Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,74

Sunshine are talking to someone’s assistant about a painting nearby, Mom pulls me aside.

“Are you okay?” she asks, proving for once and for all that mothers really do see everything.

But I’m not getting ready to jump into that sob story at the moment. Not when we’re minutes from having dinner with the main reason for said story. Mom will be able to see right through me and Anna both, I’m sure, and probably as soon as she sees us, it’ll be clear to her within seconds what my issue is.

I tell her we’ll discuss it after dinner. They’ve all three been given instructions not to tell Anna about my acceptance into Harvard. I made that point very clear before they accepted the invitation. Mom’s a smart lady, though, and it’ll be no problem for her to put the pieces together, but being as smart as she, she won’t breathe a word to anyone.

Nicole walks up and tells me she’s been asked to escort us to dinner. Sunshine takes Dad by the hand and all but floats behind Nicole. I glance at my Mom.

“After,” she confirms and gives my arm a pat.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Him

The White House

Washington DC

Anna’s not in the small room adjoining the dining room when we arrive, and I relax a touch. This will be the first time we’ll have to speak to each other since she rejected me in the Oval Office. Thankfully, this isn’t the same dining room the two of us had breakfast in, all those months ago. This one is more formal, but somehow more intimate as well.

She enters the room alone, though I see the ever present agents take their places outside the door. It would be so easy to hate her: for the job I no longer have, the way she turned me down, and how she’s put this distance between us. If she could pull off the benefit without me, I don’t doubt she’d find a way. But I can’t hate her anymore than I can blame not finishing law school on Sunshine.

“Mr. Hazar.” She nods my way, and though her smile is warm and welcoming, I know her well enough to know the mask is back and thicker than ever. I doubt its presence would be noticed unless you were one of the privileged few who’d seen her without it on. I’d rip the damn thing off if I thought it’d do any good, but in this case I really can’t blame her for having it in place.

“Madame President,” I say, matching her smooth tone. “Allow me to introduce my parents. William and Cece Hazar.”

After those introductions are finished, I turn to get my sister, but Anna’s beat me to it.

“You must be the Sunshine your brother has told me all about,” Anna says holding her hand out. Sunshine takes a tentative hold of it. “I’m so happy to meet you and so happy you and your family were able to come be part of tomorrow night.”

“Thanks,” my sister says. “I like your dress. Where did you get it?”

Anna looks down and smooths it out. It is a nice looking dress, and she had a suit on when I saw her earlier in the day, which means she changed for dinner.

“Thank you,” Anna says. “The gentleman I went to the first four balls with? Captain Phillips?”

Sunshine nods. “He was handsome.”

“He did look good in uniform,” Anna says. “I got it from his sister as a gift. She’s trying to start her own design business.”

“Really?” Sunshine asks. “I thought you only wore stuff from France.”

“A lot of people do. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but if I can help someone who needs it and they make really cool clothes, I’d rather do that.” She leans over and says in a loud whisper, “Most of those French designers don’t need any help.”

I’m in shock. How did I not know this about her? I remember some vague murmurs about the guy who designed her inaugural gown scoring a big contract, but to be honest, I didn’t pay that much attention to the story.

My mom steps forward and hands her the wine. “I forgot to give you this earlier. I’d put it on the side table when we came in.”

Anna takes it gracefully with thanks and asks, “Should we have it opened for dinner?”

“No,” Mom replies. “You save it for a special occasion. I just didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

Anna looks up at me in shock. “You weren’t lying.”

“I never did, Madame President,”