The Queen's Bee

That left a lot more drinking to do if he was gonna get his money’s worth. “I love Republicans,” he said. He stretched a couple fingers off his glass, in the direction of the bartender’s tip jar. Empty. Nothing but nickels and dimes. “They say no handouts, and they mean it.” 

She made her way to the bar and sat down on a chair when someone next to her spoke up. Celia’s eyes followed where the guy was gesturing and felt a smile slip onto her lips. “They tend to stick very closely to their word.” When she turned to face him, she wasn’t quite able to place him. She replied as she took a sip of her drink. “Does that mean you’re not a republican or one that can at least identify their flaws?” 

She liked to sit outside on the stairs over looking the mall as it got closer to 7am, watching the aides and interns and school groups rush about and sometimes stop to marvel in the grandness of it all. They were still new to the Speaker’s office, even though the months had felt like years, and Alba hoped she wasn’t easily recognizable to the press quite yet. Sipping her coffee in the early morning sun, Alba almost relaxed, until she felt someone take a seat next to her.

“No, I will not be answering any questions about JonBenét. Don’t even ask.”

It was 7:30 when she made it to the White House and walked through to her office. There she dropped off her stuff and went to get herself a coffee. She was tempted to go outside for a smoke but stifled the urge as she was trying to stop that habit. Nonetheless, it was a lovely morning so she decided to head out. That’s when she saw Alba sat there, admiring the many visitors to their workplace. 

Alba’s remark made her smile as she sat down next to her friend. “Oh, and why is that? Did someone make a mean comment about it or have you been reading hours of Twitter again?” Celia replied as she lifted her coffee to her lips. “How have you been? It has felt like ages!”

“I know I am,” Elise replies, confident as ever, as she takes a sip from her coffee. Celia was right, it’s just how she likes it– scalding hot, and not too sweet. “That’s not the issue,” she continues. “It’s every one of these fucking idiots talking about how I’m Julian’s beard.” Her anger isn’t directed at Celia, per se, but it has to land somewhere. She just happens to be the closest target, and the person whose job it is to fix this. Well, her and Rory. Which reminds her:

“When are you meeting with Rory? Or is it Felix?” Elise shrugs. She can’t keep track of who does what for Julian anymore. They’ve come a long way from their time in the Senate. “I’d like to get my Vogue cover sorted out sooner rather than later,” she says, referring to the offer they’d received several months back about the First Lady gracing an issue. “Perhaps we can announce the twins then. If the timing’s right,” she adds, reluctantly.

Celia repressed a smirk as she just let Elise take the credit like she normally did, with pride. When she’d just started working for Elise she made a note to remember her coffee order. As a mother of two young children AND being the First Lady, Elise had a lot on her plate which sometimes could be made a little easier when there was a nice, hot cup of caffeine waiting. “Well, when something big like this happens people first need to vent about it and that comes in all shapes and forms, like writing things like that.” Celia found Elise’s words sharp and cutting but she knew they weren’t targeted at her.

“I’ll be meeting with her today. She first wanted to speak to Julian too, as I am now doing with you.” Celia replied to Elise’s question. As soon as Elise started talking further, Celia scribbled along and started writing notes. “I’ll e-mail them in a second to get that sorted right away. It would probably be a good idea to get you out in the press so you can speak but maybe after most of this mania has calmed down.” Celia paused. “I don’t want anyone thinking you’re jumping the gun because you two have things to hide.”

Celia nodded along as she listened to Elise. “I’ll get back to you on that and we can make a topics list that I can send to Vogue about matters you’d like to talk about.” She stopped writing and looked up at Elise again. “I’ll mention it to Rory about what she thinks, maybe it would be best if you and Julian are able to go somewhere together so the news is heard from both of you as a couple.”

“Ah, a very DC answer of you, fair enough.” Eric murmured, chuckling to himself as his cigarette held on for dear life between his lips. He wouldn’t begrudge her it, information was power around these parts and especially for the women, you had to take what you can get. He took another deep drag, almost looking remorseful that his butt was getting so small.

At her comment at working with miserable people, his blue eyes glinted with mirth in the afternoon sun and he dropped his butt. It crushed under the tip of his polished shoe and he shrugged with a smirk. “Maybe the miserable sod is me.”

