Madame President Read online

  Madame President

  Tara Sue Me

  Copyright © 2020 by Tara Sue Me

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN ebook 9781950017218

  ISBE print 9781950017225

  Cover Imagine iStock

  Contents

  About

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Tara Sue Me

  “The sizzling chemistry, the power plays, the secrets and the unbreakable and demanding moral codes, make for a beautifully-written, passionate read.”

  -Elizabeth SaFleur, award winning author

  This is Washington DC and there’s only one she here.

  For Independent Anna Fitzpatrick, being President of the United States means she’s finally in a place to make a difference. Known for her intellect and charm, she never appears anything other than calm. After getting dumped by the man she’d been living with once he learned of her presidential bid, Anna vows to remain single throughout her term. It's an easy task, after all, no man has ever made her feel the way her law school classmate did years ago. Or at least the way he made her feel until he walked away without so much as a goodbye.

  Navin Hazar is content being one of the nation’s top news anchors. It may not be the plan he had for his life, but plans don’t always go as anticipated. Like his plan for no one to find out he knows Anna personally or did know her, once upon a time.

  For over ten years, they’ve been able to ignore each other, but her election to the highest office changes everything. And when Navin inadvertently lands on Anna’s Press Pool, they realize the only thing more aggravating than politics is love.

  Playlist

  Goyte SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW

  Martina McBride ANYWAY

  Christina Perri JAR OF HEARTS

  KT Tunstall SUDDENLY I SEE

  Pat Green WAVE ON WAVE

  Alanis Morissette HEAD OVER FEET

  Bob Seger WE’VE GOT TONIGHT

  “She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible. She walked with the Universe on her shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings.”

  -Ariana Dancu

  Chapter One

  Him

  Election Night

  GBNC Newsroom

  New York City, New York

  On any other election night, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass who won the presidency. As a news anchor, presidential election nights always feel like a combination of the Super Bowl and the Oscars, mixed with a healthy serving of a reality television competition. I’ve seen too many elections, interviewed too many candidates, and witnessed enough meltdowns and breakups to last a dozen lifetimes. The truth is, when it’s all said and done, nothing really changes.

  Those running for office will never admit as much, though, at least not anywhere they might be overheard. Oh no, because they want you to believe they’re going to fight for you. But let’s not kid ourselves, we all know what the candidates are really fighting for - more money to line their pockets.

  One might expect my pessimism is a result of years spent searching for the next big story and the determination needed to bring it to the public’s attention, only to be asked, “What's next?” But I know better. My outlook comes from realizing that even though I’ve spent over ten years working my way up the news broadcasting ladder, from a print journalist to one of the country’s most recognized news anchors, it’s not enough. There is no contentment to be found anywhere. When you place everything on one thing, be that a politician, your job, anything, the only certainty is the crushing disappointment sure to follow. Because everything looks better in your mind than it will in your reality.

  “Navin,” Gabe Day, my good friend and co-anchor at Global Broadcast News Corporation, calls from the desk we’ll be sharing for the night. “What the hell? How long does it take to get coffee?”

  I make my way toward the spot we’ll be broadcasting from for the next few hours, noting in one of the room’s many monitors that a junior anchor is currently on air talking to one of our reporters on-site in Florida. Their polls closed almost an hour and a half ago, and we’re still waiting for results to come in.

  I place Gabe’s mug in front of him. “Some asshole didn’t make a new pot after drinking all of the old one.”

  He mutters something under his breath while taking a sip, but I can’t make out what. I take my seat beside him, ready, at least in appearance, for the night to come. I can’t stop from taking a long look at the image of the presidential candidates we have up alongside the number of electoral votes each has secured.

  "I think she’s going to pull it off,” Gabe says.

  I don't have to ask who he’s talking about or what she’s going to pull off. I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible with my reply. “More than likely.”

  “If you’d told me eighteen months ago we’d be here tonight discussing a three person presidential race, I’d have laughed my ass off.”

  Everyone would have. Eighteen months ago, I remember stating our options for President were so bad I was going to write in my pizza delivery boy because he could at least make change, a math skill I wasn’t sure either party’s frontrunner had mastered.

  Our choices at the time were dreadful. The Republican candidate was the current Vice President, a man so old, the joke was he served under Washington. Not that the Democrats did any better. Their choice was a former Grammy winning singer and songwriter who promised all the right things, but had no idea how to pay for any of them. Either way, we were screwed.

