Epilog

Epilog

Just a little over six years later, Reagan sat behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office, a desk she loved to run her fingers across. It was a part of history, and now historians would be writing about her. It was said the desk was made from the salvage of a nineteenth century ship. She was trying to focus on her paperwork, thinking about who could whip up the votes she needed to get her budget passed, but was as easily distracted as always.

Sitting there with her legs crossed, a four-inch heel dangling from her toes, she tried to concentrate. Her husband, the First Gentleman, stood behind her, one hand resting on the back of her chair, as he whispered council into her ear. Still, it was hard to get any work done with the racket going on across the room.

She let out a long sigh as she looked out at the people arguing. Her chief of staff ,and sister-in-law, Eva, stood up, her arms gesticulating, as she raised her voice. Reagan looked over her outfit, a knee-length dress with spaghetti straps, inappropriate for the office, if not covered by the fitted blue blazer.

They had been friends for years, but over the last six years they had grown so much closer that Eva really did feel like another sister - a bratty, bossy sister that still acted like she was in charge even after Reagan won the highest office in the land. The President reasoned that someone, Eva, should be around to call her on her bullshit. While Eva was merely adequate in debate back in college, she still loved to argue.

The fact that Ryan Davis refused to engage only made her more furious. The young man, once Reagan’s analyst and trusted advisor, had not been idle. He was the junior Senator for the state of New York, all without having to make the same sacrifices she had to. Part of Reagan hated that, the jealous part, but another loved it for him. The perky green-eyed blonde, with the stripper name, Candace, and him tied the knot. It was an opulent wedding, paid for by the girl’s father, some muckety-muck at Megacorp. He was supposedly going to be the mayor or whatever of the corporate town the massive corporation was building.

Today, the bespectacled man wore a charcoal gray suit, with a dark blue button-up, and a black tie to pull it all together. Reagan thought about the many pantsuits of a similar color that hung in her closet. When Ryan told Reagan about his desire to run for office, Reagan joked that it was his time to learn to walk in heels. The young man begged Reagan not to bring up the idea again, or Candi, his fiance at the time, might insist he actually do it, just because she thought it might be fun. He was visiting the office this day to discuss Reagan’s agenda, and to see which stalwarts in the Senate were still refusing to give ground.

Then there was his Press Secretary, Emily Brooks, who fit in perfectly behind the podium, keeping the jackals in the press at bay. The pretty bottle blonde sat in the room, looking oblivious to the chaos going on around her, as she touched a pen to her lips, thinking about the best way to phrase the next statement. Reagan wasn’t sure how exactly, but the unflappable girl didn’t show any signs when she was grilled by the press. It was hard to believe Emily could handle her role so proficiently, only graduating with a bachelors in political science just a few years before.

It was also hard for Reagan to believe the pretty girl in her calf-length skirt, fitted ivory blouse, and nude heels had been assigned male at birth. She remembered the first time she and Eva met her at an upscale hotel, the Ahuva Bahyeet, in California. It was Reagan’s first year in office, and Emily was working the counter. She gushed to Eva how Reagan had been an inspiration for her and her friends, before she went on to explain she was majoring in political science, all because of the then Senator. After learning more, Eva latched onto the girl, who Reagan recalled had brown hair at the time, decorated with some blonde highlights. The girl didn’t know it, but her talk of creating a better future all while accepting the hand she was dealt resonated with Reagan. At that time Reagan had stopped rattling the shackles she had been **** into, but accepting it was much harder.

Emily had been dealt a much harder life - a father in jail, a mother that was supportive, scrapping by with a respectable enough job, but far from thriving, and even that hadn’t always been the case. The girl ran with a rough crowd in her youth, experiencing some lasting consequences from her behaviour. She helped Reagan accept the good parts of her life, even if there was a price. For that, Reagan and Eva guilted Elias into creating a scholarship fund for those working community service. Volunteering for political campaigns was of course on the list of approved activities.

Taking a deep breath, Reagan attempted to return to the work at hand, circling one name, then crossing out another.

“Fuck this guy in particular, and lets see if we can put a wedge between him and him.”

While the task might have been frustrating, the smile in Reagan’s eyes betrayed her true feelings, as her husband snuck a kiss on her cheek.

“Divide and conquer.” Elias said, tapping the paperwork. He stood up straight, speaking loud enough for the young Senator to hear over his shouting little sister. “Hey, Davis, do you need a donation for your next campaign? I got a way for you to earn it.”

Ryan shot a sideways glance to the man leaning over the President. His very presence irritated him. He believed the wealthy man shouldn’t be in the oval office with all his conflicts of interest. He really believed the man should have put his business in a trust while his wife held the highest office, but the country had forgotten that principle long before.

Before he could respond, he had to end the tirade coming in his direction from Eva. “Huh… You know you actually make some good points. I don’t fully agree, but… yeah you might be right.”

“Of course I’m right, and you just giving in isn’t fooling any…”

The auburn-haired woman stopped talking, as Ryan held out his phone with a picture of his adorable baby.

“Candi wanted to know if you wanted to come over to see the little one.” Ryan inquired, straightfaced as always.

Snatching the phone from his hand, Eva scrolled to the next photo, then the next. “Senator Davis, you do not play fair.”

Ryan shook his head, a little grin sneaking through.

“You seem to be getting everything. Me admitting you have some good points, you get to look at cute baby pics, and you get an invitation to spend time with my beautiful if exhausted wife. What I get is a break from…” he waved his hand between the Arnault Siblings, “...this… you…”

The sour glare from Eva didn’t deter him, as she turned her attention back to his phone. With that taken care of he could properly respond to Eva’s brother.

“No, I’m good. No need for capital.”

Elias worked his jaw from side to side. He didn’t like being ignored. It especially irritated him because the attention, he felt should be his, was being directed at his sister. Still, seeing how he handled Eva had been amusing enough.

“Neeeeed.” Elias dragged out the word. “How about want? Do you want a substantial campaign donation?”

Reagan looked up to her man, lacing her fingers through his.

“No need to handle him, my king.” Reagan said, giving his hand a squeeze. She shouted across the room to her old friend, “Ryan, how would you like to ruin some old racists’ day?”

It was two years into Reah Arnault’s presidency and she was already set to be praised in the history books for lifting the country up. The people connected so strongly with her that they elected a junior senator who had yet to complete one full term. She even managed to switch parties to do so without acquiring the most derisive label a politician could wear, “Flip-flopper”. In such a short time, President Arnault had done more for the people of the country than anyone else in recent times, even if she truly was only doing it for herself.