One Last Time

one more offer

Everything hurt. Her head pounded threatening beats at her temple; and her back ached like she had been beaten. Squinting against the light that filtered through the blinds, Chloe groaned and sat up. She hadn't changed out of the dress she'd worn last night. Her stolen Louboutins were kicked haphazardly around the room. Her mouth tasted of a bad night out. She groaned. The clock on her nightstand told her that it was half past two in the afternoon.

She unzipped the dress and let it fall in a pool to her feet. Naked, she made her way into her bathroom and turned her shower to the hottest setting. Underneath the water, the memories of the night before slowly filtered their way back to her. The beautiful blonde in the bathroom. Benjamin's speech. Benjamin's hands on her. Her back against the wall. Benjamin inside of her.

Damnit, Chloe, you foolish girl, she reprimanded herself. She scrubbed her skin raw, almost as if trying to erase the memory of Benjamin's touch. She washed her hair, hoping to rid herself of his scent. But when she emerged from the shower, she was still under his spell. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her skin was pink from the heat, but otherwise smooth and pearlescent. A gift from her mother. Her eyes were dark and ferocious as her hair. Traits from her father. But she was otherwise ordinary, not as beautiful as the blonde woman, Nicole. Not as smart as she wished. Not as quick witted. Not as strong.

When Benjamin had left Chance City for Capitol Hill, he'd taken her heart with him. Of course, he'd asked her to come along. And for a little while, she'd entertained the thought of being a Congressman's wife. When Benjamin spoke of his political ambitions and had weaved golden threaded dreams of championing the rights of the people of Chance City, Chloe had laid there next to him, seeing those dreams and noticing the distinct absence of her in them. There was no space for Chloe in Benjamin's aspirations. She'd only serve as a distraction; an unhappy girlfriend waiting at home for him to return. A tether to the life he was trying to escape in Chance City. A reminder of who he was before he was a politician. A symbol of all of the things Benjamin wanted to forget. And as the day for Benjamin to move to Capitol Hill drew closer and closer, Chloe's nightmares had grown more and more vivid. She saw their future - but it wasn't the one Benjamin saw. Chloe's visions were of arguments, of dissatisfaction, of cold beds and heated words. Of secret lovers. Of pain. Of fury. And she knew that she had to let Benjamin go pursue his dreams. Alone.

That was eight years ago.

Chloe shook her head. She smoothed a Vitamin E serum across her skin, and then wiped moisturizer over her lips. She pulled out two pills of Aspirin from the bottle she kept behind the bathroom mirror and downed them with water from the sink. In the kitchen, she made an omelette out of two eggs, green onions and the last of her sausage. She felt a bit better after she ate. Then she set to the task of cleaning her apartment from crevice to crevice. She cleared out the cabinets and drawers, shook out her bed sheets. She swept and mopped and scrubbed the grout between the tiles. When all of that was done, she turned on her small television and pulled out her laptop. She stared at the blank word document, willing the article to write itself.

All she could think about was Benjamin.

Chloe was a journalist at a small left leaning paper. She'd been tasked with writing an article about one of Benjamin's rivals: Frederick Rodney, a left-leaning, well-spoken Harvard grad. He was trending at higher numbers than Benjamin was, due in no small part to his charm and candor. But something about him struck Chloe in a strange way. Frederick was like a Ken-doll; too plastic and perfect to be real. There was almost nothing to write about him. Benjamin, on the other hand, though more conservative had more substance. He had more passion, more life.

Her buzzer rang loudly through the apartment, startling Chloe out of her trail of thought. She wasn't expecting any visitors - her parents still lived in Porterville, and all of her friends knew to call before they showed up. Chloe pressed the 'TALK' button.

"Who is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"Chloe, didn't I tell you not to leave last night?"

Her heart raced in her chest. Almost as if on its own accord, her thumb held the 'DOOR' button for much longer than was probably necessary. A few moments later, there was a soft knock on her door. And suddenly, Chloe was nervous again. She was dressed in lounge clothes, her hair was free and unruly, and she didn't have a drop of makeup on. But it was too late to fix any of that now. She pulled the door open, and there Benjamin stood, dressed in a sharp dark suit and wearing a long wool coat. He smelled of cold air and old books. He smiled down at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, sounding more composed than she felt. She ran a self conscious hand through her hair.

"Will you invite me in?" Benjamin asked. Chloe hesitated. But then was suddenly very glad that she'd cleaned her apartment. She stepped out of the doorway, and when he entered her home, she busied herself with locking the three locks behind him.

Get a grip of yourself, she told herself through a deep breath. Nothing has changed. You still aren't the right person for him. You're as unmatched as you were eight years ago.

When she turned around, Benjamin had made himself comfortable. He'd draped his wool coat over the couch, and he sat there now, arms spread along the back, legs crossed. He wasn't wearing a tie, and the first two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone. He was the same Benjamin she had known, and yet he was a different man entirely. He patted the empty seat beside him.

"I won't bite," he said, smiling so that his dimple winked at her.

"What are you doing here?" Chloe repeated, crossing her arms against his charms. She refused to let herself be swayed by him. "What do you want?" Benjamin rose an eyebrow.

"I want to know why you left the fundraiser last night," he answered.

"I wasn't invited," Chloe answered.

"You promised you wouldn't leave. I haven't heard from you in so long."

"I changed my number."

"And moved," Benjamin noted. "To get away from me?"

Chloe sighed and moved closer to sit on the arm of the couch across from him. She shook her head.

"What do you want, Benjamin?" she asked in a gentler tone. "Nothing has changed since we last saw each other. Why do you want to do this again?"

Benjamin regarded her for a long moment. He uncrossed his legs and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fixing her with a look that she recognized. It was focused, determined. Sharp. It wouldn't take no for an answer.

"I want you to come work on my campaign as my press secretary. No one can do a better job than you, and if I'm going to win, I need the best. I need you, Chloe."