Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,59
is ready and waiting for me so we can tape the third. I’m late to arrive. I hate it, but there are more important things on my plate than this.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone.” I really don’t even have to apologize, but I’d feel rude if I didn’t. However, that’s as far as I go. I don’t explain anything or tell anyone why I’m late. They know the truth as well as I do. Navin is already sitting down in place and that’s where I head.
He grins as I take my seat. “You look lovely today, Madame President.”
I raise an eyebrow and wonder what he’s up to. “Thank you, Mr. Hazar, but you have already seen me once today.” First thing this morning, to be exact, at my standing Wednesday press briefing. He’d asked me a pointed question about my plan to revise our healthcare system.
“Yes, but I didn’t have the opportunity to compliment you on your appearance.”
“That’s quite all right. I’d much rather have someone’s attention for my brain than the way I look.” I’m hoping that’ll be enough small talk, and we can get started, but so far I don’t see anyone moving in that direction.
“Spoken exactly like an intelligent woman who has no idea how gorgeous she really is.”
“I know what this is now,” I say. “What is it you want to ask me?”
He exaggerates a shocked face. “Why do you think I want to ask you something?”
“Because everyone is standing around, waiting for you to finish talking and if it wasn’t anything important, they’d tell you to shut it.”
The few people within hearing distance chuckle.
“Not only are you beautiful and intelligent, you have keen powers of observation as well.”
“You’re stalling and I’m pressed for time as it is.” I want to tell him that if he’s struggling that much to ask the question, the answer is no, but there’s always a small chance I might not hate what he’s getting ready to ask.
“The network would like for the last interview to be filmed live.”
It’s not what I’m expecting him to ask and I don’t know why he thought it was such a big deal. I’ve done a lot of live events. Debates being the first to come to mind. How different can an interview be? “I don’t have an immediate reason to say no. Why don’t we plan for it and if something comes up before then we can schedule like we’d planned?”
His shoulders slump in relief. Damn, he really thought I’d turn the idea down. Interesting. “Thank you, Madame President,” he says with a glance over to the production crew and everyone hops up and gets to work. With a light-hearted look back at me, he asks, “Are you ready?”
“As much as I could be prepared to be drilled by you.” I don’t realize what I said until he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Not that you’re going to do that or anything.”
“Damn it, Anna.” His nostrils flare, but he speaks under his breath. “Fuck,” he says in a whisper of a voice. I can’t see his crotch from where I’m sitting, but he shifts in his seat, adjusting himself. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
The GBNC employees getting in place and positioning their equipment are oblivious to Navin’s problem. “Ready boss?” one of them asks.
Navin gives the guy a thumb’s up while glaring at me.
“I didn’t mean…” I start, but it’s too late, and my voice trails off as his transforms into television Navin.
“Hello, everyone,” he says, in the voice that has gotten him into living rooms across the nation. It manages to be sexy, smooth, and confident at the same time. It also sends shivers down my spine. “Thank you for spending time with us at GBNC. I’m Navin Hazar, and with me is President Anna Fitzpatrick for the third of our planned four interviews.”
My heart’s pounding for some reason. I’m not sure why, it didn’t do this the other times we interviewed.
“And thank you, Madame President,” he says to me. “For taking time out of what I know is a busy schedule to meet with me. I know it’s hard for you.”
I tilt my head, his expression doesn’t change, and a quick look to the crew shows they didn’t hear anything out of sorts. The emphasis on the last three words must have only occurred in my mind.
“I promise it was no hardship,” I say.
“Last time we talked about your childhood and growing up in middle America,” he says, and I nod in agreement.