“And maybe you’re right, but sometimes reality doesn’t matter as much as perceptions.” He could have left then and there, but he didn’t, his eyes just focused on her as if there was nothing else around. It was a mix of genuine curiosity, he didn’t often get much wift from the first ladies east wing in his work, and of course mild attraction. It was hard to deny she was beautiful and she had some charm to her too.

“So are you about to run off for a meeting or will you enjoy some more sun with me?”

Celia laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. I can tell your roots are in Law and not in our DC kind of business.” She replied at his words, a smile still present on her lips. Her cigarette was coming to its very end as she inhaled a few times before pressing it out in a nearby dish. 

Her eyes slid over to his as she shook her head. “I very highly doubt that.” She replied as she tried to figure him out. He seemed so sophisticated and calm, it made her wonder what was going inside his head. 

“That is very very true. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a job.” Celia debated on what to do next. She wasn’t really quite ready to leave the conversation because it was fun talking to someone outside of the East Wing. Refreshing and different, probably because he does a very different kind of job. So when he asked her if she was staying, she already knew her answer.

“I’d love to. I just can’t smoke another one but I will definitely stay to enjoy a little bit more of the sun with you.”

“Lifesaver,” Elise replies, accepting the coffee gratefully, though her tone devoid of its usual cheeriness. It’d been a long evening, between the debates and the after-party and the argument with Julian that followed; it isn’t an exaggeration. She watches as Celia settles into her usual chair in the First Lady’s office, debating whether or not she should tell her about it. Even in front of her own staff, even with Celia, the closest thing she has to a friend anymore, she doesn’t want to appear weak.

“You tell me,” she adds, sipping the coffee gingerly. “I can’t keep hiding twins forever, but are we really going to announce it when every news outlet in the fucking world is digging up photos of every one of Julian’s exes?” She can’t hide the exasperation in her tone. Even if her argument with Julian is resolved, and they’re back on the same page they’ve always been, she’ll be damned if she lets his announcement get in the way of her own. 

Celia watched Elise as she thanked her but without the kind of warmth she normally possessed. Elise made an excellent First Lady for that reason, she radiated something that seemed soft and kind. This lady next to her now looked like she’d been through one hell of a ride. Long evenings and the commotion that had broken loose as soon as Julian directly answered the question about his sexuality, Celia could see it was weighing Elise down or keeping her up at night. Maybe that were the children. 

Elise’s words were no surprise to Celia in any way. “I understand that you feel like that but you’re doing a great job,” She replied as she smiled softly to Celia. “I’ll reach out to Julian’s CEO to see what their plan is for this and then we can agree how to tactfully announce the news.” She continued, scribbling down a note for herself.

“I think it’s important that the news of the babies is received well and not seen as some kind of cover-up.” Celia finished as she looked up at Elise. “Alright, any plans for your cause yet or any other plans for this week that you want to fit in?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take up any of your time.” Laurel took her time to examine the young woman in front of her, the proposition to help her find her way so strange in a sea of busy people, if she wasn’t for her good, business-like looks, she’d think she was about to get robbed. Or maybe it was bold of her to assume she wasn’t, no matter what the other person looked like.

However, the alternative was to never find her destination, or find it when it was too late, and face the wrath of her boss and the people who were sure to be waiting for her papers. The last thing she needed was to build a bad impression to early in the game, still feeling like everything she did was being examined in a microscope, minutely checked and reviewed to see if she’d fuck up. There were likely a long row of senator’s daughters (and sons) to fill up her position if she couldn’t handle it.

So, Laurel took an intake of air from between her teeth and smiled, politely thanking the younger blonde. “Thank you, I really owe you one.” She waited for the young lady to start walking, sneaking a look at her badge to figure out her name, but decided it best to just ask. “I’m Laurel, nice to meet you…?”

“Yes, of course. It’s no trouble.” Celia immediately replied as she waved her hand in the air, as if she could waft the words away. “I just got off work and I have really no problems with helping someone out.” 

Celia could understand that it might seem strange to some people to be so willing to help others, but she’d lived here her whole life. She’s been only holidays many times and so often having a friendly face helping to guide you makes everything so much easier. Also, she was either just going to go out for dinner with her friends or sit at home. Either way, a little bit of a delay wasn’t going to hurt anyone. 

