Page 186 of Drama Queen

“You’d better answer that,” Leonard told her.

Suddenly more nervous of talking to her than ever before, Grace stared at it for a moment longer, before Leonard’s long fingers once again took the choice from her, hitting accept before she could decline it.

“Start talking,” Grace said without preamble.

“How long since you’ve seen the news cycle?” Charlotte asked her.

“I’ve got CNN on right now,” Grace said in a flat voice. “You’re pregnant? Because you sure as fuck weren’t when we worked together. I would have scented it. And to the president of all the fucking people.”

Charlotte groaned. “David Carlington-Jones.” It was all she had to say, Grace knew what he was like.

“What did that little cunt do now? I swear by all that’s holy, as soon as my heat is over, I’m going to go out there and rip his fucking nuts off—” her voice cut off with a choked cry. “Someone shot a child? I haven’t been out of the loop for even a day, and the world falls apart?”

Yeah. That was the crux of the whole matter, wasn’t it? Everyone was talking about the wrong thing.

“She was six, Grace. A domestic house cat, and the bigoted bitch next door practically set it all up, only she’s senile, should have been in care a long time ago, and now she’ll never have to face the consequences for what she’s done.”

“Oh god,” Grace moaned. “And the cop too?”

Watching the news ticker across the bottom of her own screen, with the sound turned off, probably like Grace was, as she couldn’t actually hear the television, Charlotte watched as sensational headline after headline scrolled across the screen. They’d wanted the attention of the media and the world for sure, just not like this.

Her boss moaned again, and then finally sighed. “Alright, now give me your version of today.”

So, Grace did. She started with her sense of betrayal after Grace blew the opportunity, knowing for once that her boss was actually listening. She went through everything, fainting, the offer, her growing sense of confusion and being increasingly overwhelmed, the speech writing, moving house, the press conference, and then the sneak attack as they departed, including the gaffe of all gaffes. Finally she ended up with her exact situation, sitting on the floor in the large conference room, a still very naked president hovering nearby, and Dr Watson keeping an eye on them both.

“Is he still hard for you?” Grace asked, snickering.

Unable to stop herself from looking, Charlotte flushed when she saw the dick in question twitch and start to rise again.

“Oh god,” she muttered.

“I’ll take that as a good thing. Either he’s been listening to this the whole time with a painful hard-on — which serves him fucking right, the moron — or he’s reacting to you looking.”

“That,” Charlotte whispered.

Grace howled with laughter. “Girl, you gotta own it, and I’m not just talking about the dick waiting to pound you into next week. You’ve got to own it all. Your mistake, your heartache, your disappointment — all of it. You’re going to have to go out there and show your belly to these people, and if they stab you, you’re going to have to take it like a champ.”

Yep, that sounded just like how Grace would handle it too, except there was one problem with that. She wasn’t Grace.

"I can't do this,” Charlotte whined. “I can't be you. I'm not wired like that."

Grace growled down the line. "Don't try to fucking be me,” she snapped. “I’m fucking fabulous, but there’s only one of me. Besides, they won’t respect you for it.”

“That doesn’t make sense, I don’t have a way. I’m not the front person, I’m the one who comes behind you and clears up any confusion.”

“Charlotte,” Grace said, her tone deadly. “If the roles were reversed, if I had done something like this, fuck, take this morning as an example. I fucked up. What would you do? What would you have me do in an ideal world where I could get over my own shit and be a responsible leader. How would you roll this back?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I would have you do a solo press conference. Make a simple series of statements defining your current medical condition, or lack thereof. Announce that you had only found your fated mate the night before, and have witnesses to the fact. Then I’d let both barrels fly at how poorly the press has behaved, and where is their dignity and respect? I’d apologise profusely to the families inundated with trivia, while the very real issues facing them, were intruded upon by matters of no importance. I’d highlight how tragic the events of the night before were, and how shifters across the country grieved for them, even as they thought abouthow they could protect their young, vulnerable, and innocent children from ever experiencing anything like it. Finally I’d make an appeal to the nation, to ignore the lies, and focus on what really mattered — the safety of children. Then I’d call on Dr Watson to back me up with a statement saying that I am in fact not pregnant, nor have I ever been. That I have been under an incredible amount of stress for months, and that a single mistake should not be allowed to define what has thus far been an exemplary career.”

“Sounds pretty fucking perfect to me. That's what I'm telling you. You know this shit, you know what to do. So do it, but do it your way. Be you."

In a moment of clarity, Charlotte suddenly understood the woman on the other end of the line. Grace was a bulldozer, a hurricane, a natural fucking disaster. Yet she got shit done. She used bluster and bullshit to cover what she felt needed covering, and drew attention to what she knew needed to be discussed. She pushed constantly for reform, practically daring the human government to keep bumbling along. Grace was a woman doing the best she could in a world where despite all appearances to the contrary, women were still not equal. Women of colour even more so, and shifters? They barely registered as worth consideration.

Charlotte might not like how she did it, but Grace ensured her voice, and thus the unheard voices of countless people like her, were heard. She sighed, accepting the role she had to play tomorrow. Not Grace’s way, but her own, and with that acceptance, everything else seemed to fall into place.

This was the piece she had been missing. That acknowledgement of her own ability, the confidence in her willpower, and the means to stand up and make her voice heard. She couldn’t go back to being Grace’s assistant now, she knew that. Today, she had made a massive leap forward in her ownjourney. To what, she wasn’t sure, but she’d outgrown the life she was leading.

“It sounds to me like you have a speech to write, Charlotte,” Grace said gently. “And there’s one more thing you need to know before you write it.”

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