  But then, in steps Anna Elizabeth Fitzpatrick. A candidate for everyone, and a candidate everyone can stand behind. She’s independent and answers to no one except those who elect her. Or at least that’s what her campaign wants you to believe.

  During her speech declaring her bid for the presidency, she spoke of the reasons why she decided to run. “It’s time to end labels. To end us versus them. It’s time to put a stop to the old way. It’s time to get serious and to say we’ve had enough parties. It’s time to get to work.”

  From then on, It’s Time was the battlecry of the Fitzpatrick campaign.

  While I admire her determination and want to believe that she can do it, I don’t see how she’s going to make real change when people with more experience have tried the same and failed.

  The rest of the country is caught up in how either party could have overlooked the
absolute perfection that is Anna Fitzpatrick and her rise from obscurity to the frontrunner for the highest office in the nation. Not me. I sit back and wonder why, out of all the people in the world, she had to be the one who decided to do something to save it?

  Because Anna Fitzpatrick is the one thing I know of that is better in reality than fantasy. Unfortunately, my actions years ago killed any chance of my reality including her.

  Chapter Two

  Her

  Election Night

  Franklin Institute

  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  The first time someone interviews me, they always compliment me on my calmness. I’m always genuine in my thanks, as I consider this to be a positive trait of mine. In fact, I believe never letting your guard down, never letting anyone see you sweat, and never letting anyone see the real you— is a necessity for public service. No matter which mask I wear, and I always wear one, the masked me is always calm. The Student Anna. The Congresswoman Anna. That Crazy Woman Who Thinks She Can Be President Anna. And, hopefully in the next few minutes, the newly minted President Elect Anna.

  My campaign staff and I are watching returns in a small private office of the Franklin Institute in my home state of Pennsylvania. Below us, five hundred of my supporters and more staff wait in the ballroom for me to make an appearance.

  There should be enough data to support calling California, which would put me over the line for needed electoral numbers. Yet GBNC has held off for some reason. I’m about to call and ask what the hold up is when the television goes completely red, white, and blue while “Breaking News” flashes across the screen. My main advisor and dear family friend, David Herdsman, comes to stand at my side.

  “This is it,” he whispers.

  The room goes silent as Navin Hazar’s face comes on the screen and my stomach clenches the way it always does when I see him. He pauses and gives a little smile. It’s the smile of someone who knows they have the information everyone else is holding their breath to hear, and for a second he relishes that fact.

  “GBNC is officially calling California for Anna Fitzpatrick,” he says, and a low buzz of excitement builds in the air. I remain still, wanting to hear what’s next. “Which means, we are also projecting Independent, Anna Fitzpatrick, will become the next President of the United States, making her the first female to hold that position.”

  The room around me explodes as Navin Hazar and his co-host, Gabe Day, move to fill the top half of the television screen as the bottom flashes to the scene downstairs. I don’t catch anything else as I’m swept into the hugs and tears of the people who have fought so valiantly and tirelessly for me over the last few years. A champagne glass is pushed into my hand.

  I reach inside the jacket of the business suit I’m wearing and my fingers brush my speech. I don’t need the paper since I’ve practiced the thing in my head at least three hundred thousand times, and it’ll be on the teleprompter, but it’s comforting to touch.

  “I love that color on you,” my best friend, Jaya, says, coming up and giving me a hug.

  “Thanks.” I have on a fuchsia skirt suit tonight because I didn’t want to wear either red or blue. A bold choice, but if you have the potential to be the first female President of the United States, bold is the only way to go.

  “Are you going downstairs?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “I’ll go down in a few minutes,” I tell her as David approaches us. He knows what I’m waiting for. Tom Merriweather, the Democratic nominee, called and conceded ninety minutes ago, but Vice President Roberts has been holding out. I’d like to wait for his call, but I’m not going to give him long.

  Jaya catches sight of David and rolls her eyes. “If you’re waiting for Roberts, you’ll have to wait until morning. At his age, I’m sure he’s asleep by now.”

  But David’s big smile tells a different story. “President Elect Fitzpatrick,” he says to the thrill of the surrounding crowd. “I have Vice President Roberts on the phone for you.”

