[Scene after Trump learns he won the election] After a while, Trump, perhaps needing to absorb the gravity of what was happening, went and sat down.
A moment later, Christie burst through the force field and sat next to him. “Hey, Donald,” he said. “The president talked to me earlier.”
Christie knew Obama from their work together in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. “If you win he’s going to call my phone, and I’ll pass it over to you.”
Trump flashed a look of annoyance, clearly resenting the intrusion. He was also, his aides knew well, a fanatical germaphobe who would not want Christie’s cell phone pressed to his face—not even for the deep satisfaction of hearing Barack Obama congratulate him on having defeated Clinton.
Still, onlookers were startled when Trump snapped,
“Hey, Chris, you know my fucking number. Just give it to the president. I don’t want your fucking phone.”
Christie’s move was, one witness later recalled, “the ultimate mistake.” It was one from which he wouldn’t recover.
[....]
As midnight struck and Clinton’s carriage turned into a pumpkin, the penthouse started filling up with VIPs: Trump’s sons Don Jr. and Eric and their wives, Melania and ten-year-old Barron, Conway and communications adviser Jason Miller, Rudy and Judith Giuliani, the Pences.
Then, loudly and boisterously—inevitably—Chris Christie emerged from the elevator, eager as ever to join the party.
He made a beeline for Trump.
“It’s one of the main reasons he got fired,” one attendee later insisted. “Trump hates being smothered, and Christie just got under his skin.”
from Joshua Green's 'Devil's Bargain: Steve Bannon, Donald Trump, and the Storming of the Presidency'
https://www.amazon.com/dp/0735225028/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_x_JR3hAbF2QRRWT