To Aaron’s PR, Julian corrects: “Ben.” He should know by now he was far more than just a title. Ben was, most likely, the sole reason why Julian sat behind this desk now, the words Vice President spelled out under his name. “And that’s not what I meant. Your news are the best thing I’ve heard today after Elise’s news. Nothing matters more to me than my children, you know that.”
Where the outburst of humor came from, Julian didn’t know. He was always one to appreciate Aaron’s smile, but not in matters such as this. It wasn’t funny– it was their careers. Their future. At that, Julian forces himself to smile, a monosyllabic ha the most laughter he could offer.
“Of course, don’t tell people that,” he says. “May, mostly.” If she couldn’t swallow murder, this probably wasn’t too far off.
Julian smiles again, more genuinely this time: “Management’s perfect.”
The offer catches him off guard, though it shouldn’t have. They shared the dynamic of boss-employee now, but they were only friends once. Good friends, he might even say. Much as they hadn’t forgotten, it did seem to get somewhat pushed onto the back of the closet, all sorts of political junk concealing it well.
What will Leon think– he finds himself wondering, borderline worried. He likes you as you are now. With no friends besides him.
“Yeah,” he still says, that smile still there. It almost wavers– Don’t ruin it. Almost is the word. Julian was far too good at pretending not to keep his expression in check. “I miss that.” A beat. “You could come over for dinner? Or I could come over; I don’t remember if you like kids or not. But then again, I’ve known you from when you were what– twenty? A few things have changed since then.” Speaking of– “Did your cooking get any better?”
To be frank, Aaron didn’t give a shit about Ben. Ben’s role was PR, and that’s how Aaron remembered him by. Aaron didn’t set aside the majority of his life to get along with Ben. Now, does Ben do good work? Indisputably. Does Aaron appreciate what Ben does? Of course. Does he care about the guy? No.
But Aaron didn’t say any of this to Julian because he didn’t need to hear it. He just raised his hands in mild surrender and said, “My bad. Ben.” Hopefully he’d remember the name next time PR came up.
Julian didn’t seem to find the humor where Aaron did, but that didn’t really bother him. Aaron always did seem to smile more than Julian did. Perhaps he simply found the irony in everything.
“I’ll come over,” said Aaron. “I don’t want the Vice President of the United States dragging reporters to my front door. Kids are fine, as long as I get to eat and don’t need to take care of them when they start crying.”
Then, Aaron flashed a grin. “Hey man, relax; you were asking for an actual meal after me living off years of instant ramen and take out. I’ve gotten better--but maybe not good enough for the VP himself.”