Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,29
converted.
How she’s able to keep everyone’s name straight is beyond me. I thought I had a good memory, but she remembered the photo journalist traveling with us from early in her campaign, and that his wife had been pregnant. I’d never had the ability to recall such details. Typically, if I interview a person I believe I might have an occasion to interview again, I’ll make a note of something like that in my phone. The journalist’s face when she asked if the baby had been a boy or girl proved how much it meant to him she remembered.
But she hasn’t said one word to me. Of course, I haven’t said one to her, either. Don’t think the others haven’t noticed. They have. They’re just not willing to take the risk and ask me, which means my expression probably shows exactly how I’m feeling.
It’s our last night in London and Anna is having a private dinner with the Prime Minister of the UK. That being the case, the press stay behind. I can’t help but wonder if Anna is relieved not to have her press shadows following her every move or if it was possible to grow accustomed to never really being alone?
I’m walking through the floor where the reception was held and, remembering something I’d read, I step inside the room where everything went so wrong between me and Anna. I did send a text to Sara later that night, and as expected, she replied with a sad face and a hope you feel better soon text.
The room is darker tonight than it was then. I suppose because no one has it reserved. Too bad for me that means they leave it dark. I enjoy history and this particular room, based on what I read, and what I saw a glimpse of the other night with Anna, holds a few impressive antiques I’d hoped to get a better look at. Not ready to admit defeat, and not wanting to head to bed yet, I move deeper inside. There’s a full moon, and maybe if it’s not too overcast, the moon will provide enough light for me to see something.
I walk toward the wooden piece Anna stood looking at only a few nights ago. It’s a large cabinet you can’t see from the door of the room and it’s the main piece I want a chance to look at. Unfortunately, London is being London, and it’s cloudy outside. Not even a hint of light to aid in my quest. I don’t want to use the light on my phone because it’d look suspicious to anyone walking by.
A movement from the street below catches my attention. Anna, returning from dinner in her motorcade. I watch as her car door is opened and she is hurriedly tucked inside by her security detail. I wonder if she will always be this way for me. Close enough to for me to watch, but always out of reach.
Chapter Fifteen
Her
Air Force One
It’s never been my practice to dwell on things I’ve done, no matter if the outcome was positive or negative. I’ve always thought thinking too much on the positives will make you lazy while only focusing on the negatives will make you bitter. The best thing to do is to learn from the past and apply what works and not to repeat what does not.
Yet, I find myself unable to move past my last conversation with Navin. I’m still mad as hell because I’m certain there’s more to him being here than what either he admits. He could be the one working with the mole in my administration. But even in my anger my words were not only inappropriate and uncalled for, but they’d hurt him deeply, and I hate that. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll fight with my last breath to keep our nation safe, and don’t have a problem hurting those who would go up against me.
What I did to Navin was different. It was personal, and personal has no business being anywhere near me. Not while I’m the President. I don’t have the luxury of being personal. I was elected by the people to be their President, and that needs to be my focus.
I’m in my office on Air Force One, returning to DC from London, and I’m restless. My pacing has already chased David out the door. Okay, so it wasn’t technically my pacing, it was me telling him that if he asked me if I was okay one more time,