Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,27

does in a simple conversation with someone he just met.

In an effort to give myself a mental break, I walk around a bit. A collection of rooms have been reserved for our group on the upper floor of the hotel we’re all staying at, and my detail has already done a security sweep. A long walk outside would be the best thing for me, but there’s no way I can make that happen. I alert the head of my detail to my plans and after a few minutes of walking I do feel better. One of the rooms is empty, but toward the back are what looks like antiques. Another security sweep and I’m free to enter.

The room is a little dimmer than the others. I walk in, leaving the lights the way they are, and make my way to the first antique and look it over. I’ve always been fascinated by history and England has so much more of it recorded than the States.

“Madame President,” one of the agents call, and I lift my head.

Navin is standing next to an agent who won’t let him enter unless I give my consent I turn back to the antique. “Let him in.”

I hear his footsteps.

“Madame President,” he says. “You’re a difficult person to find alone.”

I don’t turn around. “There’s a reason for that, Mr. Hazar. And I’m not alone. As you just discovered.”

“When I said alone, I was speaking in relative terms.”

With that one sentence he reminds me exactly why I decided to take a walk. “Is that how you convince yourself it’s okay?” I ask. A movement from the corner of the room tells me one of the agents has slipped inside the room. “By saying it’s all relative?”

He walks to stand by my side. “That I convince myself what is okay?”

“Lying, telling half truths, stretching it a little.”

The smile he gave everyone else tonight, he does not give me. What I see is the exact opposite. There’s a hint of ire in his expression. “You still think I have a hidden agenda for being on your Press Pool?”

“I don’t think it. I know it. You think you’re so smart, that you’ve managed to pull the wool over the President’s eyes? Guess what, Mr. Hazar? You haven’t. Take that as a lesson, because when you get rid of everything else, I’m the one who graduated and passed the bar, you’re just a law school dropout.”Listening to my own words, I know I’m going to go too far, and I need to walk away before I do, but I find I can’t.

Much to my shock it isn’t ire that overtakes his face, it’s grief. It disappears as fast as it appeared, and very softly, so softly I almost miss it, he whispers, “Fuck you, Madame President.”

Chapter Fourteen

Him

Hotel

London, England

Though I enjoy my job, and despite the fact I’m paid well to do it, it was never my desire to sit behind a desk and discuss the news. My dream was to sit behind a bench and make the news as a judge. I studied and worked hard to make my dream a reality. As a result, I graduated valedictorian from high school, and summa cum laude from Colombia four years after that with a degree in journalism. By the time I stepped onto campus at Harvard Law, I was unstoppable.

One phone call proved how wrong I was. A few months into my second year that was all it took to bring me to my knees. And yet, I didn’t have anything to think about. There was no choice to be made, no decision to weigh the pros and cons of; only one phone call and the whispered words, “We need you,” and I walked away from my dream and never looked back.

I have no regrets about giving up that dream for what became my reality. I didn’t return to law school as was my plan, but instead found a job at the local news station and gradually made my way to where I am today.

If given the chance to do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing. Or at least that’s what I’ve always told myself. Looking back now, I see how wretched it was for me to leave without telling Anna why. At the time, I thought I’d be back within a week, and in my haste to get home as quickly as possible, I neglected to let anyone know I’d left. By the time it became clear I wouldn’t