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I LEANED BACK IN MY chair and closed my eyes in aggravation as I listened to the ringing phone. My driver and security detail had called me from the car and told me she was refusing to get in. We’d done the same dance every time since this began.I blew out a breath of frustration and ran a hand down my face when I heard the phone get picked up on the other line. “Get in the car,” I demanded, checking the time on my watch. I didn’t like to keep Tony waiting on her. She was pissing me off with this attitude; she knew I needed to be somewhere in an hour.
“No,” her sexy voice drummed through the phone.
I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. “Do you want me to come and get you personally? Is that what this is about—me showing my face?” I snapped, running a hand down my face. I sat up, annoyed.
“This is about you, thinking I’ll come at your demand. It doesn't work like that,” she replied.
I sighed, thinking of the first day we met. I could admit that this wasn’t supposed to go this far. Laila was testing my patience, and she knew what that would mean.
“What do you want?” I questioned.
“I want you to leave me alone and find someone else.”
I chuckled at her comment; she was so determined to push me away. Still, I had news for her—our agreement would never end. I needed her like the air I breathed; I was falling even deeper in love. I couldn't confess to something we’d both mutually agreed would never happen. The situation had started as just sex, and nothing else. Falling in love with a woman who used to be an escort was not something that I could tell my family and colleagues about.
“That'll never happen,” I responded.
“Sebastian, we need to end this,” Laila said.
“Laila, get in the car and meet me now.”
A knock on my office door interrupted us, and my assistant walked inside. I stood and nodded at her.
“They're ready for you, Mr. President," Joanne said, and I held my index finger up, letting her know I'd be there in a second.
“I think they need you more, Mr. President,” Laila said and ended the call.
“Laila... Laila!” I growled and slammed the phone down on the receiver. I buttoned my jacket and moved around to the front of the desk. I stared at the presidential seal with my hands in my pockets.
A meeting with my senior staff about the upcoming agenda was supposed to happen tomorrow morning. But a last-minute change in the legislation’s wording had hindered the plans I’d made for tonight. The meeting would carry on for hours and hours if I didn’t speak up fast enough.
“Mr. President.” Claudette, the Chief of Staff, strolled inside with the Deputy Chief of Staff, Charles, and the Communications Director, Will.
“Claudette, Charles, have a seat. Will, I thought you went home sick?” I questioned, taking the binder off my desk.
“I’m fine, sir.” Will waved me off and sat next to Claudette.
I tapped his shoulder, then strolled back to my desk and leaned against it with my ankles crossed. I flipped through the dates and schedules for upcoming events.
“Mr. President, we wanted to meet with you about the latest housing proposal,” Charles brought up.
I’d run for president two years ago, and we’d made strides in certain areas of the country: proposing higher tax cuts, implementing campaign financing, and drawing up education plans to hire more teachers. No one thought I could win; as a freshman senator from California, I had spoken about things that would be revolutionary.
As a single Thirty-eight year-old man with no kids, the media tried to bring up any and all of my past relationships. If they only knew about my current situation with Laila Daniels, they would destroy us in the papers.
“What’s changed?” I asked.
My phone rang. I held my hand up to stop him from continuing and answered the call on the office line.
“Sir, I have Tony on Line 2 for you,” Joanne said.
“Put him through,” I stated and waited for the call to come in from the car.
“Mr. President, I have your package,” Tony told me.
I smiled. She needed me as much as I needed her. “Secure the package, Tony; I’ll be there soon,” I replied, ended the call, and glanced at the staff.
“Should we reschedule, Mr. President?” Claudette asked, knowing that I was going to cancel to meet up with Laila. Some people might question why Claudette would keep a secret like this, but she had been a longtime friend. At first, it didn’t go over well with her, but over time, she’d come to respect my decisions and secrets. However, once in a blue moon, we’d clash.
She was married to my other best friend, Ray Garret, a fellow congressman in the Senate. He was the reason I’d met Laila a year ago.
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