  * * *

  Hours later, I’m sitting at an empty table in the ballroom with David and his husband, Oliver, on one side of me, and my best friend, Jaya, on the other. All four of us know we should head back to the hotel and at least pretend to sleep. The real work, as they say, is getting ready to begin. But we also know sleep won’t come tonight. Not after this massive celebration of all we’ve been able to accomplish.

  I’m not sure when I’ll sleep again. It’s almost overwhelming to think I’ve made it this far, and yet I know I have even more miles ahead of me. My win was not a landslide. There are a good number of Americans who did not want me as their President, and they will be vocal about it. That’s a large part of why this country is so important to me. Why it’s so important we safeguard our freedoms and not take for granted this beautiful, wonderful, twisted, ridiculous democracy we have.

  The untapped potential of American citizens is mind blowing. If you take the diversity we have and mix that with our creativeness and intellect, we should be unstoppable. Unfortunately, there are so many manmade barriers that are in our way and have kept us stagnant—party affiliation, racism, socio-economic disparities, to name just a few. My hope is to create the building blocks for an infrastructure aimed on removing those things we’ve allowed to define us for too long. I know change cannot happen in a day, or even in four years. But leading the country in the right direction is my primary goal. There is a serious problem and it’s time change starts.

  My excitement for starting the work is part of why I don’t feel the least bit tired. The other part is because I’m doing my best to shut Jaya down. She’s having too much fun nagging me about how I need a date for the Inaugural Balls.

  “I don’t know why,” I respond to her. “I can go with David.” I look to the man at my side for confirmation. He’s my rock, my right-hand man, but at the moment he’s shaking his head. “Why are you saying no?” I ask.

  “My dance card is full already,” he says taking Oliver’s hand. “Sorry.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask.

  “I’m not.” David replies. “You won’t have any problems finding someone. And before you try to say differently, yes, you need a date. I don’t care if it’s your cousin or one of those guys Jaya always tries to set you up with, but you need to send a message. Yes, you’re woman and you own it. No, you don’t need a man, but there’s nothing wrong with having one by your side on occasion. And besides, you can’t dance by yourself.”

  I’m mulling over his words and attempting to drown out Jaya and David discussing possible dates for me when Oliver turns on a nearby television. I glance at it, expecting to see a replay of my victory speech, but right away I see this is something different.

  Navin Hazar and Gabe Day are on the screen discussing something, more than likely me. Oliver raises an eyebrow as if to ask if I want him turn it up. I shake my head and take a few minutes to study Navin unnoticed.

  He looks good. Better than good, actually, because frankly he’s always looked above average. They say some things get better over time, and that’s certainly the case with him. I remember when we first met, when I was in my early twenties, how he could captivate a person with his deep dark eyes. That obviously hasn’t changed much in the last twelve years or so.

  I’d like to tell Oliver to turn the thing off, but then he’d know it bothered me, as would David and Jaya. Instead, I let it play on, but I can’t stop watching him.

  “Is it Gabe Day or Navin Hazar who has your attention?” Oliver says from beside me and I’m shocked he’s not part of David and Jaya’s conversation, but rather studying me.

  “Navin Hazar,” I try to say offhandedly. “He reminds me of someone.”

  I’m not as close to Oliver as I am to David, mostly because I haven’t known him as long. He came into David’s life four years ago, and the two of them have been married for two years. He helped with my campaign whenever his job as a management consultant in for international finance com
panies allowed. Regardless, I didn’t think he would be able to notice anything different on me. But then again, I can’t imagine I’m that transparent.

  But then again, tonight has been a lot.

  It’s surreal. I’m the President Elect.

  Oliver nods. “What kind of last name is Hazar?”

  “Turkish,” I say without thinking and Oliver can’t seem to suppress his grin. “I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.”

  Chapter Three

  Him

  GBNC Offices

  New York City, New York

  Two days after the election, I still have a hard time wrapping my brain around the results. The fact we have a female president is not the cause of my unease. Frankly, I’m thrilled a woman will finally be our Commander in Chief. It’s about damn time. It’s the fact that I know her. Granted, it’s been twelve years since we spoke, but that doesn’t lessen the impact of the knowledge.

  I haven’t told anyone at work I knew Anna once upon a time. When I first started at GBNC five years ago, Anna was in Congress and at the time I didn’t think it was important. Those people who always make a big deal about who they know annoy the hell of me, and I refuse to become one of them. Besides, I never felt as if my personal life was anyone’s business expect for my own, much less my personal life of years past.