Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,30
I’d throw him out of the plane and he could fly home alone.
I can’t decide if I want to ask Navin to my office, or if I should wait until we’re home. I’d heard rumors some press members gave him a hard time after our flight out here. I doubt I’ll earn any brownie points by putting him through it twice. I decide to have a private conversation with him once we’re back in the White House.
There’s a knock on my office door. “Come in.”
“Sorry, Madame President,” Nicole says. “Director Wiggins is on line two for you, and you have a meeting with the Grocer’s Association in thirty minutes.”
“Thank you, Nicole,” I say going around to sit at my desk. When the door closes behind her, I reach for the phone. “Director Wiggins.”
He’s called to update me on the press leak issue, and to find out if I’ve discovered anything. I give him my update first because the short answer is no. I’ve neither seen nor heard anything suspicious.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says. He goes on to discuss what they’ve put into place to further monitor all incoming and outgoing communications. I learn that there was a minor threat the US special forces with the aid of their UK counterparts were able to thwart, and we speak about that for a few minutes.
Once off the phone, I call David in so we can prepare for the upcoming meeting. There’s no way I’m going back to pacing alone in my office. I’ll stop outside and see who’s out and about and eventually make my way down to the press section. I didn’t stop by there on the way to London, but hopefully I’ve been able to convince a few of them I’m not the devil incarnate or his mistress. If nothing else, they’ll all feel more at ease around me. With one glaring exception.
It’s two hours later before I make it down to the press. Thankfully, they look happy to see me. There’s an empty place in the front row, so I take a seat, and we talk. Because there’s no agenda for the day, other than getting home, the questions they have for me aren’t political in nature, but more personal. Though I don’t make a big show about it, I see from the corner of my eye that Navin is paying attention to every word I’ve said. I don’t let him know that I know, but at least he’s confirmed he’s not totally immune to me.
Not that I care. I don’t. Why would I care when I don’t even like him?
He’s a member of the press and naturally I want him to not hate me. Isn’t that a common human desire? Besides, if he likes me, he’s more likely to say nice things about me in the news. I’m doing PR, I tell myself. A necessary part of the job. But even I’m not sure I’m able to believe a truth stretched that far.
I also notice one of the women looks very interested in Navin. She’s not overly staring, but it’s damn close.
She raises her hand, and I shoot her a fake smile. “Yes?” I ask. I can tell by her smirk I’m going to hate her question and that she is the very definition of a mean girl.
“It’s a two part question, Madame President,” she clarifies, and I want to roll my eyes and say of course it is, but I nod instead. “I understand that you and Navin went to law school together. While there, when did you first notice Navin, and what do you remember the most about him?” She ends her question with a self-satisfied snarky grin.
I’m not sure where she thinks she’s going with those two questions or what she’s expecting for answers. On the surface, they appear to be very benign, but looks can be deceiving.
From the corner of my eye, I see Navin isn’t even pretending to read anymore, he’s watching our interaction. “I noticed him the first day,” I say. “Seriously, you have seen him, haven’t you? I’d have to be blind in both eyes as well as missing most of my brain to not notice that.” I end the sentence by jerking my thumb in his direction, and everyone laughs, as was my intent. “But, what I really took notice of was his mind, because a pretty face will only get you so far. Mr. Hazar, however, was blessed with both.”
Everyone remains quiet as I think over my