Smiling back, Celia motioned for Laurel to follow her as they crossed the street and walked around the opposite side. Shrugging, she replied: “It’s really not a problem. I can only imagine how long it would otherwise take you and now we can both get going in ten or fifteen minutes.” 

“Celia,” She replied, turning around and offering her hand, “Celia Bosworth.”

“Only the ones with the looks to earn it.” Eric returned easily, smiling faintly at his own double entendre as he drew his coat closer against the growing winds. He never knew how the women did it, standing outside in dresses and heels when the world was so inconvenient most days. The price of beauty he supposed, though perhaps there will one day be a time where such matters are considered trivial for both sexes. 

“You didn’t answer though.” He pointed out, taking another drag and blowing out an artful swirl of smoke. He’d been smoking ever since his divorce and while he was fully aware he was killing himself, it didn’t really seem much of an issue. Suicidal wasn’t the term Eric would use, but it wasn’t exactly like he had dependents. When he dropped down dead was really immaterial, he was focused on just enjoying the time he had. Though then again, his mind wandered to all the work he did and for a second, he noted his own hypocrisy. Can’t even follow my own ethos, eh?

The lawyer blinked at the beign question. Most of the time political operators were a little more…intense with their questioning, Celia’s innocence rather compelling in its sincerity. He takes a moment to answer, glancing up at the passing clouds. “Don’t think I’ve been asked that in a long while. It’s…eventful, long…filled with things to do that don’t always matter a whole lot.”

“Pretty badly, but that’s most days, the white house doesn’t leave many prisoners.” His blue eyes slid over to consider the youngster again, raising a single brow.

“And you?”

Celia felt strangely flattered at his compliment, mainly because she didn’t expect it. It was only also at that moment that she stopped to think about them, sat here together just the two of them. Before it felt no stranger but suddenly the moment and setting of the garden felt slightly more intimate. She didn’t let her thoughts get any further than that as she wiggled her toes in her pointed heels. Closing her eyes for a second, Celia enjoyed a few rays of the sun as she let her thoughts slip away. A secretive smile still managed to slip on her lips while she did just so.

“Maybe I didn’t want to,” She answered back, just as quickly. Opening an eye, she cast a glance towards him. Her cigarette was burning away while they talked and she was getting to her final few drags. Celia was continuously considering to stop so she decided that this would be her last one for the rest of the day, trying to make sure she wouldn’t smoke one in the evening. Sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to increase her fertility rate. Or so that’s what her mom kept telling her as she wafted the smoke away from around her, making Celia laugh. 

His honesty was quite unusual and also his bluntness to her question. It made her smile and feel at ease as well. She could easily tell why he made such a good lawyer. Somehow he managed to pull off his own self and his character in an unapologetic way that made one feel at ease, wanting to open up as well. “Well, you must work with miserable old sods then.” She replied, a chuckle escaping her lips. “I can’t believe that’s true. You seem to do the kind of work that helps small things and then right at the end they’re the most vital parts.”

Laurel remembers the only other time she ever set foot in the White House. It is one of the most vivid memories from her childhood, flying from Boston to D.C. with her middle school class to visit this legendary place. Now, while she had a badge around her neck and stood some feet taller, with the added bonus of her heels, she still felt the same awe as she did then. And, she was also lost.

Head buried on her phone, she was trying to figure out where she was supposed to go when she felt her body colliding with another, the shock being the only thing that compelled her to look up. “Oh no, it was my fault.” She shook the phone in front of the blonde and shrugged, apologetically. “This things make us forget there’s other people around us. I’m sorry.” Laurel offered a warm smile, expecting the interaction to be over but she followed the girl’s gaze to her phone and let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed. “Well, I need to drop off these papers from the Senate,” she chewed on her lips. “But I can’t find the communications office for the life of me.”

The lady in front of her seemed like the kind that Celia worked with. Older, sophisticated, articulate. She looked like the entire package. Because she looked so much the part, it surprised Celia that she didn’t know where she was going. She smiled as she pushed her bag up onto her shoulder. “It’s no problem, these things happen.” 

