Chapter 58

“Miss Sophia,” I say, immediately interjecting. “I know you are curious, we all are.” I laugh, trying to make light of it. “But we can’t possibly ask Miles to reveal that kind of personal information if he’s not comfortable to do so…”

“It’s alright, Esther,” Miles says calmly, his smile unwavering. “I don’t mind answering Miss Sophia’s question. She’s right, most of our previous presidents have had a partner at their side. Many, I suspect, have been able to do such a good job because of the support of their wives and husbands.”

I give Miles a subtle look, hoping to tell him that I can end this conversation at any time, but Miles just as subtly shakes his head at me and then continues.

“The truth is unfortunate, honestly,” Miles says. “But you have a right to know. Presently I am enraptured with a woman. She is everything I could ever want in a woman, in a partner, and in a wife.”

“That’s sweet,” Sophia says, still on the line. “How could that be unfortunate?”

Miles’s smile slips slightly, revealing a hint of regretful sadness that stabs straight down into my heart like a blade.

Miles holds my gaze prisoner. I’m lost adrift on a blue ocean, as he says, “She doesn’t return my feelings.”

“How tragic!” Sophia gasps. “What a fool of a woman.”

“Thank you, Sophia, but there’s no need to insult her. She is perfect, she simply doesn’t see me the way I wish she would.” Miles drops his gaze down to the floor and I snap back into myself, remembering where I am and what’s going on around me.

“Thank you for your call, Sophia,” I say, and the producers end the call. “While this is an… insightful line of questioning, let us continue with our next caller.”

The next caller, Tim, a thirty-something with a gravelly smoker’s voice, does not hear or does not listen to my hint of moving on, because he asks, “Have you confessed your feelings to her? Maybe she doesn’t know how strongly you feel.”

“She knows,” Miles says. “Though we haven’t talked about it directly, I’m certain she understands the depths of my feelings.”

“I don’t know, man,” Tim says with comradery. “Sometimes are dense about this stuff. My girlfriend and I were friends for six years before she confessed to being in love with me for five of them. I had no clue. She thought I did. It was a disaster.”

“Communication is important,” I throw in, just to be part of the conversation. Really, though, I want this nightmare to end.

I had a good handle on the interview up until this moment, but now I feel it slipping out of my control. It makes me feel inexperienced, though I know it’s more… distraction.

I’m trying to focus, trying to set aside my feelings for Miles so that I can truly conduct this interview like a professional. But hearing him talk about some woman like this…

He’s never mentioned anyone else before. Has he only been pursuing me so intensely, sexually, in some kind of hope to move on from this other, more perfect woman?

The thought hurts more than I want to admit.

Over and over in my head, another question echoes: Who could it be?

After Tim, Rita calls in. And then Virginia. And finally, Pastor Rockwell. All of them are more caught up in Miles’s love life than in the shock of a 25-year-old running for president.

Miles is appreciative, listening critically to the advice given by each one, even the pastor, who belongs to a religion Miles is not a part of. Incredibly respectful, Miles exchanges friendly conversation with each and as each one leaves the call, they thank Miles for being so courteous and wish him well on his campaign.

Rita even says, “You’ve got my vote, kid.”

After Pastor Rockwell, the interview finally, blessedly, ends.

“We thank you for your time tonight, Representative Hamilton,” I say.

“Please, Esther. I insist you call me Miles.” He flashes that charming grin again and my heartrate kicks up, even if it’s also on the verge of breaking.

“Miles,” I reply with a smile of my own. His is infectious, simple as that. Clearing my throat, I look back to the camera. “And thank you to our viewers as well. Stick around for our next programming, as we return to Wilson at the news desk.”

The camera lingered on me only a moment longer before cutting off.

“We’re clear!” called one of the crewmen.

I turn to Miles, about to say something, when Hugo says, “Esther. Over here.”

“Excuse me,” I say to Miles instead.

When he nods, I stand and leave him, going to Hugo’s side. Hugo stands near a set of monitors, each showing the feed from a different camera. Now I see my empty seat and Miles standing up from his, but I imagine during our interview, we both would have been shown clearly.

“You did very well today,” Hugo says. His smile is softer than Miles’s, less pronounced, but it warms me with its genuineness. “None of us had any idea you had such presence on screen. Have you done something like this before?”

“We ran a news station in college,” I tell him. “Though I was always more of a writer than a newscaster.”

Hugo touches his fingers to his chin. He’s clearly thinking but he doesn’t say what about. I’m not bold enough in that moment to try asking him.

“Keep up the good work,” Hugo says instead and excuses himself.

With the boss gone, many of my co-workers approach to congratulate and praise me for my interview.

Near the exit door, Amber stands with her arms crossed. She’s wearing a glare though it doesn’t seem just for me. She’s glowering at anyone who gets too close to her.

To my surprise, even Lila comes up to me.

“You did surprisingly well for an amateur,” Lila says. “But don’t let it go to your head. You’re still only a temp.”

She’s right. My smile wavers and falls, and a pang goes through my chest. Miles stepped in at the last moment to ensure me this interview, but there’s no guarantee I’ll have another, even with this praise. When my three months are up, I’m out. Simple as that.

“There you are,” Miles says, cutting into our conversation. “Esther, I was hoping to speak with you privately before I leave.” He slides a cutting glance at Lila. “Is that alright with you…?”

“Lila, I’m one of the editors here,” Lila says. She sticks out her hand to shake Miles. Miles glances back at my face then to Lila. He doesn’t touch her hand.

“As an editor, am I correct in assuming you have an office here?” Miles asks.

“Y-yes…” Lila’s off-kilter about the rejected handshake. She quickly lowers her hand.

“You wouldn’t mind terribly if Esther and I spoke in there, so that we can be alone. Do you?” Miles asks.

Lila presses her lips hard together as irritation sparks in her eyes. Clearly, she does not like that idea, but she’ll likely never say stand up to someone as prestigious as Miles, especially given how important this interview is for the company.

“Very well,” Lila says, words clipped.

“I can show you the way,” I say to Miles.

Lila glares at me. “Very well,” she says again, no less annoyed.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lila,” Miles says. He makes it sound like a threat when he adds, “I won’t be forgetting your name.”