Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,26

skirt. My styling team runs around doing what they need to make me look my best. My hair is pulled back into an uncomplicated knot at my nape, and they keep my makeup light and simple.

When I decided to run for Congress, Jaya sat me down and taught me everything I needed to know about makeup. Considering that up to that point the only cosmetic I used on a regular basis was lipstick, she had a lot to teach. I’ll be forever grateful she was as thorough as she was, not considering herself finished until I had done my entire face to her satisfaction.

I think she was happier than anyone when I was assigned a stylist.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “Now I can sleep at night.”

I’m mingling at the reception. At the moment, I’m talking with the First Lady of Argentina, and trying to appear as if I’m completely enthralled with the play-by-play she’s giving me of her last visit to the White House when at a State Dinner, she discovered a party crasher in the ladies room. I smile and nod at the right times, but my brain is somewhere else completely.

It couldn’t be Nicole, I keep her too busy for her to have time to even think about leaking information. But if I follow that logic, I rule out everyone because we’re all busy.

I rarely drink alcohol, preferring to ensure my mind is clear and alert at all times, so at the moment, I’m holding tonic water with lime. Conversation swirls around me and for a second I push aside all thoughts of my staff issues and let the reality of who I am and what I’m doing sink in. It’s so easy to get caught up in the details of the every day that we miss the big picture.

There’s a subtle change in the chatter of the crowd, and a brief stirring before the room returns to normal. I look toward the door to see who or what might have led to the change and I’m floored to realize it’s Navin. What the hell?

He’s in a tux, probably the same one he wore the night of my inauguration. The sight makes my body react in ways I would prefer it not, but there’s not much I can do to stop it. Then it hits me, he’s not supposed to be here in the ballroom. None of the press are, and I can’t wait to hear his explanation of why he is.

I square my shoulders and wait for him to come over to where I’m standing. He looks around the room, but it’s not me he’s trying to find. His eyes land on the oldest daughter of the Prime Minister of New Zealand, and he smiles and walks toward her…on the other side of the room. They embrace like old friends and he even shakes hands with the Prime Minister.

As the conversations around the room continue, I try to look everywhere except where Navin is, so of course, my eyes land right on him. The daughter is introducing him a group of men standing near her father, and I realize another reason why Navin would want to be on my Press Pool.

Sex.

He’s a single man with a sharp mind, quick wit, and a body that looks so good, it makes grandmothers blush. He probably sees this as an opportunity to meet and charm women who would otherwise be inaccessible.

Anger pulses through me at the realization of how easily my team and I played into his hands. I’m mad with myself because I knew when I first dipped my toe in the governmental waters I had to watch myself and be careful. Not to mention, usually I’m able to read people better. I hate that everything in my system goes haywire when Navin’s involved.

Somehow, Navin and I are able to make it through the first two hours without any interaction. Although I’m sure it’s more as a result of my effort. He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. He appears to be having a great time hanging out with the New Zealand contingent. Every time I let my eyes wander to where he is, which is more than I’d like to admit, he’s laughing with someone.

It’s a bit of a shock when it hits me, the realization that he’s better at this social game than I am. Not that I’m bad. It’s just not my strongest point. I very rarely ever express as much emotion as he