"Madame la présidente."

"Yes."

"Monsieur Michalak est ici."

"He doesn't have an appointment."

"He said you'd say that. He told me to tell you the prime minister sent him. He says he's a doctor."

Severine frowned. What was the old badger scheming? She had to meet this Michalak guy to know, "Send him in."

"Bonjour, madame."

"Bonjour monsieur, Michalak."

They stared at each other like dogs in a back alley.

Severine didn't expect to see such a young man. Spin doctors were people with experience, and the man before her looked almost like he had just graduated.

He was short; five or eight centimeters separated them in Severine's favor. He had a determined stare, and something about him reminded her of Paul. Oh, it was that side parting that gave off a choirboy stance. She wondered where Paul went. It was as though someone had wiped out his existence from the world's surface. Even Nassim was unable to find the man.

Paul was the party's man who helped her win the election, so it wasn't surprising that the party sought to separate the winning combination.

Almost a minute passed, and neither one said a word. Finally, Severine broke the ice.

"Que puis-je faire pour vous monsieur Michalak."

"It's more about what I can do for you, madam. Please call me Augustus."

Severine cocked a brow; he was bold to bold for comfort.

"So Augustus, tell me what brings you?"

The man walked to the window and turned to face her, "A storm is raging. Whatever we do will hit you again and again until the end of your term. The walls talk of strikes, boycotts, and lobbying. All of that is coming soon near you. They'll probably blow it up just before the legislative. Your ministers will be bone weary and willing to give up their seats by the end of it."

Severine leaned back in her seat, "Sounds like an armageddon."

"Oh, that's an appetizer," Augustus said and came to sit across from her. "When I listen to the oldies."

"Oldies?"

"You know, Francois and all the party dinosaurs heading to extinction. One could think you're on your way to a term in purgatory, madame la présidente."

"And you're a solution?" Severine said with a mocking corner smile Augustus was used to seeing on the faces of those who underestimated him.

"I'm a solutionner."

"Why should I trust you?"

Augustus leaned forward, "I'm an independent; I'm offering my services because our favorite grandad knows my grandad and told him you needed a spinner."

Severine frowned. "Did you just refer to Christian Blanchet, the prime minister, as grandad?"

"Yes, it isn't against the law, is it?" Augustus looked about. "We're not on camera, were we?"

"Aren't you a little too young for this job?"

Severine wondered how old he could be.

"Age isn't nothing but a number, madame. I'm twenty-nine, and I have all my teeth. I've advised personalities I can't mention here, but let's say I've stopped someone from bombarding Great Britain because a hairdresser mocked his Chinese smuggler haircut. I've prevented a few princesses from exposing their husbands' infidelities, or I have successively achieved revealing their infidelities without anyone doubting the princess was the source. I fix or break things. It's spin or swindle for me."

"And it's your job, not some college assignment?"

Augustus stretched his lips for the perfect Chesire cat grin, "Yes, like Paul, I enjoy a good scandal but prefer peace. I do have a work ethic."

"And that is?"

"Save them till you can't. Then bailout." Augustus shrugged, "Life is a bitch."

"Are you always this honest?"

"No, madam, but I figure that you won't hire me if I'm not transparent. I hope you'll hire me. It's always good on a CV to have a president, and you, madame, are a black pearl of scandal."

"You're dangerous."

"I'll take it as a compliment," Augustus said, nodding in agreement with the statement.

"When can you start?"

Augustus tapped a palm on his forehead, "Silly me, I thought we were already working together."

"Okay, so what do I do?"

"You have multiple problems. First, your wavering marriage bluffs no one. Any body language expert can decode what you and Mr. Lafarge are playing. Your husband hates your guts. It's obvious. I advise dropping the mascarade before he does and becoming a martyr. Statistics show his support is no longer relevant. The sympathy he gets only comes from the fact he looks like a playboy. Politically, all think his party is a firewall for his father's party."

Severine put her hand on her mouth to retain her cough of discomfort, "Anything else?"

Augustus locked his hands together, "Try appearing in a few women's events to fund a woman's refuge and push a few cases pending on the Me-Too bench to the win box."

"It's not like me. It will seem fake."

"Then make it real: being president is the biggest role one can get in this world movie. Show us that you are Oscar-worthy."

"I'm not an actress."

Augustus rolled his eyes, "I say you are, but you can do better. You hate women, but right now, you need to show you're an ally, and please don't say you can't hate women because you are one. It's because you are one that your resentment is high. Let me guess: Mr. Lafarge likes dipping his biscuit everywhere else than in your tea. Actually, I'm not guessing. I know from a bulletproof source your husband has been rotating his booby call schedule for years, but he recently broke the fourth wall with none other than," Augustus leaned forward and whispered, "Your sister."

The murder's glint appeared in the president's eye. Severine was no different from any influential person with secrets, and this reassured Augustus, who was afraid that the president was one of those forsaken idealistic activists who believed they could reduce world famine and have everyone riding bikes instead of cars and eating tofu instead of meat.

"Do you know who I am, Mr. Michalalk?"

"Yes, I do. I speak like this because no one else will be this frank with you. It would be best if you had someone like me in this world of bastards. The more honest we'll be with one another, the better it will be. Try seeing me like a therapist. Anything you say stays between us until death breaks us apart."

"I see you are well informed."

"It's my job, madame, to always be the first to know. If it reassures you that no one knows about Mr. Lafarge and you know who, I sought the information myself."

"You spied on me?"

"No," Augustus laughed, "I'm sorry to say this, madam, but you're boring. You do nothing except look up your future with some old hag living in a council flat. Don't worry; every person in power does it at one point. By the way, how accurate is she? Did she tell you you'd be president? No, really, madam. It's those around you who are interesting. Your father-in-law, husband, and sisterㅡthey're the ones needing the guillotine on place the la Bastille."

The two pursued their conversation, and it was two hours later that Augustus left the president's office.

He crossed Christain in the hall and only nodded to acknowledge his presence.

"So, what do you think of him?" The prime minister asked when he entered Severine's office.

Severine paced behind her desk, "He's trouble."

"Hes' the best, you know."

"I want to know where Paul is. You'd think someone killed him."

Christian sighed, "The party mandated him. His withdrawal is in line with their strategy."

"That's dumb. They knew full well I could replace him at any moment. Why haven't they stopped this Michaelak fellow?"

"They don't see him as a menace. As you can see, he's a little eccentric, and not many take him seriously, but those who do avoid the worst. He's young and has no political cleavage. They can't control him."

"He said his grandfather knows you."

"Yes, his grandfather used to work at the Vince parking lot of the parliament back in the day. He saw and heard a lot," Christian explained.

"And now his grandson is a spinner."

Christian took a deep breath. "Augustus understands the Internet, ratings, rankings, tagging, buzz, and whatever else makes media enticing.

Severine shook her head, "It was hard enough getting Paul to do what I wanted.

"Severine fixers aren't there to do what you want. They're there to submit options you can't even think of. They're stage directors."

"He knows so much already."

"Trust him, Severine; he can spin you out of the storm Alexis & co are preparing."

"He said, never mind," Severine said, remembering how Augustus told her not to speak to anyone, including Christian, about their conversation.

"It's a contract between me and you, madame la president. We can't have a third party in this, not even your son. There's no such thing as a trustworthy person in your position."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can't. You'll have to accept the game as it is. madame la presidente."

A game.

Augustus was the first person to imply it was a game other than her than herself. Thus, it made him an essential piece of her chess table. 

Could the man be her bishop? 

Only the future will tell.