Celia laughed as this lady mentioned her phone. “Oh, I definitely know. Half of the tourist that come here are completely absorbed.” She said as she motioned to the device in her hand. Celia could tell that the lady hadn’t thought that she’d offer her any help but Celia figured that was the least she could do. “Oh, yes.” Celia replied, “That happens a lot. The office is on the other side of the White House. The street names are almost identical so Google normally sends you to this one.”

“That’s coincidentally in the building where I work, I can take you to the office if you like?” Celia figured it was the least she could do. Otherwise, this lady was probably never going to find it.

Eric, of course, hadn’t much memory of his speech to the Columbia Law school graduating class all those years ago, back when he still worked at New York. Certainly not enough to remember a young blonde in attendance, even if his eyes were certainly on her right now. He nodded in thanks, lighting up the non-filtered end and breathing in a long deep drag. God, it felt good. His eyes fluttered shut and he just let the smoke fill his lungs like a dark grimly plague. The wrongness was part of what felt so enthralling about it. It kept him sharp and presence, especially when the workday dragged on, which felt like most days.

“Seem a bit young for a Chief of Staff, how old are you?” He asked with his signature bluntness, eyes flickering to her. It was hard to gauge her. Her makeup and demeanour spoke to an older wisdom that her perfectly smooth skin belied. Not that Eric really cared about her age, but there was no harm in getting to know someone better, especially if they’re around the FLOTUS. Who knows when Mrs Berkeley could land in her own legal quagmires. 

“Either way smoking kills you know, you should quit.” Eric offered the last line with a smirk that underlined it as a joke despite his serious tone, before taking another deep inhale of his own cigarette and then tipping the ash away onto the grass beneath his shoes.

Celia watched him as he enjoyed his smoke. She found that the nicotine relaxed her and took the edge of her day, but it was definitely more of a habit than anything. At times she thought she should definitively put an end to it but always seemed to change her mind at the last moment. It all depended on what kind of future she wanted to have... That was a thought for another time. 

His bluntness made her smile as she thought about all the previous times she’d been asked that. It was true, she was rather young for her position but so was Elise and she felt like that had been one of the reasons why Elise had picked her. To have someone around her own age in the office definitely brought a different dynamic. She looked at him as she took a drag of her cigarette. “I guess.” She replied before countering his question, “Is that what you ask all the women you meet?” A glint in her eyes revealing her cheeky sarcasm.

“Yes, yes. You’re right about that.” Celia replied with a smile again. It was odd to see someone who seemed so serious so casually funny. It suited him though. “So, how’s your day been so far?” She replied, nodding to his cigarette, “How badly did you need to get out here for that?”

11am, White House | @celia-bosworth

There are a few things that are difficult in the White House beyond the usual avoiding of daggers and snoops. One rather overlooked aspect was how now, thanks to the admirable desires of one Hilary Rodham Clinton, smoking was banned across the whole building. There was one place left for the designated cancer producers, a dingy little concrete house in a hidden part of the Presidential gardens, that offered very little in the way of comfort.

Yet like crazed cultists, the smokers ventured so far out of their way for a magic little puff anyway. Eric was no different. Smoking had been a habit since his legal days, nothing like the neverending bliss of nicotine to get through an endlessly night of legal worries and tribulations and his life had only gotten more stressful since. 

As he stepped through the finely trimmed yard to the smoking spot, his eyes caught a fellow addict and he slowed down, his blue gaze pinning the woman down. She was recognisable though it took him a heartbeat to recognise her. “Celia right? Mrs Berkeley’s staff?”

The sun was shining through the trees as she stepped outside, stretching like a cat who’d just gotten up from its nap. Taking out a cigarette, she lit it up and walked slowly through the roses. Her hand ran delicately over the petals as she forced herself not to think about work so she could completely destress. She was taken out of her thoughts as the door opened up behind her. Celia paid it no thought until she heard someone behind her. 

Her almond-shaped eyes met the steely gaze of Eric Rush. You didn’t have to be anyone to know who he was. She remembered him being a guest speaker at her graduation, well, not her ceremony but the Law ceremony that was held in the next room over. She remembered seeing him from afar and hearing his voice, he sounded a lot rougher then. Not quite so polished as he did now. Her gaze followed his smoke and as she met his gaze with a soft smile. 

“Yes, that’s right, Mr. Rush,” Celia replied, tapping her cigarette, “Not at all. It’s a lovely late morning. It would be a shame to miss it.”