Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,23
It’s yet to be seen what Anna will do, but she's not who opens the door.
It’s David, and his eyes travel around the cabin until they fall on me. Shit.
“Mr. Hazar,” he says. “Come with me, please.”
With an inward sigh, I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand. Every eye in the cabin watches as I walk down the aisle to where David is waiting. My guess is the cabin will be anything but quiet once I leave.
“The President would like to speak with you,” David says once we step out of the cabin and the door closes.
I nod, because there is no other reason why he’d pull me out. It’s curious, though, why she’d wait until we were over ten thousand feet in the air to summon me when it’s been weeks since we last spoke. David and I walk through a maze of rooms and doorways until we reach a closed door he doesn’t open, but knocks on instead.
“Madame President,” David says and opens the door when she bids him to enter.
We step inside and find Anna standing in front of her desk. The first thing to pop into my head is that I was right, her legs do look ridiculously long in her fitted pants. I push back the inappropriate images suddenly flooding my brain and lift my eyes to meet hers. It’s like someone poured ice water over my head. Though her stance is relaxed and her frame holds no tension, the look in her eyes belies them both. She’s not calm at all, I realize in shock. She’s mad as hell.
“Madame President,” I say.
Her gaze settles on David. “Thank you, Mr. Herdsman,” she says. “Please close the door behind you and see to it that we aren’t disturbed.”
He dips his head. “Yes, Madame President.”
The door clicks closed behind me, and I wait for Anna to tell me to have a seat, but she doesn’t. She stands for a long minute, assessing me. Slowly, she takes three steps to stand in front of me. It’s hard to take a breath and I can’t look away from the ire in her eyes. She invades my personal space, standing so close I feel the heat coming off of her in hot, sensual waves. Surely she feels it, too, but you’d never guess based on the cool way she looks me up and down.
I will myself not to flinch as she continues her frank assessment of me. Unsure of what she’s looking for, I’m not sure what to say. Probably best to stay silent, I decide as her gaze comes back to meet mine. Anger burns in her eyes, but that’s the only place it’s evident. I have an almost unstoppable urge to see if I can get her to show the emotion she hides so easily under that impenetrable mask. I wonder what exactly it would take?
“Why are you part of my Press Pool?” she asks, her gaze unwavering.
I clear my throat. “The Press Pool was created —"
“Stop,” she interrupts. “I didn’t ask for a history lesson, Mr. Hazar. I asked why you were on my Press Pool? Is the question not clear enough?”
“Why do you think I’m here, Madame President?” I ask instead of answering the question. She has to know why. Anna’s a smart woman, surely she understands I’m not here by choice.
“You mean outside of the fact that you work for the nation’s largest news network?” She actually manages to get a half smile out with that question. “Okay, I’ll bite. How about because you’re GBNC’s top anchor, and it makes little sense for them to tuck you away following me around for four or more years. The only way it makes sense is if they thought it would end up being worthwhile for you to be here. What aren’t you telling me, Mr. Hazar?”
Her reasoning sounds so similar to the plan Gabe and I came up with to get me back to New York, I can’t help but wonder if George had heard the same rumors as Gabe. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s the case or else George would have brought it up. Which means to GBNC, there’s only one reason I’m here.
“I hate to be the one to rip apart that beautiful conspiracy theory, Madame President,” I say. “But the truth is rather drab. GBNC sent me here as punishment for failing to disclose I went to law school with you.”
Her expression registers shock, but only for the briefest of seconds. “That seems a bit