Page 178 of Drama Queen

“Did you have a miscarriage?” a third person asked.

“Are you people stupid? Or just not listening. There is no baby, there was no baby, there will be no baby.”

“Is it you or the president who has fertility issues?” the same person pressed.

Charlotte shook her head. “This is why you weren’t allowed into the press conference. You’re not real reporters. You’re not even listening to what I’m saying, just grabbing your soundbites in order to twist everything that I’m saying. My relationship with the president is a purely, working professional one. That’s it, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Then why did the president meet with you privately, before introducing you to the cabinet?” David asked.

Okay, now that was a real question, and one she had to answer.

“The president had to convey confidential information necessary for me to make a judgement call on whether I would be willing to act as Grace’s pro tem. It was not information the cabinet was aware of, and it was not something they needed to know. He told me what he needed, and I made my decision. That was all there was to it.”

“But afterwards he carried you in his arms when you arrived in the conference room with other witnesses,” David persisted.

The rest of the press had fallen silent, keen on hearing her answer. She could even see some of the larger networks now recording in the background. This was a disaster! Theywere totally off the topic, and the important message Charlotte needed everyone to walk away with, was being cast aside for some fabricated gossip. Despite that, she desperately wanted to know who his source was, because they knew enough to get some facts right, just the whole picture.

“When we rose to return to the room, I fainted,” Charlotte said simply. “It had been a highly stressful day, and I clearly had not had enough protein in my breakfast. He carried me into the other room where I was given something to eat and drink, and then the president briefed us on the horrific incident of the night before.”

“Did you faint because of the pregnancy?” someone asked into the silence.

Shutters hammered away at her last nerve.

“I’m not fucking pregnant, because I haven’t had sex in over a year!” Charlotte shouted in reply, regretting it instantly. “Can we please talk about things that actually matter, rather than David’s conspiracy theories and cheap attempts to smear my reputation. Two children died needlessly today. Why can’t we focus on making a world where that doesn’t happen again?”

David didn’t need to try for a shit quote anymore, she’d just given them all a fantastic one. How did Grace do it? How did she bluster and bumble through all of this noise, and come out squeaky clean on the other side?

Oh yeah, it was because she had Charlotte to clean up after her. It was definitely something she couldn't ask Fitz to do. She wasn’t sure the poor man would cope getting in front of a camera, nevermind the intrusive and insensitive way the press dealt with things.

Rather than wait for the next inane question, Charlotte strode quickly down the carpet and into the car, only relaxing once Sean had closed the door.

The president was watching her warily. “Are you alright?” he finally asked.

“No,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “No, I’m not alright at all. I just fucked up big time, bigger than Grace ever did, and I’ve no idea how to walk it back. Everything we might have possibly achieved there, has now been forgotten. All they’re going to focus on now, is the potential drama that David fucking started to get back at me. Fuck I hate that man!”

“Why do you even let him have any of your attention?”

“Because he’s like a two-year-old. He just escalates and escalates until he gets what he wants. We found the quickest way to get rid of him was to answer his questions, make him look stupid, and then move on.”

“I think it’s a bit more than that, don’t you? His dislike for you seemed very personal to me.”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know him. Have someone look into it if you're really worried. I’m going to get Fitz to look into a restraining order next week, this is ridiculous. What we need to focus on is where he’s getting his information from. Some of those questions were too well informed.”

“Indeed, although I think I have an answer for that already, and you’re not going to like it.”

There was nothing he could tell her that would make her day any worse.

Then he opened his mouth and proved that thought wrong.

“I was watching through the car window, it’s glazed, so they can’t see in, but I could very clearly see who was in that crowd. The second voice to start asking stupid questions belonged to a face we both know.”

“Bonny,” she said, already putting the pieces together.

“Bonny,” he agreed.

“Well, she can kiss that rotating internship goodbye, and any sort of reference. I’m assuming she signed a non-disclosure agreement when she started working there?”

“She did, but there’s a clause about being a whistle-blower that I’m going to have the legal team look over. We need to ensure any loopholes are closed before we hang her out to dry.”

---