THE PRESIDENT'S GIRLFRIEND (18 page)

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Authors: Mallory Monroe

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     Christian glanced at Allison.

     “It’s about the lady, isn’t it?”  Allison asked.  “It’s about this Regina Lansing?”

     “Yes, ma’am,” Christian said.

     “Well what is it, man?” Max asked.  “Spit it out!”

      “She’s been arrested before,” Christian said quickly, and Max, fit to be tied, fell back in his chair.

+++

Dutch’s penis slid in and out of Gina with the ease of a man who knew that tunnel so well.  He loved the feel and tightness of her, he loved the way she was always so wet and juicy.  And his movements quickened when she moaned.  He pulled her closer against him as he began to pound  her.  And just when he released, just when he spilled into her with a push out that caused him a shutter-like spasm, the phone rang. 

     He collapsed into her arms, his breathing heavy and hard.  His phone never rang unless it was urgent.

     “We need to meet,” Max said.

     “Involving?”

     “Miss Regina Lansing.”

     Dutch paused.  “I’ll be there,” he said, and hung up the phone. 

     He laid back down beside Gina, pulled her into his arms.  “Here we go,” he said, somehow feeling the onslaught was just beginning.

 

In the west sitting room of the residence, Max and Allison stood to their feet as Dutch, in a silk red robe, and Gina, in a pair of jeans and a jersey, came into the room.  Max glanced at Allison when he realized Gina was with Dutch, but he didn’t bother to argue the point.  This meeting was, after all, all about her.

     “Good morning,” Dutch said as he and Gina walked toward the sofa.  “Have a seat.  Allison, you’ve met Gina, haven’t you?”

     “No, sir, I don’t think I have,” Allison said.  “Hello Gina.  It is okay for me to call you Gina?”

     “Yes, please,” Gina said.       

     “Allison’s my press secretary, babe,” Dutch said as he and Gina sat on the sofa. 

     Gina and Allison shared a smile.  Everybody in America, if they followed DC politics even a little bit, knew Allison Shearer.  She was on cable news, as the president’s mouthpiece, almost every day.

     “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Max said, knowing full well, from the breathless way the president answered the phone call, that he had been pounding the mess out of that young lady. 

     “What’s this about?” Dutch asked, a flash of Gina’s black body arching up to his white body dancing across his mind.  He leaned back and crossed his legs.  Gina continued to sit on the edge.

     “I had a meeting with Bob Munford this morning,” Max said.

     “And?”

     “And I just want to know how you plan to handle the arrest.”

     Dutch frowned.   “What arrest?”

     Max looked at Gina.  “What?” she asked Max.  When he continued to stare at her, she thought again.  And then shook her head.   “I don’t have a record, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

     “I didn’t ask if you had a record,” Max said.  “I asked if you were ever arrested.”

     Gina was lost.  She had to think hard.  When it hit, it still confused her.  “But that was nothing,” she said and Dutch looked at her. 

     Allison sighed in frustration.  “So it’s true?” she asked Gina.

     “It was nothing,” Gina said again. 

     “What was it?” Dutch asked.

     Gina turned toward him.  “I was in college, if that’s what they’re talking about.  And we were protesting one of the professors who gutted many legal aid programs for the poor back when he was a politician, before he became a professor.  Things got out of hand--”

     “Property was destroyed,” Max added.

     “And the cops arrested a handful of us, that’s true.  But the charges were dropped like right away.  We cleaned up the little property damage.  It was nothing.”

     Max looked at Allison. 

     “What is it?” Dutch asked him.

     Max leaned forward.  “You were protesting with the USJ party, correct?”

     “Yes,” Gina said, still not understanding why that would be a big deal.

     “And what, Gina, does USJ stand for?”

     “It was the United Social Justice party, or something like that.”

     “United Socialists for Justice Party, to be exact,” Max corrected her.

     “What’s the difference?  It’s a social justice party.”

     “It’s a socialists for social justice party.  That’s the difference!”  Max’s anger was rising.       Dutch stared at Gina.  “Were you a member, Regina?” he asked her.

     Gina looked at him.  She actually had to think about it.  “I certainly attended some meetings.  And yeah, I think I was a member.”

