "alone time" for the next two weeks, she was hellbent on staying in and fully enjoying it. Tomorrow, the Secretary and the senior staff had a holiday party at the White House. Then, they were scheduled to fly out early on Saturday afternoon for a quick trip to London. When they returned, she would spend the rest of the month chasing after bureaucrats and businessmen who were milking the phrase let's circle back after the holidays.

"How did you know?"

Looking up at him, Nadine smiled. "I know everything," she teased. Honestly, she'd overheard Matt and Daisy's conversation in the breakroom about him needing a plus one.

"Elizabeth's next on my list," he told her, following her into the office.

When they crossed the vestibule, side by side, the Secretary's husband turned his head, looking their way. Earlier, she'd heard from her assistant who'd heard from Blake that he'd shown up at the State Department unannounced about an hour ago. Usually, his presence (and the take-out lunch he often brought with him) was met with a wide smile, but she could sense the tension between the couple. Cringing, she hoped there wouldn't be an issue— she wasn't in the mood for more handholding today. While the Secretary kept her head down, scribbling her signature across the bottom of a document, Henry greeted them with a quick wave of his hand.

"Ma'am," Nadine and Blake greeted at the same time. Cocking an eyebrow, she threw him a look, silently challenging him. Giving in, she waved her hand. "Quickly," she muttered because they had actual business that needed to be discussed.

She watched Blake step up to her desk and smooth down his tie. "Madam Secretary, I have an extra ticket for a show at the Kennedy Center tonight. I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"

Her pen stilled over the stack of documents. "I don't kno—"

"Oh, come on." Wearing a smile, he tried to entice her. "I'll even treat you to dinner. I was thinking of Apéro in Georgetown. They just reopened their patio."

From his chair, Henry chuckled. "Good luck," he told him. "She won't even join me for a dinner out."

Throwing her pen down, Elizabeth shook her head.

"What?" Henry asked.

Over her glasses, she stared into his soul. "I can't deal with either of you right now. Both of you out." Hesitantly, Nadine shared a look with Blake before looking toward Henry, but— "Now!" Elizabeth yelled.

With his tail between his legs, Blake quickly scurried away— Maggie would need to clear at least an hour from her schedule this afternoon. After that exchange, she fully expected to find Blake sprawled out across the couch in her office, looking for another therapy session. With Henry hot on his heels, she heard the men start to whisper once they turned the corner.

"Did you need something, Nadine?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she said, fingers curling over the edge of her planner. "I just wanted to inform you that your meeting at the White House has been canceled. Apparently, the president isn't feeling well today."

The Secretary turned over a paper, placing it in the outbox on the corner of her desk. "I'll give him a call later."

For a moment, Nadine stood in the middle of her office, studying her. As much as she wanted to give the other woman space to work out her own issues, she couldn't keep subjecting the staff to a hostile work environment— no, really, just last week, she'd found an intern crying at her desk. Blake too. The seventh floor was stressful, especially around the holidays, but there was no excuse for taking it out on coworkers, Secretary of State or not.

Nadine really wasn't in the mood for handholding, but she took a seat, crossing one leg over the other anyway. "Is everything alright?"

Across the desk, Elizabeth met her eyes. "They don't understand."

"Unfortunately, men have a habit of that." Surprisingly, that made her smile. "Has something happened that you'd like to tell me about?"

Swallowing, her eyes fell to her lap. "I…" Elizabeth trailed off, spinning her wedding bands around her finger. Then, she reached out, handing off an old newspaper. It was folded so a photograph of her and her husband from a couple of weeks ago was front and center.

"Did something happen?"

Instead of answering, Nadine watched Elizabeth stand and walk toward the coffee table in front of the sofa. There, she bent at the waist, shuffling through the stack of today's papers. After picking up a magazine, she returned to her desk chair, passing it over.

"The Vanity Fair article?" Now, Nadine was really confused. She, Daisy, and the Secretary herself had met with the people working on the campaign. The writer, Dylan Collins, had been lovely— kind, respectful, and easy to talk to. The same could be said for the photographer. "I thought it was wonderful."

Sinking into her chair, Elizabeth said, "I've gained weight since taking office."

That was just about the last thing she expected to hear.

"What?"

Eyes down, she nervously fingered through the pages of a binder. "I um… I have disordered eating," she admitted. "Body image really had nothing to do with how it started, but seeing these pictures has been… triggering I guess."

"I…" Nadine fumbled for words. "I had no idea."

Growing up as a dancer, she'd witnessed firsthand how an eating disorder could completely take over someone's life— over-exercising and extreme dieting. It became an obsession. Her own relationship with food became rocky a time or two, mostly when she'd been young. Luckily, a teacher had seen the signs and, unlike Maribel Durand, one of her friends, who'd eventually gone into heart failure from untreated anorexia, she'd gotten help before any real damage had been done to her body.

"You look a bit pale," Elizabeth commented. "I— We don't have to talk about this, Nadine. I know it can be a touchy subject."

Shaking her head, she waved her off. "No, it's fine." Truthfully, thinking about Maribel made her queasy— the image of her collapsing on stage during a dress rehearsal would forever be ingrained in her brain. "How can I help?"

"I don't think you can." Looking away, Elizabeth wrung her hands together. "My therapist says it started as a coping mechanism in response to my parents dying. Now, it pops up in times of stress. Lately, that seems like all the time."

"If you need me to take more off your plate, I ca—"

"I don't want to put more on you."

"Ma'am, I want you to get better." She would hold her hand through her many moods, through the ups and the downs of a debilitating disorder. "Obviously, I know that this doesn't just disappear, but if you need time in your schedule for therapy sessions, I can make that happen."

"I think that would be for the best."

Closing the magazine, Nadine said, "I can tell Blake to call Dr. Sherman." A thought crossed her mind. "Does he know?"

Did she have his support through this?

Again, Elizabeth spun her wedding bands around her finger. "I haven't even told Henry." Reaching out, she picked up her pen. "I know it may seem silly, but once you tell someone, they—"

"Treat you differently?"

Slowly, she nodded.

"Well," Nadine began, sliding the magazine onto the edge of her desk. "I happen to know that both of those men would defend you even if you were holding a knife over a bloody corpse," she joked. "They care about you too much to ever judge you."

"And you?"

"I understand," she told her, pausing to meet her eyes. After a moment, she began again. "I know the press can capture some rather unflattering angles, but that shouldn't stop you from enjoying a night out."

From experience, Nadine knew that emotion avoidance would be a recurring topic during her therapy sessions, but she thought it would be good to push her a little right now.

Groaning, Elizabeth scribbled on a scratch piece of paper. "Cameras are everywhere," she muttered. "Reporters are outside the State Department every day. When people see me running at the park, they take out their phones. I can't even go to the grocery store anymore."

"It'll pass," Nadine reminded as she looked down at the picture of Elizabeth and Henry dancing together at last month's state dinner. Standing, she tucked the newspaper under her arm with her planner. "You should go to dinner with your husband. Maybe even accompany Blake to the Kennedy Center."

"What if I get anxious?"

Nadine shrugged one shoulder. "What if you don't?"