Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,72

interrupt. I believe him, not just because what little information he has matches what Director Wiggins has been telling me, but because I have him in a position where he has no other choice but to be honest.

After hearing about the animosity between him and Edward, I wish I hadn’t called the man. But even if I’d called George, it wouldn’t change the outcome. Nor did it matter what Navin’s intentions were when he entered the White House. The truth is I can’t have him here any more.

He finally finishes and slumps in the chair where he’s been sitting, like he just completed a marathon. I feel his exhaustion.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “I’m going to pass on to Wiggins what you’ve told me pertaining to the leak, but other than that, everything else I’ll consider confidential.”

“Can I help you?” he asks. “While I’m still here, that is.”

“I’m not sure where we need to go from here.” Until they’re out of my mouth, I don’t notice how my words could be applied to both our work situation and our personal whatever-the-hell-we-are situation.

“Maybe that’s where we need to start.”

I stand and walk to the window facing the Rose Garden. It’s too hard to sit next to him. Too hard when my body recalls his with such vivid images. My ache for him is both figurative and literal. I want him. I no longer think he had anything to do with the pictures; I’m not sure I ever thought he did.

I don’t notice he’s behind me until he places a hand on my shoulder, and whispers, “Do you know why I finally told you everything?”

“Because I had you between a rock and a hard place and you had no other choice?”

“No,” he is adamant in his denial. “There is always a choice. Always. I told you because I want to be honest with you, with nothing between us but the truth. So that you would believe me when I tell you that I don’t want this past weekend to be all there is for us. I want us. For real and in public.”

He’s handed me exactly what I want, what I’ve secretly longed for. I can’t accept it. Tears once more prickle my eyes. This time, I blink and one slides down my cheek.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Him

Washington DC

The part that sucks the most about being on the Presidential Press Pool, is that there is no way to avoid being around the President. While this isn’t a hardship for most, they also didn’t get their hearts handed back to them in the Oval Office on a silver platter once used by Abigail Adams when her husband was in office.

Anna and I work hard to appear like we’re nothing but the professionals everyone assumes we are. I’m not sure we’re fooling anyone and for once my press peers aren’t bugging the shit out of me for answers. The only thing they know is that I will be leaving after the benefit.

Director Standard has been unable to discover who took the pictures or how they came to be in David’s office to begin with. My suspicion is on David himself, but I don’t tell anyone about my thoughts on the matter because the last thing I want to do is implicate an innocent man. I have no proof, I just don’t like him, and my thoughts are of no consequence.

The meeting with Anna in the Oval Office, painful as it was, forced me to reevaluate my life. Where I am versus where I want to be. As a result, I’ve made some big decisions. Funny how I would have never taken such a hard look at myself if it hadn’t been for her. As soon as I decided what I was going to do and started working toward making it happen, she was the first person I wanted to tell and share my plan with. But I didn’t, and, as far as I’m aware, she still doesn’t know.

I’m not returning to New York City after the benefit. Nor will I be staying in Washington DC as part of the media. Once I left the Oval Office that day, I submitted my resignation, effective the day before the benefit. The executives are still pissed, they never got the fourth interview, but I don’t care. I told them Gabe would be glad to do it. I’ll be too busy.

I’m going back to Harvard Law as a second-year student.

It was my decision to repeat the first six months

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