Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,46

to snag. I don’t recall experiencing insomnia when I practiced law. It wasn’t until I joined Congress and felt responsible for the people I served that I started sleeping less.

Now, with that responsibility expanded exponentially, it’s not as if I thought it’d get better. Fortunately, I have a few tricks that usually seem to help. Granted, most of them I discovered after learning the hard way which things didn’t help.

For example, alcohol. Once upon a time, I would have a glass of wine at night to relax and take the edge off a hard day. I ended up feeling more relaxed, but also wide awake. Since that defeated the purpose of why I had a glass in the first place, I looked for something else and what I found was hot tea. Now drinking hot tea relaxes me more than wine ever could have.

While my tea brews, I slip off my heels, and take off my thigh high sheer hose. Digging my toes into the soft rug I selected is one of life’s little pleasures. Once I’m out of my suit and into something more comfortable, I become Anna. Although tonight, I can’t help but laugh when it occurs to me how the comfortable clothes I only allow myself to wear in the Residence look better than what I wore to class in law school.

Another thing being President has changed is I used to sleep naked, and once I moved into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, I had to change that. Though it’s probably only my overactive imagination, I have nightmares of some huge crisis hitting the United States during the four or five hours I sleep, someone bursting into my bedroom to wake me up and finding me naked. They would probably forget what they came to tell me, and the world would end simply because I was naked.

My reasonable side knows better. I find it hard to believe whoever needed me wouldn’t knock first, and I’m not a light sleeper, so it’s probably ninety nine point nine percent unlikely to happen. But it’s the little zero point zero one percent chance that changes my sleep attire. I can’t take the risk of being responsible for the end of the world, after all.

Of course, when I said as much to Jaya, she rolled her eyes and called me a prude. “Some of those Secret Security agents are pretty hot. I wouldn’t turn a few of them away if they happened upon me naked.”

I shake my head now at the thought of her remark. I know she means well, but in her mind, everything is better with sex, and it can cure anything. What can I say? I don’t subscribe to that way of thinking. Unless, we’re talking about sex with Navin, because then, all bets are off. My body grows warm at the very thought. A memory of his touch, the way his fingers ignited the spark of heat between us, ignored for far too long, makes me pulse with need.

I have to get my mind on something else.

I sit on my couch with the warm mug cradled between my hands, and my gaze falls on the employment files I still haven’t looked over. I probably need to look at what I wanted so I can give them back to David. Not only that, but reading through them might help me fall asleep. Another tip about insomnia I learned the hard way is not to read anything sounding remotely interesting, or else you risk realizing it’s three-thirty in the morning and you aren’t ready to put the book down.

Employee records, on the other hand, should be boring enough to knock me right out.

I spy my neglected e-reader on the end table where it’s been since my first night here. Reading for pleasure simply doesn’t happen anymore. With a sigh, I reach for the employee records. There was one I was particularly interested in, the one with an unfamiliar name. I look through them all, but I’m not able to find it. The only plausible reason being that it was the file David wanted to look at and he decided to take it with him. It makes more sense the longer I think. Maybe that’s why the name wasn’t familiar. Obviously, the person isn’t on my Press Pool. More than likely, their file had been inadvertently placed with the press. Or maybe he or she is a candidate for the next round.

My fingers brush across the file bearing Navin’s name. I’d been