“There's no appeal to it whatsoever,” she said, shaking.
“But there is to me,” he said bluntly. It was the one thing he wanted, more than he wanted her, or any marriage. “And I can't do it without you. There's no such thing as a separated president, much less a divorced one. That's not news to you.” She was a political pro, after growing up with her father. But as he looked at her, he had an idea. If nothing else, he had to salvage what he could from this, though he made no effort at all to convince her he still loved her. She was too smart for that, he had already put too many stamps in the coupon book. It had gone too far, and they both knew it.
“Let me suggest something to you,” he said thoughtfully. “It's not exactly a romantic idea, but maybe it would suit both our needs. I need you. Practically speaking, for the next five years at least. One for the campaign, and four more for my first term. After that, we can either renegotiate, or the country will have to adjust to our situation. Maybe it's time for people to understand that even their president is human. After all, look at Prince Charles and Princess Di. England survived it, surely we will.” In his own mind, he was already the president, and people were going to have to adjust to him, just as she did.
“I'm not quite sure we're in those leagues,” she said ironically, but he didn't seem to notice.
“Anyway,” he went on, ignoring her, thinking ahead and concentrating on making it sound appealing, “we're talking about five years. You're very young, Olivia. You can afford that, and it will give you a cachet you never had before. People will not just feel sorry for you, or curious about you, they will come to adore you. My boys and I can make that happen.” She wanted to vomit as she listened to him, but she let him continue. “I will put five hundred thousand dollars in an account for you at the end of each year, after taxes. At the end of five years, you'll have two and a half million dollars.” He held up a hand to anticipate any comment. “I know you can't be bought, but if you're going to go off on your own afterwards, that's a nice little nest egg with which to do it. And if we have another child,” he smiled at her, sweetening the deal, “I will give you another million. We've been talking about that recently, and I think that could be an important issue. You don't want people to think that there's something strange about us, or say that we're both gay, or you're obsessed by tragedy. They say enough of that already. I think it's time for us to move on, and have another baby.” Olivia couldn't believe what she was hearing. “We've been talking about a baby,” meant he and his campaign people. It was beyond disgusting.
“Why don't we just rent a baby?” she said coldly. “No one would have to know. We could just take it on the campaign trail with us, and then give it back when we get home. It would be a lot easier. Babies are so incredibly messy, and so much trouble.” He didn't like the look in her eyes when she said it.
“Comments like that are unnecessary,” he said quietly, looking like exactly what he was, a rich boy who had gone to all the best prep schools, followed by Harvard undergraduate and law school. He had lots of family money behind him, and he had always believed that there was nothing he couldn't have if he either bought it or worked hard enough for it. He was willing to do both, but not for her. And there was no way in the world she was going to have another baby with him. He was never around for the first one, even once he had cancer. It was part of why Alex's death had been so hard on her, and somewhat easier for Andy. He hadn't been nearly as close to their son as she was.
“Your proposal is revolting. It's the most disgusting thing I ever heard,” she said with a look of outrage. “You want to buy five years of my life, at a sensible price, and you want me to have another child because it will help you get elected. I may throw up if I sit here and listen to you for much longer.” The look on her face told him exactly what she thought of his proposal.
“You always liked children. I don't understand why that's a problem.”
“I don't like you anymore, Andy, and this is why, or part of it. How can you be this crass and insensitive? What has happened to you?” Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry for him. He wasn't worth it. “I love children. I still do. But I'm not going to have a baby for a campaign, with a man who doesn't love me. What were you suggesting, that we do it by artificial insemination?” He hadn't slept with her in months, and she didn't really care. He didn't have time, and he had other resources he exploited regularly, and she didn't have the interest.
“I think you're overreacting,” he said, but he was faintly embarrassed by what she was saying. There was some truth to it, and even he knew it. But he couldn't back down now. It was too important to him to win her over. He had told his campaign manager that she would balk at having a baby. She had been terribly attached to their first child, distraught when he died, and he suspected that she would never be willing to have another. She was much too afraid now to lose it. “All right, I'd like you to think about it, though. Say a million for each year. That's five million dollars for five years, and another two if you have a baby.” He was serious and all she could do was laugh now.
“Do you think I should hold out for two a year and three if I have a baby? What does that make,” she pretended to consider it, “let's see …that's six if I have twins …nine if I have triplets. I could take Pergonal shots …maybe even quadruplets …” She turned and looked at him with wounded eyes. Who was this man she had once believed in? How could she have been so wrong about him? Listening to him, she wondered if he'd ever been human, yet deep in her heart, she knew he had been, way, way at the beginning. It was because of the person he once had been, and not the one he was now, that she stayed and listened. “If I do any of this for you, and I doubt that I will, it will be out of some distorted sense of loyalty to you, not out of greed, or because I'm trying to get rich off you. But I know how badly you want this.” It would be her final gift to him, and then she'd never have to feel guilty for leaving.
“It's all I want, Olivia,” he said, so intent, he was pale. And she knew that for once he was being honest.
“I'll think about it,” she said quietly. She didn't know what to do now. That morning she had been convinced that she'd be back in La Favière by the end of the week, and now she was about to become first lady. It was a nightmare. But she felt as though she owed him something. He was still her husband, and he had been the father of her child, and she could help him get the one thing he wanted in life. It was an incredible gift to give anyone. And without her, she knew he couldn't do it.