"I like how you look at it. It makes perfect sense. And you're good at what you do. I've marveled at your ability to become practically invisible and blend into the background. Even when I know you're taking pictures, I barely notice you. I guess I've always been too much of an activist to be content to merely watch others do things."
"You're a doer. That's been clear to me from just watching you. So is the president. You get things done. Levar is the same. He makes a to-do list every morning and is never happier than when he can check everything off. I would be terrified of such a list. What's energizing and motivating for him is anxiety inducing for me, and I guess that's why he's the press secretary and I'm the photographer."
Calix laughed. "I have to tell you I have mad respect for him. Facing reporters every day? I'm an extrovert and have always been good at public speaking, but my stomach clenches every time I even set foot into the press room. I don't know how he does it."
Rhett laughed as well, startling Calix. He'd never heard such a happy, carefree sound from him. "You and me both. But it's been educational as well as inspiring to watch him grow in his role."
"I bet. As his roommate, you've had a front-row seat to his public and personal life. I can imagine that must've been challenging at times."
Rhett's smile faded. "I can’t express how grateful I am for his friendship. Without him, I wouldn't have survived the last five years, and I definitely wouldn't be where I am right now. I know he's the one who got me this job, and I'll never be able to repay him for it. Or you. I know it sounds corny, but I truly appreciate you gave me a shot despite my…history."
Calix put a hand on his shoulder, then squeezed firmly. "You earned this job. It might've started as a favor, on the recommendation of someone I trust. But over time, you've more than proven how good you are. You have this position based on your own merits, not just because you're Levar's friend or roommate. You're part of our team now, and I'm thrilled to have you."
A pretty blush stained Rhett's cheeks, and Calix's insides grew warm. He'd done a good deed, affirming him. What a great way to end this exhausting workday on a positive note.
"Now, go home and get some sleep. It's been a long day for both of us. I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," Rhett said softly, and Calix watched him as he walked off, his posture lighter and more relaxed than it had been before. See? A good deed indeed. If only everything else on his plate was so easy to fix.
2
Rhett pressed the shutter, then checked the image on his screen. Good, but not perfect. Too much light spilled in from the window behind the president. Backlight could be good, but if it was too bright, like now, it made his objects too dark, in this case President Shafer. Rhett took a few steps to the right, looking at the windows again and gauging the change in lighting. Yeah, that would work.
He framed the president again, his chief of staff by his side as they went over a report. Wasn't it funny how Rhett could barely remember what they were talking about? He'd signed several contracts, of course, and they had done a thorough background investigation for his clearance level, but sometimes it made him smile. They could've skipped all that. He usually wasn't paying attention to discussions around him anyway. He observed through his lens and focused on framing, the lighting, and getting that perfect shot. Anything else didn't exist.
He took a few photos in rapid succession. He missed the sound of his first camera, an old, analog Nikon F50. He’d gotten it from his neighbor, Jack, who’d been a hobby photographer. He’d noticed Rhett’s interest in photography and had gifted him the Nikon when he’d upgraded himself. Nothing beat the click of that shutter, though in this particular job, taking photos without making a sound was essential. As Calix had observed a few days before, Rhett had perfected the art of being invisible, and an inaudible camera helped him achieve that.
Like now, he'd bet good money that the two men weren't aware of his presence anymore. They certainly didn't act like they knew he was still in the room. Exactly how Rhett preferred it.
He lowered his camera and studied them. President Shafer sat behind the famous Resolute desk, which had featured in many iconic photographs. Rhett had only to think of the photo of little JFK Junior hiding under his father's desk to be aware of the historical significance of his job. And if nothing else, the assassination of President Markinson had brought that home all over again. Life was fragile, a fact he'd realized since the Pride Bombing. Before that, life had been easy, carefree, happy, but that horrible event had changed everything.
Wasn't it strange how their lives had converged? President Shafer and Calix had both been at the Pride Parade that day as well, as had Levar and Henley, and even Seth Rodecker, the Secret Service agent. Seth's boyfriend, Coulson Padman, had been one of the first FBI agents on the scene. All their lives had been irrevocably turned upside down, and their paths had crossed again in the most unlikely of places—the White House.
Then again, so many lines connected them. How could he have known that the photo he took that day, the heartbreaking scene of a man holding his dying husband in his arms, would win the World Press Photo? Rhett had immortalized Calix and his husband, Matthew, and every time Rhett talked to Calix, guilt coursed through him. Calix didn't blame him and had actually thanked him for taking that photo, but Rhett had a hard time letting go. Maybe he should've kept that photograph to himself. It had been too personal, too intimate to share. Not that it mattered now, since he could never turn back that decision.
That day, Levar and Henley had met for the first time as well, though Levar hadn't even remembered until Henley had told him. And Coulson had visited Seth in the hospital to get his statement and description of one of the bombers Seth had seen.
Right after the bombs had gone off, Rhett had taken photos of President Shafer, who had been a senator at the time, quickly taking charge and bravely coordinating rescue efforts. Even then, the man's leadership had been unquestionable, and his heroic actions had certainly led to his popularity and ultimately to him becoming vice president.
Their lives were all connected, and in his more reflective moments—and Rhett readily admitted he had quite a few of those—Rhett wondered if the universe had brought them together deliberately. Somehow, the idea of it serving a higher purpose made the suffering a little easier. Not just his own, though he still struggled with the aftereffects of the bombing, but everyone else's grief as well. It had left none of them unaffected.
He snapped a few more photos, then turned off his camera and put it in his bag. The president looked tired. No wonder with a job like that. Rhett wasn't sure how much sleep the man got, but it couldn't be more than five hours consistently. Being president was a challenge on its own, but being thrown into the job like President Shafer had been? A nightmare of the highest order.
Rhett slipped out of the Oval Office, the president and the chief of staff never even looking up as they kept discussing…something. He had no clue.
Snacking on a juicy apple, he made his way to Levar's office. "Is he in?" he asked Nicole, Levar's assistant.