Mr. President | jb

four.

"Oh. Look at what we have here," Sahara says in her most sarcastic and witty tone. "Care to tell me where you were before you stood me up before lunch?"

Oh, crap. I forgot about lunch with her. Should I tell her where I was? I don't know how she's going to react. I usually never leave anything out but she has to understand that this new position is going to change things. "I was with Justin-I mean Mr. Bieber,"

"Oh, look, first name basis. What's next?"

"What the hell is your problem, Sahara?" I questioned. Is she really that upset that I went to have lunch with the president? "It's my job to become his assistant and you're upset about it. Are you upset that I got the job and you didn't? Is that what you're upset about?"

"You stood me up! I thought your new position wasn't going to change anything!"

"You're only upset about it because I got the opportunity and you didn't."

She said nothing. All she did was have a seat in her office chair.

Sahara did nothing but stare around the room.

"Sahara, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I forgot, okay? I mean, it's the PRESIDENT. No one has this opportunity really, ever. You know that I value your friendship." I finally let out, realizing that we're only arguing for no reason. It was a stupid argument anyways. I can't forget how she's always been here for me.

"I forgive you. But just don't do it again."

"I promise." It feels like lately, I've been promising a lot of promises that I might end up breaking.

"Tell me about the lunch?"

"Well...," I'm not sure what to tell her. I don't want to tell her about his tattoos because they're secluded for a reason and I most definitely don't want to tell her about "the kiss". She might misjudge me or overreact about it. "we really just talked about our lives and stuff. Just getting to know each other,"

"Oh," she responds, but it seems like she almost didn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me, either.

All of these secrets will eventually catch up with me.

*

I went back into my office, trying to finally get some work done. I plopped down into the leather office chair and logged on to the computer. Justin emailed me.

I'm sorry for doing that. But you can't deny that you didn't want it. I need you for this job, Lana. Come back. I won't pull anything anymore. I also heard about your argument with Sahara. It's a shame how jealous she is. You don't deserve this.

How did he find out about the argument? And most importantly, what should I say back?

As long as nothing like that happens again. I'm not trying to become the next Monica Lewinsky.

Deal. I also need the schedule for next week. And I also have a list of things for you to do.

Justin sent me a considerable amount of things to do. I have to proofread his speech, make sure that his office is cleaned, find a dress for the upcoming Presidential Ball, and a small list of other things.

Find a dress?

I composed another e-mail.

And why do I have to attend this "ball"? What is it?

Immediately, he responded.

It's a welcoming ball for the newly appointed senators, congress people and for the president. I only just got here last year you know. We throw these things every year I hear. Dress up nice. Dress to impress. In politics, it's the "place to  be".

And if I don't? What if I show up in sweats and a tee?

I wouldn't mind, but the other "important" people will. The theme colors are black and gold and this year it is a masquerade ball. I hope to see you there.

Will you bring your wife?

Of course. Any reason I wouldn't?

I'm not sure...but...did you tell her about the...you know?

Some things some people don't have to know. Don't think about it too much, you'll cloud your brain and focus on less important things. It wasn't a big deal, right? You said you didn't want for it to happen, correct?

Yes.

But for some reason, the kiss was still lingering on my mind like the taste of his lips were still lingering on mine.