"Speaking of which, is there a reason you keep updating us and not Sheehan?" Calix asked.
Coulson sighed. "Not an official one."
"How about you give us the unofficial one?" Del asked with a sharp undertone.
"This is speculation, Mr. President. Conjecture on my part. But I suspect Sheehan doesn't want to be the official face of this investigation so that if things go wrong and someone gets the blame, it won't be him."
"So if we were dissatisfied with the investigation, we'd fire you, not him," Calix said.
"That's my guess, but as I said, I'm not sure. All I know is that he's happily agreed to let others brief you, including the DNI in your daily presidential briefing, Ella Yung as your national security advisor, and me for other updates. That suggests he's trying to stay as invisible as possible."
Del sighed. "That's not entirely without cause. My predecessors have been known to take out their frustration on people like him, getting them fired or demoted. Anyway…" He looked around the room. "Anything else?"
No one spoke up.
"That's it, then. Thanks, everyone," Del said.
"Thank you, Mr. President," they said in chorus as they walked out.
Del gestured at Calix to stay behind, and he suppressed a sigh. He had an idea what Del wanted to discuss, and he didn't like it one bit. He stayed silent. If Del wanted to bring it up, he'd have to do it himself. Calix had no intention of making this easy for him.
"I've informed the Office of Presidential Personnel that effective immediately, Rhett Foles works directly for me. That means he's no longer under your supervision."
Calix's gawped. That was about the last thing he had expected. "Why?"
Del quirked an eyebrow. "Really? You want me to explain this? After what happened Friday?"
"Rhett and I are friends. Hell, we're still in the very early stages of friendship. I know it's a bit of a gray area, since I'm technically his boss, but I would think you have enough faith in me to know I'd never abuse my position."
"Cal, you're not technically his boss. You are his boss. At least, you were. And of course I wouldn't suggest you'd ever abuse that position, but there's a reason boss-employee relationships are prohibited or heavily frowned upon. The power imbalance that's at play complicates things to no end."
Calix rubbed his neck, digging his thumb into a pressure point so hard he had to suppress a wince. "Even in a friendship? Don't you think that's a bit premature and, I don't know, overreacting?"
Del leaned against his desk, his arms crossed as he studied Calix. "No, but I can understand it would seem that way to you."
"You don't have the time to directly supervise anyone. It's ridiculous."
"I'm sure I can manage one photographer, especially one who's so easy to work with as Rhett." Del's tone was still deceptively neutral, but Calix recognized the signs he was getting close to the line where Del would stop tolerating his pushback. It might be a thin line, ambiguous and gray, but this time, he feared he was rapidly approaching it.
Del's face softened. "I'm sorry you don't agree with my decision, but regardless of your objections, you'll have to accept it, as I won't change my mind. I hope that over time you'll come to see why I made this decision."
Only the fact that Calix was unwilling to cross that line and flat out call the president an overbearing asshole made him swallow back his snide remarks and instead say, "Thank you, Mr. President."
The biggest downside to having your best friend as president was that you couldn't call him an asshole to his face anymore, even when he deserved it. Not in this room, at least. Not when he was acting as the president and not as your best friend.
20
Rhett had been worried about seeing Calix again for the first time after the dinner in the White House. Would it feel weird? Awkward? He hoped not because the tentative friendship with Calix had come to mean a lot to him. He would hate to see that ruined.
But when he finally saw Calix at the end of the day, all thoughts of it being weird evaporated from his mind. He found him in the hallway, one hand braced against the wall, his eyes closed.
"Are you okay?" Rhett asked.
Calix grunted as he opened his eyes. "My neck. I must've slept wrong or something. It's killing me."
"Oh no, I'm so sorry. Can you get an appointment with your massage therapist?"
"Not until tomorrow afternoon. She was completely booked and already found me a slot outside her usual working hours. God, I won't even be able to sleep tonight."
Calix had never been this open about how much his neck bothered him, and Rhett's insides warmed. Calix trusted him enough to share this with him. He so badly wanted to help him, but would it be appropriate to offer? He'd done it before, but that had been more a spur-of-the-moment decision. This would be a far more deliberate suggestion, and if he wanted to do a good job, they'd have to do it somewhere else.
He swallowed. "I could give you another massage…"
He'd spoken softly, but Calix's eyes widened instantly. "Seriously?"
Rhett nodded. "I'd be happy to. The last time helped, right?"
"Hell, yes. That felt amazing. But…" Calix scanned the hallway.
"Not here. I get it. But I could come to your house?"
"Would you? It's not too much of an inconvenience?"
Joy spread inside Rhett. Calix had accepted his offer. He was so happy to be able to do something for Calix. "Not at all."
"The fact that I'm accepting so easily should tell you how bad it is today." Calix winced. "Honestly, I'm beyond grateful."
Okay. That went better than he'd expected. He might as well push it. "Next time, ask me. I'm always happy to help you."
Calix grimaced as he massaged his neck. "Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot to me. I'm heading out in about half an hour. Would that work for you?"
"I'll be there."
Calix shot him a more genuine smile, then carefully continued on his way. Rhett took a deep breath. Hurdle one had been taken: getting Calix to agree to his plan. But the second obstacle was maybe even more of a challenge. But he could do this. He had to learn how to do this. The question was would he be brave enough to face him in person, or would he be a coward and text? No, he wouldn't message him. That was beneath him, and their friendship deserved more.
With a deep sigh and lead in his shoes, Rhett turned around and headed toward Levar's office. Levar had already texted him he was done for the day, so Rhett knocked briefly, then walked in. Levar was just zipping his messenger bag closed. "Hey, babe. You ready to go?"
With nerves coursing through his veins, Rhett said, "Something came up, so I won't be home until later. Much later, probably."
"Oh, that sucks." Then Levar frowned. "Is there an event happening I don't know about? Or is this something personal for the president?"
Lying would be so easy. All he had to say was yes to the latter, and Levar wouldn't ask any more, knowing Rhett couldn't tell him. But how could he lie to his best friend?