     As soon as she confirmed that she was a member of a socialists group, Max dropped his head in disgust, shaking it.  Allison ran her hand through her long, blonde hair and tossed it behind her, murmuring “terrific,” as she did.  And Dutch, to Gina’s dismay, seemed to be riddled with concern.

     “What?” Gina asked him.  “It was just for a year, I didn’t even renew my membership.  I know this because it was dues-based and if you didn’t pay your dues you were dropped as a member.  What’s the big deal?”

     The look of concern on Dutch’s face made her think harder.  The USJ party.  United Socialists for Social Justice party.  Socialists.  As in
not capitalists
.  As in
un-American
.  Gina’s heart dropped.

     “Oh, Dutch,” she said.  “But it wasn’t about politics for me.”

     “Then why the hell did you have to join a political group if it wasn’t political?” Max asked this angrily and Dutch didn’t admonish him.  Which meant, to Gina, that he agreed with his chief of staff.

     “I joined for that one time because it was a social justice party,” she said.  “Because they believed in helping their neighbors, in doing all they could for their fellow man.  Because I never had any intentions of being a politician and therefore never had to worry about how it would look.  Because they believed in social justice!”

     “So you’re a socialist?” Max asked her.

     “No, I’m not a socialist!  I was just. . .”  She turned to Dutch, to get him to understand.  “I wasn’t thinking of it as a political party.  They helped the poor get good legal help.  And I would volunteer to help out.  That’s why we were protesting that professor.  When he was a politician he always would propose bills that would gut all kinds of legal aid for the poor.  But that was over fifteen years ago.  I was an idealistic kid.  I just liked what they stood for at the time.”  She stared at Dutch.  “Your opponents can’t use that against you, can they?”

     “They can and they will,” Max said.

     Dutch placed his hand on her shoulder.  “We’ll handle it.”

     “Is there anything else we need to know?” Allison asked her. 

     “What do you mean anything else?   I didn’t think it was going to be this.” 

     “This is Washington, lady,” Max started but Dutch interrupted him.

     “Okay, Max, that’s enough.  You’re upset, we’re all upset, but you will not talk to her that way, understand me?”

     Max nodded.  “Understood, sir.”

     “She doesn’t exist inside the beltway,” Dutch continued.  “Normal people with normal lives doesn’t think that what they did fifteen years ago, especially something of so little consequence, would matter now.”

     “They would think so if they were sleeping with the head of the beltway.”  Max said this and then seemed to regret it instantly.  He exhaled.

     “I apologize for that, Miss Lansing.”

     Gina ignored him.

     “Is there anything else you can think of, Gina?” Allison asked her.  “Anything else we need to know?”

     “Forget whether we need to know it or not,” Max said.  “Is there any other little nothing incident in your past that we need to be aware of?”

     “No.”

     “Think, Gina,” Max said.  “The worst thing that can happen is for this story to get legs by drips and drabs.”

     “It won’t gain any traction.  There’s nothing more to it.”

     “No other arrests?” Max asked her.

     Gina looked at him.  “Didn’t I say no?  No,” she said again.

     “Don’t look at me like that,” Max said.  “You should have told the president about USJ.  Now he’s got to clean up your mess.”

     “He doesn’t have to clean up anything of mine,” Gina said forcefully.  She was getting tired of Max’s arrogance.  “Now if his opponents want to paint me as some flaming socialist just because I joined a social justice group, then I don’t see where reasoning with people like that would matter.”

     “I agree,” Dutch said.  Gina looked at him.  “It’s all right,” he said, attempting to smile. 

     “Dutch, can we--” Max asked, motioning for him to get rid of Gina.

     “Yes,” Dutch said to Max and then looked at Gina.   “Max and Allison and I need to talk. Why don’t you go shower and dress so you won’t miss your plane.”

     “I didn’t even remember that incident, Dutch, I didn’t--”

     “I know,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.  “It’s going to be okay.  Just don’t worry about that now.”  He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.   Allison looked at Max.  Max shook his head.

     When Gina left the room, Dutch ran his hand through his hair,
tousling
it.  “Damn,” he said.

     “Damn is right,” Max said, standing and walking around the room.  “This is going to be blown all out of proportion, Dutch, and you know it.”

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