Midnight by Anna Dove (books for new readers .TXT) 📕

he took the podium. He was a wiry, brilliant, fast-talking person, with sharp features and spiky black hair that refused to be tamed to his head no matter how much gel was used in the process.

“Good afternoon,” said Brando, and without further ado, jumped in. “Later this week the President and First Lady will travel to Brussels for the G20 summit,” he began. “President Gilman’s participation in the G20 summit--although, you know, it’s much more than the G20 when we count it up really, I mean, count up the countries--well, his participation reaffirms his commitment to domestic economic growth, to negotiations with the international trade associations, and to establishing relationships based on the principle of recognized state sovereignty and economic competition under fair, free, and reciprocal trade.” The camera shutters clicked. “While at the G20,” he continued, “the president will interact with many global leaders including the presidents of Russia, Argentina, and China, and the Prime Minister of Japan. This brings me to the next point. We have recently, as you all know, enacted a new deal with China. President Xi and President Gilman will be sitting down at the G20 to discuss this deal. It was a mutually beneficial bilateral partnership and President Gilman is looking forward to meeting with President Xi for the first time following the signing of this deal. Issues of intellectual property theft have been solved. Forced technology transfers have been solved. Tariff and non-tariff barriers have been removed. We are making progress toward a world of true free markets independent from barriers. We are in a strong position now, and President Gilman will be happy to sit down with President Xi following the execution of this deal, which happened this morning. Now, I will take questions. Joanne,” he said, nodding to the CNN correspondent.

“Is the President concerned that China has recently invaded the South China Sea and claimed its oil revenues? And a follow up, if I may, how does this affect China and U.S. relations?”

“President Gilman is working with President Xi to resolve the situation in the South China Sea in a manner that is beneficial to all parties involved. Our relations are good, as evidenced by the fact that President Gilman and President Xi will be meeting at the G20. Next, Dave.”

Dave, from some obscure media outlet, asked the same question in different form, to which Brando repeated his answer.

Carlos leaned against the wall.

“Some praise,” muttered Peter behind him. “We score a massive trade deal with China and they want to know about the South China Sea.”

“It’s a fair question,” said Carlos. “The South China Sea invasion is no light matter. Besides, Peter,” he added, “you know that working for recognition is a lost cause in this business.”

Peter quieted and frowned, as the questions continued to bombard Brando, primarily regarding the invasion.

The press conference ended with many hands still raised, and Carlos and Peter made their way into the plush office adjoining the briefing room. It had two desks, one of which was occupied by a press wrangler, and the other of which was empty.

“Let’s wait here until everyone clears out,” said Peter, as hordes of press people crowded the doorway. Carlos agreed.

At that moment, a woman stepped into the room, and as she did so, everyone fell quiet. She was tall, and slender, and was dressed in a sleek white dress that reached from the gold button at her throat to the slit at her knees. Dark hair, red lips. Deep blue eyes, like uncut brilliant sapphire.

The press stood still, awed momentarily in her presence, and Peter and Carlos were frozen still as well. They had heard about her, the First Lady whose beauty and elegance won the hearts of foreign diplomats, whose multilingual intelligence stunned the global community, whose musical voice melted the souls of millions. Her cheekbones, defined and elegant, her brow, firm yet kind, her eyelashes, sweeping heavily over brilliant blue irises.

“Hello,” she said quietly, and her eyes glanced from face to face as she paused in the office. “I’m just looking for Maurice, the assistant here.” Her eyes rested on Carlos, and stayed for a moment.

“I don’t know, ma’am,” he replied, straightening up. Peter closed the sliding door to the press room, shutting the gaping press out so that it was just the three of them. “No idea,” he rejoined.

“Oh, what a shame,” she said, and sighed almost imperceptibly. “Everyone is so difficult to find around here, constantly rushing around.” Her voice sounded so much like a song.

“You’ll get more used to it ma’am,” said Carlos, before he knew what he was saying. Her eyes flitted back to him.

“And what’s your name?”

“Carlos, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel so terribly old.” There was a brilliant sparkle in her eye.

“Well, then, what would you like to be called?”

“Just call me Adela. Everyone else does,” she said, saying everyone as if she really did, in fact, mean every single person.

“Alright,” said Carlos, extending his hand, and she shook it genteelly, slipping her hand into his. He noticed that her hand was incredibly soft. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Now, where do you all work?” she asked.

“Council of Economic Advisers,” said Peter. “We were sitting in on this briefing to hear about the new China deal, but they didn’t mention it much unfortunately.”

“South China Sea invasion,” nodded the First Lady sadly. “I know, I know. Overtakes all the accomplishments. Well, just know that I appreciate your efforts; I really do. You all are invaluable, and my husband also appreciates your continued work.”

“Thank you,” replied Carlos sincerely.

Maurice, a small blonde woman with dark eyes and a pointy nose, came into the room at that moment, looking flustered.

“Ma’am, you were looking for me? Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, yes,” replied the first lady, and then with a delicate wave and a