“All right, I think that’s enough for tonight. Why don’t you all go home and we can regroup in the morning.”
Interns and aides get to their feet, a chorus of mumbled good night Mr. President, following in their wake as they file out of the office.
Oliver brings up the rear and closes the door behind them.
“I thought I just told you to go home,” Josh says as he organizes the papers on his desk.
“You should know me better than that,” Oliver says as he crosses the room, cutting straight across the seal and ignoring the sharp Wolf from Josh. He rounds Josh’s desk and pushes at his knee. “Move.”
“Mr. President,” Josh reminds him.
“Josh,” Oliver counters and Josh rolls his eyes.
“No respect for authority,” he says but he moves his leg so Oliver can open the bottom drawer.
“You knew that when you begged me to join your team four years ago.”
“I don’t remember begging.”
“You’re right,” Oliver says as he pulls a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the drawer. “I must be thinking of that time we went to Cabo on spring break.”
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