Page (Mitt Romney x OC)

Chapter 10

I woke up the next morning at my alarm ready to fling myself off the first bridge I came across. I checked my phone to make sure it hadn't been a fucked-up dream, and sure enough, a call to Senator Romney at 12:30 in the morning the night before. Lasting almost 20 minutes. God-fucking-dammit. I almost threw my phone across the room before I remembered- the laptop. I ran out and put it in my car, screen up so it didn't turn off. I went back inside and took a quick shower, changed clothes, halfway panicking again. I got in my car and drove to the Russell building even though it was a Saturday. But I knew the senator would most likely be there.

I almost crashed the car, my hands were shaking so badly. The receptionist arched an eyebrow, but didn't ask, waving me past and into the elevators.

I held the laptop and gritted my teeth, the swirling of my stomach making it hard to think. I should have taken the laptop to Adam Schiff, as he was running the damn inquiry, but I didn't know how to find him and had no patience for finding out. I needed someone who would believe me. Romney.

I practically banged the door down, until Romney sighed a "come in". I set the computer down on his desk and took a deep breath. I didn't look up at him, but I saw him lean back. Away from me.

"Sir," I said, dropping into the chair on the other side of his desk. "You need to see this. I... I didn't know who else to take this to." He furrowed his eyebrows as I handed him my phone, letting him read the screenshots. There was silence.

"Where did you get these," he whispered. I knew they would overturn everything. I was not wrong.

"Gwen, sir. It's her laptop- don't close it, I don't have the password. But it's hers- she left it at my house when we left for the gala. I didn't know anything about this. I took the screenshots and sent them to myself but the original texts are still there." I said truthfully.

"Anything else?" He asked.

"At the gala, Gwen spoke to a guy and he called her Dominika, he- they said that they had no doubts about the impeachment vote being a bipartisan split, except for you, sir. They think you're the only senator that would dare vote against the president. And- and they said they had to 'persuade' you to vote otherwise. I don't know what they're planning to get you to agree, sir but I-"

He cut me off. "It's alright. I'll take this to the case managers-" he gestured at the laptop. "And we'll discuss what happens next." I took a deep breath.

"Okay." I agreed, and decided to trust him. These were our careers on the line. More mine than his, but I didn't want to see him be run out of politics in a couple years when his term ended.

He sat back down and looked at me. "You know this could mean your friend is sentenced. Perhaps to life in prison."

I took a breath. "I know. If she lied to me like this, though, she was never my friend to begin with."

Romney shook his head. "I wish other people thought like that. But it seems petty little things separate us from doing what's right."

"Personal biases," I echoed as we contemplated the smoking time bomb disaster sitting in front of us.

"They won't stop me."

I jerked my head up. "Sir?"

"You said they were going to try and persuade me. I was on the fence before, about the vote. But this is more than I bargained for." We locked eyes.

"You're not going to- to give in, if that's not what you want, right?" I said, sitting up straighter and staring at him. "You can't just give them what they want. Unless it was your choice from the beginning."

He chuckled, "No, I'm not going to give in." He sat back. I sighed.

"Thank God."

"You're welcome, but my name isn't God. It's Mitt," he cracked a smile and I flushed, looking down at my feet. He'd never said his first name in front of me before. It felt almost wrong, but the side of wrong that made you tingle with excitement.

"That was awful," I said, faking a grimace. He grinned.

"Oh, I know." He sat back. "So. I'll call Mr. Schiff and we'll... we'll let him know."

I sighed. "I..." I trailed off. This was getting too big for me to even fathom and it was getting to me.

"Ash. Ash, look at me." I did, knowing the anxiety was showing on my face. He leaned over the desk and fixed me with his brown eyes.

"We're going to do this." He said. I nodded. "This is going to change everything. But I know we can do it. All we have to do is take this," he gestured to the laptop. "To Adam Schiff. You might even have to testify. But it's going to be alright. Do you get it?"

I tried for a smile. "Yeah. I get it. I'm just... nervous. Is all."

He nodded. "So am I." Silence filled the room.

"I'll take this to him," I said after a moment. "I don't want you getting the blame for this. If you vote to convict you'll be getting massive shit for that. I don't want them thinking you had anything to do with this," I looked up at the senator. He shook his head.

"As much as I admire that," don't flush, stop it, Ash, "We should do it together. I want this taken seriously." I shrugged and conceded. He was set on this, I wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise.

"When?" I asked.

"I'll call him now and see if he can fit us in at some point," Romney decided, picking up the phone on his desk. He pulled out his cell to look for the man's office number. He dialed and I bit my lip, not realizing I'd curled myself into a little ball in the chair, knees pulled to my chest. Romney looked over and smiled a little at me, eyes warm, and I shoved down the urge to bury my face in my knees and hide my blush. I laced my fingers and listened as a receptionist picked up on the other end of the line.

"Yes, this is Senator Romney, for Congressman Schiff?" he said, and we were patched through quickly. Glancing at me, the senator pressed a button on the landline and set it on speaker, so I could hear. I nodded my thanks and listened.

"Senator Romney, how good to hear from you," Schiff sounded distracted. I let out a silent breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Can I ask a favor?" Romney asked.

"Depends. What are you suggesting?"

"I need to speak with you," he said plainly.

"Just you?" He asked.

"And a-" he glanced over at me quickly before continuing. "A friend."

"I can fit you in tomorrow morning, Sunday," Schiff said. "If it's urgent."

"It is," Romney said firmly. They said their goodbyes, Romney hung up and turned to me, still curled in the uncomfortable, barely-padded office chair. I must have looked scared, or uncomfortable or something, because he stood and rounded the desk, coming to a stop in front of me.

"How are you so brave?" I whispered, voice wobbling from holding back anxious tears. I was trembling, despite my best efforts. "How aren't you scared?" I wasn't sure what I was referring to, his decision on whether or not to vote for removal, or this bombshell we were going to expose. His expression changed from firm and determined to something softer, more open, and I pushed away the thought of hiding my face. He crouched to meet my gaze.

"I'm not brave," he said quietly. "And I am scared. But I took an oath. I was asked to put my biases aside and be as impartial as I could. And if I can't rely on anything else in this situation I can rely on that, the oath I took and the God I chose to serve."

I took a shuddering breath. "You can rely on me," I whispered. "You know that."

He nodded, not looking away from me. "I do."