Press

Chapter 5: Secret Relationship

Late at night, the White House corridors were cloaked in shadow, the only sound the faint hum of the overhead lights and the soft squeak of a cleaning cart's wheels. Margie, the cleaning lady, rounded the corner, her sharp eyes catching Jaxon slipping out of Bryson's office. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him leave at odd hours. Sometimes Bryson followed, sometimes not, but it always left Margie with a raised eyebrow.

She lingered, pretending to clean, watching Jaxon adjust his shirt and glance around nervously before disappearing down the hall. Her curiosity piqued, she mentally cataloged this as more than just another late-night meeting. The next morning, as she sipped her coffee in the staff lounge, Margie casually dropped her observations to the other cleaning staff.

"Y'all notice that cute little reporter always leavin' the Communication Director's office late at night?" she asked, her tone dripping with implication.

A few eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, I seen 'em too," another staffer chimed in. "You think somethin' goin' on there?"

Before long, the White House maintenance staff had turned Margie's musings into full-blown gossip, speculation buzzing around the building like bees.

By the next morning, the whispers had spread to the political staff. Damon, in the midst of reviewing briefing notes, overheard snippets of conversation as a couple of aides passed his office.

"...Jaxon and Bryson? Late at night...?"

"Could be just work, but you know Bryson..."

Damon's hand froze mid-page flip. He looked up, the familiar tug of exasperation pulling at his chest. Bryson had always had a knack for getting into complicated situations—especially when it came to mixing his personal and professional lives. Damon thought back to their relationship and how Bryson's ambitious nature often led him to blur lines. Nothing about this gossip surprised him.

"Typical Bryson," Damon muttered to himself, shaking his head as he returned to his notes. Yet, despite his effort to remain detached, he couldn't help but wonder how deep this ran. He glanced across the room at Parker, who was typing away at his laptop, seemingly unbothered by the rising tension.

Parker, for his part, had caught wind of the rumors but didn't seem phased. "People talk. It's the White House—everyone's got something to say." His tone was nonchalant, yet there was a guarded quality in his eyes that Damon didn't miss.

Damon leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing Parker. "Doesn't it bother you? The whole place buzzing with this Jaxon-Bryson thing?"

Parker shrugged. "What's the point? People will always find something to whisper about. As long as it's not us they're talking about, I'm fine." There was a subtle smile on his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Damon snorted. "You really don't care, do you?"

Parker's gaze lingered on Damon a moment longer than necessary. "I care about what matters. The rest? It's just noise."

-

Meanwhile, Bryson sat in his office, tension seeping from his every pore. The rumors had gotten back to him, and though he outwardly maintained his usual sharp, confident facade, inside he was unraveling. His fingers hovered over his keyboard as he typed out an email to colleagues, crafting a professional yet defensive message about his late-night meetings with Jaxon.

To Whom It May Concern:

I understand there have been discussions regarding the nature of my recent meetings with Mr. Jaxon. I want to clarify that these were strictly work-related, focusing on the President's upcoming media strategy.