The White House had grown silent, but Calix had only vaguely noticed it. Hyperfocus, one of his college professors had taught him once. The ability to focus on a task so completely he didn't take in anything about the world around him. It had explained a lot to Calix, for example, how he could sink into a book and not hear his husband calling his name a thousand times. Matthew had come to accept it over time, but he'd teased Calix mercilessly.
His assistant, Sheila, had left hours before, but Calix had wanted to finish reading the reports on his desk. He should've known that was an impossible task. Three hours later and he'd barely made a dent in the pile. In his defense, he still had a lot to learn, so he couldn't quite distinguish between what was important and what he could safely delegate. After all, he'd been on the job for only a couple of months, and both he and Del had expected to have much more time to prepare for the transition.
No, not Del. President Shafer. He had to stop calling him by his first name, a habit that was hard to break. They’d known each other so long, but dammit, he'd address him properly before the man left office. Del cared little for formalities, but Calix was embarrassed when he slipped up in front of others. It had been one thing when Del had been vice president, but now that he was president, it mattered.
Calix closed the report he'd finished reading and leaned back in his chair. With a precise move, he dropped his head to the left, holding it for a few seconds, then stretching the other side. His neck hurt; it always did. The pain had become a constant companion. He'd consulted every specialist, tried every therapy from acupuncture to foot reflexology, but nothing worked, so he'd accepted he'd have to get used to the ache.
He pushed his chair back and got up, then did a few more stretches in a futile attempt to get the kinks out of the muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back. He'd better make sure to get a good run in, in the morning. He'd been working too much, even by his standards, and his body was paying the price.
A quick check on the clock told him it was past nine in the evening. He really needed to go home. Not that there was anyone waiting for him, but working eighteen-hour days had become a bad habit. No matter how grand his office in the West Wing was with its dark blue carpet, the mahogany desk, and classic chairs that had probably cost more than all the furniture in his house combined, it wasn't home. Not that his house even felt like home without Matthew waiting for him.
He was just packing up the last stuff when a faint noise drifted in from the hallway. He frowned. Del had left for the residence already, hadn't he? Yeah, he'd gone up around seven for dinner with Sarah and Kenn. So who was still here?
Calix had sent Levar home early. It was a slow news day, and they weren't expecting anything else today that warranted the press secretary's presence. Besides, the guy deserved to be with his boyfriend every now and then. He and Henley really were too cute together, and that was coming from a man who rarely shipped couples. Between those two and the new lovebirds Seth and Coulson, the Secret Service Agent and FBI agent who had found each other, love seemed to be in the air. But not for him. Never again. He'd had the love of his life…and he'd lost him. That part of his life was over.
He walked into the hallway and almost ran into Rhett. "Hey, what are you still doing here?"
Levar had recommended Rhett Foles for the position of White House photographer, and Calix had gladly followed his advice, wanting someone who could be trusted more than anything else. Rhett was not just Levar's longtime friend but his roommate as well, and so far, he'd done a terrific job, earning every high praise.
Rhett took a step or two back. "Earlier today, the president asked me to take some photos of the family dinner. I'm sorry. I should've checked it with you. It's not an official White House function, but I think he likes the idea of preserving memories for later."
"Oh, that's all right. No need to explain. Whenever the president asks you to do