#Chapter6 The Secretary

This is bad. Very bad. I have no power in this situation, so I steel myself, knowing that looking like the prey I am will only worsen things. “I’ll call the police,” I threaten, knowing full well they would side with him. “We have no relationship anymore,” I remind him, wondering if that’s to my disadvantage since I could benefit from the forgiveness he might be willing to extend to his wife in this moment. Cold and resolute, I grasp for the only real, possible leverage I could have: his image. “If you don’t want to make the news,” I lower my voice to what I hope is intimidating, “you’ll stay away from me.” Then I take advantage of Aaron’s shock, unlocking the door as I pull the strap of my dress back into place and escape the bathroom in a hurry. I weave through the hallway, easily passing between people like I’m invisible as I fall back into the shadow I’ve worn for so long. I slow my steps the farther I get from the bathroom, knowing that I, too, have appearances to upkeep. So I lock down my muscles, keeping my fear and anxiety from showing outwardly. I can’t believe I slapped Aaron. People who have crossed him before have ended up as street wanderers. Now that he no longer needs me to keep his home and care for Ruby, now that he has no use for me, will he take revenge for that slap? I meander around the museum aimlessly, realizing that though I may be untethered from the Moon House and Ruby, who I try not to think about too much for fear of breaking down sobbing in the middle of the gala, I’m still part of a team. A new team. A team that would be impacted negatively if Aaron takes revenge on me. It’s a complicated situation though, and I’m not sure if I should confess what just happened to my boss. A hand on my arm startles me, and I flinch as I imagine Aaron pulling me out of the gala to exact his revenge – whatever that may be. “Mae.” The familiar voice is full of concern, but it doesn’t belong to Aaron. I turn toward the handsome man with blond hair and hazel eyes. His strong jaw tics as he looks me over, clearly noticing my distress despite my best efforts to hide it. He pulls me into a quiet corner for privacy. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his hand tenderly cradling my forearm. I swallow my fear, peeking behind me to search the crowd for threats that aren’t there. “Hey,” he captures my attention again. “You’re safe. Whatever’s going on, I’ve got your back.” He rubs my arms affectionately. “Besides, the Mae I know can handle anything.” He offers a reassuring smile, and I finally begin to unbind my muscles. I look over this man I’ve known since college. Just a year ahead of me, Henry Whitmore came from one of the political families my father was always cozying up to. Now the Alpha of a large park, Henry has become a strong candidate for the Werewolf Presidency. He’s been inviting me to work with him for so long, even after I initially declined – though I never explained why. Henry knows I’m divorced but not that my ex-husband is the damn president. It has been an easy truth to keep concealed thanks to how well Aaron kept me hidden all these years. One of the few perks of being considered a shameful part of his life. I could say I keep his secret to protect my career: Aaron is powerful, and people might not want to work with me if they’re afraid of retribution from him. But the truth is probably closer to me being embarrassed that the person who was supposed to love me more than anyone was instead so ashamed of me that he went to extreme lengths to hide the wife of someone as famous as the Werewolf President. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m his ex-wife now. Nodding as I breathe into Henry’s reassuring smile, I offer what little information I can. “I may have accidentally stirred up some trouble with my ex.” After only a brief pause, Henry nods his strong jaw in understanding. “Your business is your own, and I can understand that you might not want to divulge personal information to your employer.” I smile gratefully. “Besides,” he shrugs casually, “I trust you.” My chest heaves at his words that I can’t remember having directed my way by anyone else. With a respectful hand on my elbow, Henry guides me back into the event, dipping his head to speak above the noise of the gala chatter. “That investment you secured for me, for my campaign – it only took you a few weeks to solve a huge problem. I’m confident we can handle any opponent together.” He winks at me, another reassuring smile on his face as the stage in the main room lights up in front of us. Along with everyone else at the gala, we turn our attention to Aaron as he takes the stage for the President’s address. Aaron begins, voice booming through the speakers placed around the museum as he greets the audience. “Friends, competitors,” he smiles playfully as the crowd laughs, “and fellow Lacertians.” I’ve only ever seen his speeches on TV, and it amazes me how immensely more charming he appears in person. Even with the cold edge and dark humor of his speech style, his persuasive magnetism lightens the mood in the museum. Like always, he appears distant and arrogant – not like he was just slapped in the women’s bathroom by his Omega ex-wife. Aaron prattles on, and though I’m unable to pay much attention, I notice the approval on the faces of those around us. Henry grabs a few champagne flutes from a passing tray, handing me one as he dips his head again to whisper to me. “President Kensington will be our biggest competitor in the race.” I grip my flute nervously at the idea of going head-to-head with my ex-husband and mate. Aaron pauses long enough to catch my attention, and I tune back into his speech as his tone shifts. “I appreciate everyone’s support as we work together to serve Lacertia, and for your trust in me to protect and nurture our great nation. It is important to have a leader who upholds and exemplifies Lacertian values: discipline, loyalty, and responsibility. An impulsive, wild, immoral leader would only cause chaos for everyone else to clean up.” Cameras flash as Aaron clearly and directly lands his gaze pointedly on Henry. Knowing the cameras are also capturing my face right next to him, I keep my expression neutral as I balk internally. Aaron just hinted to Henry’s promiscuous reputation that’s in the tabloids every other week. Without mentioning his name, he implied that he would be a terrible leader. The thinly veiled insult was clarified for anyone who missed it with Aaron’s challenging stare that’s still fixed on Henry. If Aaron is allowed to continue speaking, his insult will undermine all the work our team has done since before I joined to get Henry into the presidential race. But if Henry says something, it’ll be written off as a pathetic defense that only confirms Aaron’s words. Aaron opens his mouth to continue, but I’m quicker, raising my voice to be heard throughout the museum without a microphone. “I have a question for the Werewolf President.” Aaron’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes narrowing as every head in the room spins to look at me. “You describe yourself as a proud father to your daughter, Ruby,” I continue before I can be cut off, “yet no one has ever seen Ruby’s mother. No president in Lacertia’s history has hidden his wife from the public, so how are you any different from the so-called ‘immoral’ men you criticize? Are you ashamed of your wife?” The press scattered around are eating up my question, cameras swinging to take pictures of the woman daring enough to ask it, then back to capture the president’s reaction. He looks as arrogant and confident as always, and I know I’m the only who can see his mind churning. I did this for my job, for Henry’s campaign. But I’m sure from Aaron’s twisted perspective, he’s replaying my threat to his image if he didn’t stay away from me. And now it looks like I’m demonstrating how easy it would be for me to shatter it. Aaron chuckles calmly, his voice much louder than mine through the speakers as he responds. “My wife is simply shy.” He looks me over in a way that only I know is a challenge. “But she’s ready to meet the public soon.” The room erupts at that, the media clamoring with follow-up questions. Henry quickly pulls me aside, thanking me for what I did. “The tabloid rumors are mostly exaggerations and slander,” he explains. I nod confidently, reassuring him like he did for me earlier. “It won’t be a big deal.” We’re not able to say much else before Emma pops up at our sides. It’s still strange to see her after eight years of her disappearance, followed by the past two months of avoiding her and Aaron. “Henry, darling,” she air-kisses him. “How bold of you to bring a mistress,” she looks me over condescendingly, “to such a formal event.” With a professional hand barely grazing my shoulder, Henry is quick to clarify. “Mae is actually my new secretary, the one responsible for securing the investment that has cemented my position as a presidential candidate.” Then he looks at Emma with controlled respect as he firmly asserts, “I’m sure you can understand why I won’t tolerate anyone insulting such an important member of my team.” A woodsy scent tickles my nose, and I look up to find Aaron who has somehow made it through the media masses just in time to hear Henry’s words. Then he stares right at me.